A Filmmaker Considers Memories of Suffering

When most filmmakers set out to make their first feature, the result is typically something straightforward and economic, working within the confines of a given genre.

But when Gil Kofman conceived his debut, "The Memory Thief," he not only thought big — as in the sweep and scope of the Holocaust — but controversial, envisioning a central character who steals the memories of Holocaust survivors by hoarding their videotaped testimonials so he can watch them compulsively.

As Mr. Kofman prepares to unveil his finished product this Friday at Quad Cinema, only one thing is certain: As one of the few Holocaust-oriented thrillers ever made, the movie is, if nothing else, a peculiar and confident creation.

Still, to hear Mr. Kofman discuss the project in a very matter-of-fact fashion, one nearly becomes convinced that "The Memory Thief" is not the least bit provocative. Speaking recently with the director as he prepared to screen the film for audiences in Warsaw and other Eastern European spots, he said he initially was inspired by the real-life stories of his wife's family. Her father, uncle, and grandmother all survived the Holocaust, and their personal stakes in those atrocities has always stayed with him.

"When you hear someone in a play about the Holocaust talk about these things, versus someone who actually went through it, the notion of being 'hungry' or 'thirsty' means something entirely different," Mr. Kofman said. "At the center of 'The Memory Thief' is this idea of, 'How does one transmit these materials and memories?' Because when you have a character in a play or a film say something, it doesn't have the same weight as when you hear a survivor recall their struggles."

Such is the lesson learned in the movie by Lukas (played by Mark Webber), a shy and awkward tollbooth clerk whose quotidian monotony is interrupted one day by a racist motorist who tosses a copy of Adolf Hilter's "Mein Kampf" into the booth. Bored, Lukas starts reading it. Eventually, perhaps inevitably, he incurs the outrage of another passing driver, a Holocaust survivor who responds to the supposed neo-Nazi by throwing a videotape at him.

When he pops the tape into his VCR and watches this man's account of the horrors he was forced to endure, Lukas is reasonably overcome by guilt and sadness. But later, after he has begun to volunteer at a foundation that records survivor histories, something in Lukas snaps. He borrows one video after another from the office, becoming so obsessed with the details of the recollections that he tries to coach one survivor during a video shoot, telling him how to be more convincing on camera.

Before long, he has purchased a mezuzah, shaved his head, tattooed numbers into his arm, and re-enacted a death march, striving to feel the pain that millions of Jews and others experienced half a century ago.

"Obviously, he doesn't respond to all this in a healthy way," Mr. Kofman said. "But I've been shocked at what I've heard. I was in Oregon with the movie and I found myself approached by three psychiatrists who said that they deal with people like this all the time. There are stories of people in the Holocaust community who turned out to be frauds, of that woman after 9/11 who said she was a survivor and it turned out she had never even been near the Twin Towers. There are people like this, looking for something they can cling to."

As jarring as it may be to watch Lukas in one of the film's final scenes, surrounded by dozens of televisions, enthralled by the chorus of survivor stories, Mr. Kofman said he has been overwhelmed by the positive response he's received from members of the Jewish community.

In part, he said, the positivity stems from his attempt to pull the Holocaust into a contemporary context, treating it not as ancient history but as a profound experience that still affects people today. But more than that, Mr. Kofman said, many have recognized "The Memory Thief" as one of the first films to address the notion of Holocaust testimonials — what these videos mean, the power they can have on those with or without a connection to the events, and the way they can be misused.

"There's definitely a Hollywood convention when it comes to stories like this," Mr. Kofman said, referring to the way the Holocaust has been manipulated and codified for drama over time. "There's a moment in so many Holocaust movies when the people go into the showers, and they think they're going to get gassed, but then it's just water. But in real life, 99.9% of the time, there was gas. There tends to be this fixation on the survivor, so that we can come to some sense of closure before leaving the theater."

Not only does "The Memory Thief" strive to avoid any sense of closure, it gives us a central character who is despicable and earnest in equal measure. The more we watch Lukas exploit the survivors' memories for his own emotional satisfaction, the more we come to identify something monstrous in his behavior. But later, when he takes his selfish obsession to yet another emotional plateau, he becomes a vexing figure. Is he manipulating the memories? Is he upholding them? Is he falling victim to a natural sense of empathy?

It's not an easy conversation, but Mr. Kofman's evocative experiment shows it's a debate worth having.

ssnyder@nysun.com