Fatherland Review

I’ll admit I know precious little about Thomas Mann, the central figure that looms large both within and over Paweł Pawlikowski’s gorgeous film Fatherland. But that doesn’t matter, as Pawlikowski and screenwriter Henk Handloegten care less about diving into the biographical elements of Mann’s story – in this case, his trip to a divided Germany in 1949 to accept the Goethe Award for his literary works, both from the West and the East – and more about deeply affecting questions of identity.

Fatherland offers us three distinct characters – Mann (the great Hanns Zischler), his daughter, Erika (the great Sandra Hüller), and his son Klaus (a great August Diehl in a brief, but affecting portrayal), each of whom is struggling with their own questions of identity. Mann, the cultural giant who has lived in the US for several years having fled Nazi Germany, returns to his “home” unsure of where he stands politically. Presented with the choice of visiting the East – and alienating his new home, America (where he has since obtained citizenship, largely because he was seen as a prize to be won) – he is unwilling to take any sort of stand against what is occurring under Soviet occupation and continues to play both sides. And, numerous times throughout the piece, when asked about how he identifies himself, he demurs, refusing to commit himself to one nation, one nationality, one people. Things are much more clear with his children. Klaus, crushed under the weight of his father’s name, cannot fathom a world where he can exist without the mention of his father in the same breath. Openly gay*, he would be a pariah in the new Germany (especially the East) and vows to stay away from everything to do with his father. His only touchstones to his family are his mother and Erika, the lynch pin holding the Mann family together.

*Queerness is yet another identity touched on throughout the film, albeit in more subtle ways outside of Klaus’ open and out there life in France. Fitting, as both Thomas and Erika Mann were open about their own queerness – to varying degrees – in their writing and lives. 

Where Thomas Mann is presented as an opaque figure, unwilling to rock the boat, Erika is the beating heart of the piece. Cerebral, quick-thinking, and asked to shoulder the emotional weight of the family and their secrets, she’s a textbook oldest daughter (as we’d say today). She understands the social and political games at play, recognizes the minefield her father has walked into (he’s damned if he doesn’t come to West Germany – he’s become an American weakling – and damned if he does – he must go to the East or else risk his reputation there, should the Soviets come out victorious in the Cold War). And she’s also the only one who can tell her father, to his face, that he cares more about his precious reputation than doing the right thing and still remain in his good graces. Such is the role of the eldest daughter. Anyone who has watched Hüller’s previous recent work won’t be the least bit surprised that she manages to convey each and every bit of Erika’s frustration, thinly held together calm, and calculating action through both her outward and inner work. Her face tells us everything we need to know and when she allows Erika to let her guard down – briefly – we see just who this complex woman is outside of the carefully constructed facade necessary for such a complex journey into her and her father’s pasts.

With so many big ideas fighting for control of the narrative – nationalism, identity, the complexity of capitalist and communist powers, family trauma, fathers and their children – the film could have easily spun out of control. And at a shockingly short 82 minute run time, one would expect that each of these big ideas would get short shrift. But they don’t. Every moment hits. Pawlikowski and Handloegten’s script is tight, taut, and smart. The emotional beats are earned – the final moment of the film is utterly heartbreaking in a way I wasn’t prepared for. And when you cast two truly exceptional actors like Hüller and Zischler, the script, direction, and story is able to sing in ways it might not in less experienced hands. Yes, this is a more cerebral film than you might expect from this director, but the emotional beats are clear, the visual story being told is easy to follow (and there are some truly gorgeous shots to behold), and the performances are both grounded and emotionally resonate when called upon. You won’t get the trappings of a traditional biopic because this isn’t meant to be one. It’s a slice of the life of three exceptional writers as they confront pieces of their identity and try to reconcile who they were, who they are, and who they might become.

Fatherland will be released later this year. It was screened at the 2026 Chicago International Film Festival.