Persian Lessons, directed by Vadim Perelman, is a uniquely imagined Holocaust drama that stands out not through depictions of violence, but through a striking concept: survival through the invention of language. Based on a short story by Wolfgang Kohlhaase, the film blends historical tragedy with psychological tension, offering a fresh and thought-provoking take on memory, deception, and resistance.
The film follows Gilles, a Belgian Jewish man captured by Nazis in 1942 and sent to a concentration camp. Facing execution, Gilles lies in a desperate bid to survive, claiming he is not Jewish but Persian. This lie unexpectedly saves him, as the camp’s deputy commandant, Klaus Koch, dreams of opening a restaurant in Tehran after the war—and wants to learn Farsi. Gilles, knowing no real Persian, must now invent an entire language from scratch, day by day, word by word, under the constant threat of exposure and death.
The heart of the story is the complex, dangerous relationship between Gilles and Koch. Gilles, played masterfully by Nahuel Pérez Biscayart, is a quiet force of resilience, navigating unimaginable pressure with cunning and fear. Lars Eidinger portrays Koch not as a caricature of evil, but as a disturbingly ordinary man who reveals both cruelty and strange vulnerability. This dynamic adds layers of moral ambiguity, never letting the viewer forget the brutal power imbalance at its core.
What makes Persian Lessons especially powerful is the linguistic act itself. Gilles does not just make up words to fool Koch; he assigns each word to the name of a fellow prisoner. In doing so, he creates a living memory bank, preserving the identities of those being systematically erased. By the end, the fabricated language becomes a monument—a hidden archive of resistance and remembrance.
The film’s visual style supports its subdued emotional tone. Muted color palettes, tight interior shots, and lingering silences create a sense of claustrophobia, reflecting Gilles’s inner turmoil. The violence is often implied rather than shown, making the tension psychological rather than visceral. It's a refreshing contrast to many Holocaust films that rely on graphic horror to convey suffering.
Critics have noted that the premise borders on implausible, and some may question whether the film humanizes Nazi characters too much. Yet, these concerns are balanced by the movie’s deeper message: that language, memory, and identity are intertwined—and that even in the most dehumanizing circumstances, there can be acts of profound resistance.
Persian Lessons is not a typical Holocaust film. It avoids sensationalism and instead offers something intimate, cerebral, and deeply moving. At its core, it's about the power of names, of memory, and of language as a weapon against erasure. For viewers seeking a quiet but powerful drama that lingers long after the credits roll, this film is an unforgettable experience.
