The People vs. Fritz Bauer

Lars Kraume’s docudrama The People vs. Fritz Bauer could be considered a companion piece of sorts to, unexpectedly, Bryan Singer’s 2008 World War II historical thriller Valkyrie—and not just because Bauer, a crusading attorney general in post-war Germany, was instrumental in the indictment of a right-wing extremist, Otto Ernst Remer, for defamation against Claus von Stauffenberg and the other participants in the Hitler-killing plot Singer’s film chronicles. Both films attempt to generate suspense out of outcomes most of us already know: Stauffenberg’s plan failed in Valkyrie, while Fritz Bauer’s efforts to capture Adolf Eichmann, one of the Holocaust’s main architects, in The People vs. Fritz Bauer succeeded, though to not quite the degree Bauer hoped. Despite their different subjects and time-period settings, their goals are similar: to shine a heroic light on rebels who dared to defy their Nazi superiors for the sake of a better Germany.
Both are ultimately sober, tasteful affairs, memorable less for any cinematic invention than for their good intentions and the heavy import of their historical subject matter. Where The People vs. Fritz Bauer could be said to score over Valkyrie is in its more vivid characterizations. Though Singer managed to generate some real thriller tension from Stauffenberg’s quest, the characters remained bland and colorless at best, depicted as wholly devoted to the mission at hand without much inner life to call their own.
The Fritz Bauer of Kraume’s film, however, is a genuinely magnetic presence, at least in lead actor Burghart Klaussner’s interpretation. Though the screenplay, by Kraume and Olivier Guez, to some extent paints Bauer as a saint—the one litigator who was willing to swim among the former Nazis inhabiting high positions at the Federal Office of Criminal Investigation in his mission to force post-WWII Germany to confront its troubled past—Klaussner, with his reserves of dry humor, brings an introverted humanity to the figure. It doesn’t matter that Kraume and Guez, for some strange reason, wait until toward the end to reveal a piece of crucial backstory-building information about Bauer—he’s driven, in part, by his guilt over a moment during the war in which he kowtowed to the Nazis. One can sense that regret in Klaussner’s manner: the passion with which he undertakes his quest, the uncompromising toughness he maintains with many of his colleagues, the quiet anger he exudes when things don’t go his way.