Jojo Rabbit: contexts and key sequences

A child’s experience of Nazi Germany

Jojo Rabbit (Taika Waititi, NZ, 2019) is a black comedy adapted from Christine Leunens’s 2008 novel Caging Skies. It follows ten-year-old Jojo Betzler, who enthusiastically supports Nazism and imagines Adolf Hitler as his best friend. His mother Rosie secretly shelters Elsa, a Jewish teenager, in their house. Meeting Elsa brings Jojo’s inherited prejudices into conflict with an actual person.

The film takes place towards the end of the Second World War, as defeat approaches for Nazi Germany. Its central contrast is between a child’s apparently exciting world and the persecution and violence that sustain the regime around him. Black comedy makes disturbing subjects comic; satire uses that comedy to criticise something. Here, the principal targets are Nazi beliefs, conformity and the adults who promote hatred—not the people they persecute.

Jojo’s imaginary Hitler is therefore not a straightforward reconstruction of the historical dictator. He embodies what a child has absorbed and invented about his idol. His childish behaviour makes the supposed authority figure ridiculous, while Jojo’s attachment to him shows how deeply propaganda can enter someone’s private life.

Youth, belonging and resistance

Social context concerns society and its structure; historical context places that society in time. For this film, both help explain Jojo’s desire to belong. He participates in the Nazi youth movement, specifically the Jungvolk, its section for boys aged ten to fourteen. Activities, uniforms and admiration for Hitler make political allegiance part of childhood experience.

Jojo’s collection of Nazi propaganda and memorabilia gives his devotion a concrete form. Collecting items associated with Hitler was a real activity among young supporters, and collecting scrap for the war effort was a task assigned to Nazi youth. These details connect his apparently ordinary interests to the regime’s wider mobilisation of children.

The political context is not simply that a war is happening. Nazi power encourages obedience and hostility towards Jewish people. Jojo initially treats Elsa through the prejudices he has been taught, rather than through anything he knows about her. Their developing relationship challenges those beliefs through personal contact.

Rosie offers a contrasting response to the same society. Her protection of Elsa is an act of resistance rather than compliance. Resistance within Germany had to be secretive and fragmented because open opposition was dangerous. The film gives Rosie a particularly visible, somewhat romanticised presence, but the hidden person in her home makes the need for secrecy tangible: a family house can also become a place of political defiance.

Colour, costume and the constructed world

The vivid visual style matters because the film does not initially present Jojo’s surroundings as uniformly bleak. A highly saturated palette makes colours intense, suggesting how attractive and normal the world can appear to a child who accepts its beliefs. This is not evidence that life under Nazism was harmless; it creates a contrast between appearances and the violence beneath them.

Cinematography works with mise-en-scène to create that effect. Brightly photographed streets, carefully designed interiors and Mayes C. Rubeo’s stylish costumes help make the world inviting. As the film becomes more melancholic, colours become less saturated. The change supports Jojo’s emotional experience and the passing of time.

Costume also distinguishes individuality from coercive authority. Nazi officials and the Gestapo have a comparatively bland appearance, suggesting conformity and control. Captain Klenzendorf’s untidy uniform separates him from that disciplined image. His later extravagant costume, including a red cape and heavy eye make-up, further marks his difference from other Nazi soldiers.

The Betzler house is especially important. Its large, open, friendly appearance suggests a comfortable family home, but its architecture also provides places for secrets and a person to be concealed. A setting can therefore establish social circumstances and enable the action at the same time.

Making a period film: funding and technology

Although the story is set in Germany, much of the film was shot on location in the Czech Republic. The Betzler house was built on a studio lot. Physical locations and constructed sets provided the foundation, while approximately 200 special-effects shots included set extensions that added period detail. The resulting world combines photographed spaces with post-production additions rather than being entirely computer-generated.

The film was shot on 35 mm film and predominantly used classical techniques, including dolly movement rather than handheld camera work. A dolly moves the camera smoothly on a wheeled support. These controlled movements help distinguish the film’s carefully composed world from a restless, documentary-like approach. Period photographs and colour documentary material also informed the visual design.

Institutional context explains how the project became possible. Waititi developed the adaptation from 2010, and the screenplay appeared on the Black List of admired unproduced scripts in 2012. Fox Searchlight eventually backed the project, working with TSG Entertainment to raise about US$14 million. Searchlight’s interest in director-led films helped support this unusual mixture of comedy and historical subject matter. Its requirement that Waititi play Hitler also connected a funding decision to the film’s central performance.

The opening: enthusiasm made visible and audible

The opening, approximately 00:00:36–00:04:23, introduces Jojo through his preparation and then his excited movement into the town. At first, muted yellows and relatively even, high-key lighting create a calm interior. Jojo speaks without accompanying score, making his words and self-presentation the focus of attention.

Jojo and imaginary Hitler initially appear relatively restrained. Hitler’s pacing can feel uneasy, but as he encourages Jojo, both become more expressive. Their exaggerated facial expressions and body language turn authority into something theatrical. Neat uniforms suggest seriousness, while the behaviour inside them undermines it.

When Jojo runs outside, brighter light and warmer, more vivid colours accompany his excitement. He is faster, louder and more animated than the people around him. The editing also accelerates. Rather than simply telling us that he is enthusiastic, performance, colour and pace make us experience that enthusiasm.

The soundtrack introduces the Beatles’ German-language version of I Want to Hold Your Hand, Komm, gib mir deine Hand. This is non-diegetic music accompanying the action, not a song established as playing within Jojo’s surroundings. Its energy matches his movement, but its later historical origin also makes it an anachronism.

Crucially, the sequence intercuts the fictional action with black-and-white archive footage of crowds responding to Hitler. Combining those images with a Beatles song creates a comparison with Beatlemania: political devotion resembles adoration of a pop star. The comparison helps spectators recognise the emotional attraction of mass enthusiasm without accepting the beliefs driving it.

A developed analytical point therefore connects the choices: the lively song and accelerating editing make Jojo’s devotion feel exhilarating, while the archive crowds reveal that his private excitement belongs to a wider culture of idolisation.

The youth camp: belonging has a cruel price

At the Hitler Youth camp, Jojo is pressured to kill a rabbit to prove his ruthlessness. He cannot bring himself to do it and receives the mocking nickname ‘Jojo Rabbit’. The concrete action reveals a contradiction: he wants acceptance within a movement that demands cruelty, but his own sensitivity prevents him from meeting that demand.

The camp is more than a setting for a joke. It shows how group pressure can enforce political values. The ridicule makes compassion appear shameful, encouraging a child to suppress it in order to belong. Jojo subsequently injures himself in a grenade accident, bringing actual bodily harm into the apparently exciting world of training.

This is characteristic of the film’s tonal balance. Absurdity and humiliation can produce laughter, yet the consequences prevent the camp from remaining an innocent adventure. The sequence gives the social context a specific dramatic form: indoctrination is experienced through other children, adult authority and tests of acceptable behaviour.

The Gestapo visit: comedy does not remove danger

The Gestapo sequence, approximately 01:06:05–01:14:17, brings state authority into the Betzler home. Its meaning depends on the contrast between a familiar domestic space and officials who can exercise enormous power over its occupants. Because Elsa is being hidden there, an inspection is inherently threatening.

The officials’ black clothing and glasses give them a collective visual identity. Stephen Merchant’s Deertz combines intimidating height with casual, conversational delivery. The apparent ordinariness of his manner makes the encounter disarming: someone need not shout or behave like an obvious monster to possess dangerous authority.

Repeated greetings of ‘Heil Hitler’ make conformity sound mechanical and absurd, especially when Klenzendorf and Finkel arrive and trigger another round of greetings. Deertz calls the visit a ‘routine inspection’. These short phrases work together: the greetings turn allegiance into a repetitive performance, while the reassuring word ‘routine’ disguises the inspection’s potentially deadly consequences.

The search moves upstairs. Deertz admires Jojo’s Nazi-filled bedroom and praises his ‘blind fanaticism’, revealing that unquestioning devotion is precisely what the authorities value. When Jojo is asked where his youth knife is, Elsa appears with it and claims to be his sister, Inge. Her explanation—that she is keeping Jojo out of her room—turns the knife into a prop supporting an apparently ordinary sibling disagreement. She must perform a believable identity because being recognised as Jewish would put her and her protectors in danger.

The identity papers then become the decisive prop. Elsa presents Inge’s papers, and Klenzendorf checks her date of birth. She answers ‘First of May’, giving the year as 1929. He replies ‘Correct’, accepting her identity. Only after the visitors leave does Elsa reveal that Inge was born on 7 May, not 1 May. Her conclusion, ‘He was helping us’, changes our understanding of the check: Klenzendorf has concealed the discrepancy rather than exposed her. His intervention shows an individual resisting persecution from within the regime, without removing the danger posed by the other officials.

Before leaving, the Gestapo discover Jojo’s book, Yoohoo Jew. Its invented images of Jewish people with horns or hanging like bats amuse them. Their approval exposes the absurdity of antisemitic propaganda: grown officials endorse a child’s fantasies as truth. Yet their casual reference to someone they have left hanging restores the violence beneath the comedy. These are not merely foolish visitors; their beliefs are connected to real persecution and killing.

The officials leave without exposing Elsa. This produces immediate relief, but not complete safety: Elsa fears that they will return and discover that Inge is dead. Jojo now wants to tell Rosie that he and Elsa are friends. The encounter therefore brings context into the action through a house search, identity documents and the need to conceal a person’s Jewish identity, while also showing Jojo’s growing concern for Elsa.

Editing throughout the film carefully balances comic moments with emotionally intense ones. The Gestapo encounter shows why that balance matters. If spectators notice only the absurd greetings, they miss the danger; if they notice only the threat, they miss how the film ridicules the behaviour of those enforcing it. The two responses can coexist.

Music and the limits of the comedy

Michael Giacchino’s score often has a fairy-tale-like quality, using traditional instrumentation and a relatively small orchestra. This supports the intimacy of the film and Jojo’s limited understanding of the world. The score generally expresses feeling rather than constantly underlining jokes, leaving performances to carry much of the comedy.

The distinction between the score and the pop songs is useful. Giacchino’s music supports character emotion, while recognisable German-language pop recordings can create energetic or deliberately anachronistic associations. Neither sound nor editing operates alone: their effects depend on the images, performances and events they accompany.

Why audiences disagreed about the satire

One argument in favour of the film is that ridicule punctures Nazi claims to authority. Jojo’s inability to kill the rabbit exposes a gap between ideological expectations and human feeling; meeting Elsa challenges prejudice through a relationship. Ella Kemp’s Sight and Sound review valued the film’s laughter at stupidity and its emphasis on innocence and love.

The opposing argument is that a friendly, playful tone can make Nazism seem too harmless. Mark Kermode’s Observer review questioned whether the film’s mixture of light and dark was sufficiently sharp, while Peter Bradshaw’s Guardian review argued that it failed to confront evil effectively. From this perspective, good intentions do not guarantee that the historical gravity survives the comedy.

A justified judgement needs to distinguish purpose from effect. The film clearly opposes hatred, but spectators may disagree about whether its methods communicate that opposition powerfully enough. The camp and Gestapo visit provide useful evidence: consider whether the cruelty and danger remain forceful alongside the jokes. For example, the birthday check makes Elsa’s survival depend on Klenzendorf’s intervention, whereas the officials’ delighted response to Jojo’s book turns their prejudice into comic stupidity. A judgement can weigh how effectively these moments work together.

Turning knowledge into an answer

The Section A sample assessment uses a 2-mark definition, a 3-mark description and a 15-mark exploration of social context. These are different tasks, not three versions of the same essay.

Practice question [2 marks]

What do you understand by the social context of a film?

A concise answer could be: ‘Social context means aspects of society and its structure reflected in a film, including the relationships and pressures that shape people’s lives.’ This defines the concept rather than retelling Jojo’s story.

Practice question [3 marks]

Briefly describe the main social context of Jojo Rabbit.

A focused answer could be: ‘The film depicts life in Nazi Germany towards the end of the Second World War. Children such as Jojo are drawn into Nazi beliefs through the youth movement. Jewish people face persecution, while protecting them, as Rosie protects Elsa, requires secrecy.’

Practice question [15 marks]

Explore how the narrative of Jojo Rabbit reflects its social context. Consider key characters and use at least one example from the film.

An extended answer needs connected explanation. The camp can demonstrate pressure to conform: Jojo’s refusal to kill the rabbit conflicts with the cruelty expected of him. Rosie’s protection of Elsa provides a contrasting response to the regime. The Gestapo inspection then shows how political authority threatens private life: Elsa must impersonate Inge, and her incorrect birthday could expose her unless Klenzendorf conceals the mistake. Develop what each example reveals about society and the characters, rather than simply listing events or naming techniques.

Film and context

• Jojo Rabbit: Waititi, NZ, 2019; adapted from Christine Leunens’s Caging Skies (2008).
• Black comedy and anti-hate satire set in Nazi Germany towards the war’s end.
• Jojo’s devotion reflects youth indoctrination; Rosie’s protection of Elsa reflects secret resistance to persecution.
• Jungvolk: boys aged 10–14. Propaganda collecting and scrap collection connect childhood to the regime.