Art has always been entwined with politics. Everyone appreciates art, until it’s used as a weapon with authority to influence lives.
The Director by Daniel Kehlmann is a brilliant novel recognized as a New York Times Top 10 Books of 2025. Following a film director and his family during World War II, this is a gripping and dark novel that conveys the emotions of dealing with the unknown.
Daniel Kehlmann is a German and Austrian author and playwright, most notably winning the literary award, Ludwig Börne Prize in 2024. The Director is a historical fiction novel, largely based on the real life of G.W. Pabst and his family. It depicts other historical figures such as Greta Garbo, Joseph Goebbels, and Louise Brooks. While many events and people are real, Kehlmann takes creative liberties in his narrative such as Pabst’s son, Jakob, who is fictionalized and the use of concentration camp prisoners as extras in his film.
In the novel, famous Austrian film director, G.W. Pabst, finds himself in Hollywood after being forced to flee the tensions in Europe as the Nazi regime gains power. Plotless scripts and over controlling producers only fuel his frustration and desperation in Hollywood. Pabst’s son, Jakob, grows up hopping between countries and learns to adopt roles to perfectly fit into the ideologies of his environment. After a failed film, Pabst gets a telegram from his sick mother, urging him to return to Austria, now a part of the Reich. His return to Austria, alongside his son and wife, Trude, sparks a harsh reality of the state control that runs rampant. Pabst holds onto the idea that his non-Jewish family will be safe until the Film Department’s Minister tracks him down and Pabst is unintentionally bound to making films under the Reich. He’s offered unlimited actors, budget, and freedom to make any film that isn’t communist. Or the other choice, concentration camps for his entire family. Pabst grapples with the moral compromises he never wanted to make, obey or be punished. Trude isolates herself from the outside world, surrounded by swastikas and military parades, and she spirals into alcoholism. On the other hand, Jakob is thriving. He joins the Hitler Youth, shooting birds with shotguns and singing march songs, completely surrendered and devoted to the Führer.
Kehlmann was able to carefully capture the nature of complicity as a slow process incredibly well. The point of view often shifts between Pabst, Trude, and Jakob, much like the structure of movies. Each narrative creates a sense of how they respond to the regime, crafting three-dimensional characters.
Pabst, a creative person who constantly visualizes a film scene in everyday life, thinks he can separate art from a corrupt system in pursuit of creating well developed films that scratches the itch that’s lingered since Hollywood. It’s not long before hesitant compromises become the norm. He casually does the Nazi salute and turns a blind eye to the extras that are prisoners of war brought to the set from Maxglan, a labour camp. After all, he might as well take advantage of his resources. Guilt is replaced with acceptance until it no longer tugs at his morals.
Meanwhile, Jakob is quick to adapt into Nazism. As one of the most interesting characters in the novel, Jakob knows what to say and what not to say to survive. He learns to adjust to the circumstances around him to not burden his parents. And this works, until his mind is changed and indoctrinated into an individual his parents no longer recognize. When Jakob visits his family with his friends during his boarding school’s break, his mother is distant. She’s more focused on the swastika on his sleeve than Jakob who is now taller than her. He jokes with his friends that she’s probably ill and not sober. Family support is replaced with absolute loyalty to the Nazi Party, where even parents become insignificant in the lives of Hitler youth.
“We want to be there for the whole, we want to fight, and if it comes to it, then we also want to die for something greater than ourselves. For the Reich and for our Führer. If we’re lucky, Felix and Boris and I, by the end of the year we’ll be in uniform,” Jakob tells Pabst.
“But you’re already in uniform,” Pabst responds.
“I mean the real one. The Wehrmacht.”
Jakob is both a victim to instilled Nazi ideology and a culprit involved in the genocide of a large population. Kehlmann’s writing paints him neither in a positive or negative light, but rather as a kid raised in impossible circumstances. One feels quite empathetic for Jakob through his nuanced character that evolves realistically. From an intelligent boy trying to fit in, to a soldier, forced to adapt to what is demanded of him.
At times, the pacing of the novel felt scattered. The first half often jumped between settings, and had several time skips that made it difficult to follow the narrative, often having to reread chapters to grasp the ideas better. This section focused on world building and creating an atmosphere where both the characters and readers have little idea of what the future will look like. The writing was vivid and paid close attention to sensory details which really immerses readers into the settings. This was especially effective since it showed a striking contrast between the sunny, brightly lit Hollywood and the war ridden Austria. However, the abundant perspectives of minor characters wasn’t highly compelling since it doesn’t allow the reader to connect with the main characters who could’ve had better development.
Pabst, for example, seemed dull and flat without much character motive at the start. It was hard to understand why he would willingly return to Austria when the Reich was feared even in Hollywood. Pabst insisted that his mother wanted him to go back, but there were hardly any loving interactions between Pabst and his mother that convinces the reader that there is a deep familial bond between them.
In the latter half however, the novel takes off.
There’s tension and emotions that are so humane that it’s hard to blame the characters for their actions. The novel focuses on many practical aspects of filming a movie including the editing, camera techniques, and retaking scenes until it’s up to par. These sections enhanced the authenticity of Pabst’s passion for creating art. Kelhmann doesn’t portray Pabst as a villain or a coward for succumbing to the Film Department’s Ministry. Rather, Kehlmann raises the question of an artist’s moral responsibility during dark times.
At what point does one become too entangled with evil that it can’t be justified? Some artist may rebel, and others may accept the impossible task because that is the best choice to survive.
Cover Image: Simon & Schuster

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