Michael Sicinski’s review published on Letterboxd:
What do Jojo Rabbit and Donald Trump have in common?
Their defenders stan way too hard for them. It's like something is on the line beyond politics or taste; a sense of personal identity.
("People who don't like that are the kind of nasty, elitist, fundamentally rotten type of people I would never, ever want to be. In fact, I want to spit in the smug faces of such people, every chance I get.")
Pretty interesting results for an "anti-hate satire," don't you think?
For the record, this needed to be either much, much meaner, or so blithely innocent as to make that innocence an intolerable, self-undermining element that challenged or even indicted the viewer. But Waititi is no Mel Brooks, and he is certainly no Pasolini. Alas, he's but a second-rate Wes Anderson.