Monos begins high above the rest of the world. So high, that one can watch the fluffy tops of clouds as they meander across the sky. So high, that trouble seems a distant, unthinkable thing. But trouble finds its way everywhere eventually. It will hunt you down with relentless feet and unbounded strength. For the eight teenaged soldiers stationed atop a Columbian mountain, trouble comes in the form of a dairy cow. Or maybe that is an oversimplification. Maybe trouble was always there, awaiting an opportunity to rear its bloody head. Because these are isolated teenagers, orphans really, conscripted into a war they don’t fully understand. The tragedy is that for this group, peace was never truly an option.

Choice is always lacking in Monos. There is no escape from this beautiful, isolated place. They are trapped together and so, together they form a makeshift family with makeshift names. Throughout the film, the teenagers only use pseudonyms. Their false names are like flimsy costumes, war-like personas that they assume as they pretend to be soldiers. Still, for all their bravado, they are young. There is so much potential in their youth and so much danger. Youth is corruptible and all that potential can quickly turn sour. The question becomes if any of that budding hope can survive in such an unforgiving environment. The adults, those who should be caretakers to the children, hand them guns instead. And so, when there is no one to turn to and nowhere to go, what can they do except obey orders and shoot to kill? In the rampage of war, they are the most helpless pawns of all. In their attempts to gain a semblance of power for themselves, the teenagers can only imitate the system that they know, one of violence and oppression. Even imagining a world without endless conflict seems impossible.

The film, though, is not devoid of hope or beauty. There is no lack of beautiful landscapes, even when they become marred by blood. The stony majesty of the mountain is framed in beautiful wide shots by cinematographer, Jasper Wolf. The camera soars above all, to the heavens, rendering every person small and insignificant. Against the vast expanses of sky, the teenagers are only black shadows. They are rendered indistinct, without detail as they stare into a universe that seems infinite. The tragedy, though, is in the limitations. During their brutal training sessions, the frame becomes claustrophobically tight on their faces. We see all the strain, all the terror of failing or showing any weakness. For, no weakness will be tolerated. They are trapped again. The way Monos alternates between different kinds of shots is unsettling. It throws audiences into an uncomfortable situation where nothing is quite safe. Even during the moments of exhilaration, when there exists the possibility of a haven within the confines of war, there always looms a sense of dread. This is reinforced by an intermittent score that kicks in without warning and ends in a searing screech. Otherwise, the film is almost entirely silent, broken only by snatches of dialogue.

That dialogue is delivered with equal amounts of veracity and vulnerability by the young actors. Especially prominent is Sofia Buenaventura as Rambo. Rambo is the gentlest of the group and therefore, tasked with the most inner conflict. She has still not quite given up the idea of a different life, one that she can see with eyes that express every feeling. But even the harshest of the teenagers do not begin as stony killers. They are capable of happiness, capable of openness. Gradually, though, as they close their hearts, as they embrace violence, the actors become harsher too. Their expressions sharpen and bodies move more wildly, desperation in every tendon. But no matter how hard they strive, they can’t escape. Their actions are meaningless in a grander scheme.

Monos is an unrelenting ride. It alternates between loud and quiet, between small and large. However, for all its varying extremes, there is one overwhelming direction. Down. The film plummets from the beautiful mountaintop into the depths of the jungle. We fall with it, knowing that there is nothing to waiting to catch us at the bottom.

This weekend marks the opening of Jojo Rabbit, a movie about a young German boy named Jojo, who learns that Jews are not as bad as he has been taught, through a blend of irreverent humor and surprising seriousness. However, I think that despite the advertising, I did not feel this movie was as focused on being an “anti hate satire” as it so claimed. Instead, I saw it more as a commentary on the opinions people may have about others who are unlike them, and how easily stereotypes can be broken. Young Jojo completely assumes the Jewish girl he finds hiding in his attic is the epitome of the devil, however he learns that when you get to know someone, they are not always the people that others claim them to be. While there were definitely an abundance of comedic moments, I was surprised by how many times I felt emotionally moved, either to sadness or contemplation. In between the humor, there were scenes that were very real and addressed the intensity of the time period, reminding viewers they they were, in fact, watching a movie about the mass genocide of human beings.

As a Jew, I found some of the scenes containing actual events to be a little underwhelming, in terms of how serious or intense they should be. While I do understand that it was a comedy, these events are not to be skimmed over. The beginning of the movie really threw me off in this respect, as it showed people enjoying heiling and having a good time at political rallies. The teenage girl who lived in the attic did not seem nearly as unhappy as you’d believe someone living in a small space for probably over a year might be, and some of the aspects of the war scene were not as traumatic as you’d imagine they would be for a young boy.

The character of Hitler, played by Taika Waititi, the director, was an integral part of both the comedy and profundity of the movie. He brought an interesting twist to the idea of an imaginary friend as he was at times scarily realistic, but at others, seemed just like a 10 year old boy. Waititi played such an interesting role, as both a dictator and a kid’s imaginary friend. At first, he was just funny commentary on Jojo’s life, but continued to lose his influence over Jojo and got more and more terrifying as Jojo began to befriend the girl in the attic. I really enjoyed Jojo as a character as well, and the arc that he experienced was very uplifting as he learned that Jews are not mind-controllers with horns. It made me hopeful for our future, that if we can get to know each other, maybe those who are different than us will not seem so scary after all. As a female, and a Jew, I related very strongly to the girl who was being hidden in Jojo’s house. She represented the reality of the situation and the fear of having such a dangerous and uncertain future very well. Her stories of her previous life being ripped away were intensely tragic.

Overall, I do not think the movie was as good as the critics are raving, but it was definitely an experience I enjoyed. Its perceptivity of how different people can learn to understand each other as well as its humor made it a movie worth going to see.