Interesting as a film about the possibility of compassionate capitalism. Or maybe it should be the impossibility, in that it takes the industrial-scale persecution, humiliation and slaughter of 6,000,000 for Schindler to acquire a dangerous sense of compassion. But it remains ambiguous as to whether Schindler actually comprehends the reality of what's happening.
Candor compels me to admit that Schindler's List not only made me blubber helplessly both times I saw it, once before and once after reading Thomas Keneally's fascinating nonfiction novel; it has also, though I have some misgivings, won my gratitude and respect.
The first time I saw “Schindler’s List,” it enraged me. . . . Not surprisingly, I see it very differently now. Whereas a quarter-century ago I only could recognize Spielberg’s signature, saccharine sentimentality, now I register how many punches he pulled — how carefully he built his very necessary case using the exact tools for which my younger (and rasher) self faulted him.