“Why do you think your neighbor is Hitler?”
Film and television have given us many takes on the WWII experience from a multitude of vantage points. Some have crashed and burned, such as the offensive and puzzling British sitcom, Heil Honey, I’m Home, which saw Adolf Hitler living a kind of working-class existence with Eva Braun, a la The Honeymooners. Others have opened up interesting pockets of history the way the 2015’s Remember did. That film had Christopher Plummer battling memory loss as he tries to recall the truth about his time in Germany during the war. While some are based in fact, such as the case with the latter, others tend to theorize about various aspects of WWII in an effort to tell a great story. Co-writer/director Leon Prudovsky has managed both feats with My Neighbor Adolf, a film set in South America in the 1960s that both honors the WWII experience and concocts a captivating “what if” scenario that keeps viewers guessing all the way through.
In My Neighbor Adolf, a holocaust survivor named Polsky (David Hayman) lives a solitary existence in a small Argentinian town. Having lost his family during the war, Polsky does very little besides tending to the black roses in his garden. His way of life is challenged, however, when Polsky meets Herzog (Udo Kier), a man who has moved from Buenos Aires into the house next door. At first, Polsky is reluctant to accept his new neighbor, but the more he encounters Herzog, the more he starts to believe that he is actually Hitler himself.
Prudovsky’s film wouldn’t be the intriguing experience it is without its campy humor. We begin with a pre-war intro where Polsky is taking a photo with his family. Just before they pose, his wife (Dorota Liliental) hands him dark roses, mentioning that they’re his favorite. As everyone gets ready, the camera just keeps on winding with everyone standing still waiting for it to go off. It’s a sentimental, funny, and important introduction to the character of Polsky and sets the stage for the surprisingly dark comedic tone that flows throughout the movie. The humor and the camp are both turned up as we follow Polsky in the present day, thanks in large part to the overly dramatic score that’s more fun than it has any right to be. The bulk of the comedy comes from the main character himself. There’s a maddening quality to Polsky’s situation that begins when he finds out a new fence must be constructed, which would put his beloved dark rose bushes on Herzog’s property. This, of course, leads to Polsky having a confrontation with Herzog, whom he is instantly convinced is the supposedly dead Hitler, which sparks an obsession in him to prove his theory. There’s a great montage of Polsky researching and gathering evidence to expose Herzog, accompanied by some solid comedy touches as we see his obsession begin to take shape. Polsky eventually gains his new neighbor’s trust and the pair soon find themselves engaging in daily chess games, which the film manages to present as both deliciously campy and genuinely suspenseful. The two continue to play chess, and Herzog even paints Polsky’s portrait. Before we know it, an Odd Couple sort of dynamic has taken shape that proves good fun to watch and adds to the suspense about whether or not Herzog is actually the man himself.
As fun as the dark campy comedy aspect of My Neighbor Adolf can be, the film truly succeeds when it explores Polsky’s human side. When we first encounter him in the present day, he is shown to be a very caustic and hardened individual, understandably so. With no friends to speak of and hardly any interaction with the outside world, for that matter, Polsky’s sole pleasure is in taking care of his bushel of black roses. In fact, for most of the film, his interaction with them is the only time we see the character in anything resembling peace. Taking care of the roses brings Polsky contentment and allows him to remember what he lost, not with sadness, but rather with love. As he gets more and more determined to prove his suspicions and expose his neighbor, the film becomes about a man dealing with his past. As obsessed as Polsky becomes and as seemingly ludicrous as his notion is, there’s something incredibly cathartic and therapeutic in his quest as he finds himself confronting feelings that have been a long time coming. At one point, the question must be asked: Has Polsky created this situation in his mind because it’s the only way he can finally face what happened to him and his family? His mission to prove himself right leads to a number of surprising occurrences, the most memorable being a sweet moment with the portrait Herzog has painted of him, which has Polsky smiling. His reaction in that scene sees him silently trying to recall the last time he smiled. It’s moments such as these that are responsible for the interesting dynamic Polsky and Herzog end up developing as friends, which eventually becomes unexpectedly sweet and tender. A later scene sees Herzog asking his friend about his family after seeing the aforementioned photo. This takes Polsky aback, not just at the possibility that this might be Hitler asking him this question, but also because this is the first time anyone has mentioned them aloud.
Hayman is simply wonderful in the leading role. He crafts a character with a well of suppressed emotions and internal damage, allowing us to be a part of the journey. It’s a soulful and beautiful portrayal that helps to anchor what is a very poetic story. With the exception of a late third-act scene, Herzog isn’t necessarily the most special role for Kier to end his legendary career on, but the film still sees him giving his committed best (which he was always famous for), remaining a screen presence to be reckoned with right up until the end.
In case it wasn’t apparent before, I liked My Neighbor Adolf. It’s a quirky, yet emotional tale that offers up both campy humor while never diminishing the importance of its subject. But while we’re on the topic of Kier, I should point out that while I liked the film and his work in it, it’s not the kind of career topper that his fans would’ve probably wished for him to have. The best role with which to end his estimable career came four years earlier with 2021’s Swan Song, in which he played a gay former hairdresser who embarks on a road trip to do the hair of a longtime client who recently passed away. It was the most funny and thoughtful performance Kier ever put on screen. Even if My Neighbor Adolf doesn’t give him as much to play with as that film does in terms of character and pathos, it’s still a reminder of what an incredible actor he was.
