‘Pink Rabbit’: WWII as seen through a child’s eyes
Above: Riva Krymalowski stars in "When Hitler Stole Pink Rabbit," which opens today at the Magic Lantern Theatre. (Photo/Warner Bros.)
Movie review: "When Hitler Stole Pink Rabbit," directed by Caroline Link, starring Riva Krymalowski, Oliver Masucci, Carla Juri. In German with English subtitles. Playing at the Magic Lantern Theatre.
Judith Kerr is a name that even children’s librarians might not immediately recognize. Not, at least, until you share with them the title of Kerr’s most famous children’s book, “The Tiger Who Came to Tea.”
Kerr, who died in 2019 at the age of 95, was an acclaimed children’s author and illustrator from England. Her 1968 “Tiger” book, which she both wrote and provided the art for, still ranks as one of the best-selling children’s books of all time.
Nothing about the book, though, gives an indication of just how much of a struggle Kerr’s early life was – unless, of course, you consider the prospect of a tiger coming to tea somewhat threatening.
Kerr’s family was German, and there’s no doubt about the threat they faced in 1933. For one thing, they were Jewish. For another, Kerr’s father Alfred Kerr – a well-known theater and literary critic – was an outspoken critic of Adolf Hitler. Targeted by the Nazis, the elder Kerr fled Germany with his wife (the musician Julia Weismann) and their two children – Judith and her older brother Michael.
That story serves as the basic plot of Kerr’s semi-auto-biographical, young-adult trilogy, “Out of the Hitler Time,” the first book of which, titled “When Hitler Stole Pink Rabbit,” was published in 1971. The family’s story now has been adapted into a feature film – also titled “When Hitler Stole Pink Rabbit” – that is playing at the Magic Lantern Theatre.
Directed by Caroline Link from a script she co-wrote with Anna Brüggerman, the film version of Kerr’s trilogy is – like the books themselves – not a memoir. It’s fiction based on real events.
Thus the Kerr family is, in the film, the Kemper family, and the given names are different, too. Dad (played by Oliver Masucci) is Arthur, Mom (Carla Juri) is Dorthea, big brother (Marinus Hohman) is Max and Judith’s counterpart is Anna (the actress Riva Krymalowski, who was 11 years old when the film was shot in 2019).
When their mutual story begins, just weeks before Germany’s fateful 1933 federal elections, the Kempers are enjoying their firmly upper-middle-class existence. With dad securely employed, mom keeping house while working on an opera, and the obstreperous Anna and her affable brother doing well in school, only the adults have any idea of what may be coming. Anna in particular basks in the attention given to her by the family’s live-in housekeeper, Heimpi (played by Ursula Werner).
But then dad disappears, leaving mom to explain to the children that he has fled to Prague. And, pretty soon, they will have to leave, too – the prospect of which doesn’t please anyone, especially Anna who is told that she will be able to pack only one toy and one book. She chooses to leave behind her beloved pink rabbit, convinced that – after a few months – she’ll be able to return and reclaim it.
History tells us that’s not going to happen. And so the family ends up living in a guest house in Switzerland, the kids having to adapt to new friends, a new school and, basically, a new language – Swiss German being a different dialect than standard German.
That, though, is only the beginning of the story. Word gets back to the Kempers that the Nazis have put a thousand-mark price on dad’s head, dad himself can’t make a living in Switzerland – because the Swiss don’t want to inflame relations with the German government – and it becomes clear that the family will have to move on. And even then, again as history tells us, they might not be safe.
We see all this through Anna’s eyes. The pain of dislocation affects her dearly, and though we know the dangers the family faces, both Anna and Max are more concerned about having to disrupt their respective lives – which, as children, of course they are.
Which is the tone that Kerr’s young-adult source material conveys, a representation of how a child would experience such disruption. And which is why director Link tends to create a mood that at times feels more like “The Sound of Music” than, say, “Schindler’s List.” What Kerr’s story has, though, is originality.
After all, cinema has documented many Holocaust experiences, and most concern unfortunate souls carted off to death camps. Few have followed families as they desperately try to stay ahead of their pursuers, determined to re-create themselves – and their lives – as they do so.
As Anna and her brother at one point agree, most successful people are the product of unhappy childhoods. Judith Kerr’s losing a rabbit doll may not, in the end, rank as the worst of losses. But it seemed that way to her as a child. And whatever else that occurred in her life, she was – in the end – as successful as any author can be.
An edited version of this review was previously broadcast on Spokane Public Radio.