Memoria [EN] No. 80 | Page 26

Auschwitz and the Holocaust, which has been recognised for a long time and continues to hold relevance in today's society. The crux of this issue is finding a middle ground between factual communication and emotional impact, ensuring empathy grows as knowledge deepens instead of fading away. The series The Tattooist of Auschwitz primarily aims to create a strong emotional impact, prioritising the emotional aspect rather than presenting factual information. The audience becomes emotionally invested in the destiny of the primary characters and profoundly engages with their experiences. I will leave the question of whether "experiencing" also entails "understanding", particularly in cases where the story deviates from historical truth, open for discussion.

The set design in the series is commendable and should be regarded as one of its strong points. The recreation of the Birkenau camp was done with great attention to detail, but even so, the creators made some mistakes, ranging from minor to more significant ones. To begin with, the screen mainly depicts the Auschwitz II - Birkenau camp, with a particular emphasis on the entirely wooden barracks of section BII. In the scene depicting Lali's arrival at the camp (episode 1), an SS officer informs the new prisoners that they will be sent to the Birkenau camp. However, in April 1942, the men's camp was located in Auschwitz I. Initially, Ludovit Eisenberg was sent to Auschwitz I, as Birkenau only housed Soviet prisoners of war and extremely exhausted prisoners transferred from the main camp's hospital. Understandably, the choice to swiftly relocate the action to Birkenau could be rationalised based on practical considerations, specifically the obstacles and expenses involved in recreating the main camp's scenery. This would be easily understandable if it weren't for the fact that the series still had scenes explicitly set in the Auschwitz I camp (e.g. episode 3).

It is also a mistake to place all scenes exclusively in wooden barracks. In contrast to the series, the camp in April 1942 did not include the BII sector. It consisted only of the BI section, which comprised brick barracks. Also, Block 25, where Cilka was incarcerated, was built of brick, not wood.

Regarding the visual aspect of the series' wooden barracks, it is incorrect to suggest that their doors and some walls are almost openwork. The gaps between the boards are wide enough to let in light. If the gaps between the planks of the barrack walls were truly as wide as shown in the series, the prisoners would have frozen to death in winter. In reality, the planks of the barrack doors and walls were tightly bound together. Additionally, it is incorrect to claim that the prisoners slept on bare planks (episode 1), as they were provided with mattresses.

In the scene where Lali is depicted assisting civilians with the construction of the barracks (episode 1) - which is still the spring of 1942 - smoke can be seen in the distance billowing out of the Birkenau camp (in a place where crematoria were built only in the next year). To the viewer, it evokes thoughts of smoke emanating from the crematorium chimneys. However, at that time, the corpses were burned in Crematorium I at the main camp, whereas, at Birkenau, the bodies were buried in mass graves. Furthermore, it is worth noting that the prisoners solely constructed the barracks in Birkenau, with no assistance from civilian workers.

A striking detail is the camp's consistent untidiness, with barrels haphazardly placed under the fence, rubbish accumulated under the barracks, and scattered tools, stools, wooden boxes, and unspecified objects strewn about in multiple areas. This is perhaps consistent with the casual depiction of the camp as a location characterised by dirt. As we know from prisoners' accounts, such a mess was unacceptable.

A further issue is that there should be no guards on duty at the women's camp. The responsibility was typically carried out by female SS supervisors, who made occasional and individual appearances throughout the series. Moreover, the camp did not have any SS officers patrolling with dogs within its premises, as there was no requirement for such measures. The dogs' primary purpose was to prevent any potential escape by prisoners working outside, thus functioning as supervisors for the external commandos.

The scene depicting Lali walking between the warehouse barracks (episode 2) is improbable. As previously mentioned, if an SS man had escorted him, the protocol would have dictated that he walk a few paces ahead rather than behind. Nevertheless, the presence of Lali here, without any valid reason, is doubtful. Gita worked at the warehouses of the so-called Canada I, situated between the Auschwitz I and Birkenau camps on today's Kolbego Street. In the TV series, the scenery erroneously resembles the storage barracks in sector BIIg at Birkenau, which were not yet operational until mid-1943. Given that Lali, a tattoo artist, had no tasks to attend to in that location, it is evident that he could not stay there.

Despite the drawbacks mentioned above, the set design can be regarded as commendable. At first glance, the camp is undeniably similar to the one that a present-day viewer may recognise from visiting the Museum or seeing photographs. However, there is a noticeable mistake regarding the courtyard of Block 11. Errors regarding the positioning of specific facilities remain elusive to most viewers and can be deemed insignificant.

The same goes for the set design and the costumes and props. The overall impression is satisfactory, if not excellent, although there were a few significant errors. An alarming mistake, considering the fact that the protagonist of the series is a prisoner who works as a tattoo artist, is the insufficient depiction of the prisoners' tattooing technique. To do this, Lali uses a needle set on a wooden handle, which he dabs in ink. However, as we have learned from the numerous testimonies of former prisoners, the process of tattooing involved piercing the skin with a needle and then applying ink to the resulting wounds using a cloth. What's important is that the tattoo site was not disinfected either before (as we see in the series) or after the procedure, occasionally resulting in the wound becoming infected.

The costume deficiencies are readily evident in the scene depicting the camp evacuation in January 1945 (episode 5). 5). The female prisoners, lined up to march out of the camp, are definitely too lightly dressed and, notably, have no blankets. According to survivor testimonies, before the march, both male and female prisoners made every effort to acquire extra clothing, specifically bringing camp blankets with them on the journey to shield themselves from the cold. The scene of prisoners exiting the camp in rows suggests that it is not winter but late autumn.

The most significant error in the costumes is the misrepresentation of the badges, i.e. the category markings on the prisoners' striped uniforms. Initially, Jews were identified by the combination of two triangles forming a Star of David. The lower triangle was yellow, while the second triangle represented the specific category of prisoner, typically a red triangle for political prisoners. This is different from the depiction in the series, where both triangles are yellow. The registration photos of Jews deported to Auschwitz in April 1942 provide evidence that such identification marks were issued during that time. Therefore, it is reasonable to assume that Lali would have also received one at the start of his stay in the camp.

In July 1942, a significant change occurred - the introduction of patches with stamped numbers and two-coloured badges. Another error made by the creators of the film was failing to label the Jewish prisoners with letters indicating their nationality, which is a crucial detail. The series lacks not only reliability in the representation of prisoner markings, but also consistency - some Jewish prisoners have a letter denoting nationality and some do not. In addition, no female prisoners - not even those who are not Jewish - have letters, and so a letter designation should be given.

One of the more puzzling aspects in screen adaptations concerning the fate of Auschwitz prisoners is the matter of prisoner numbers, which should be sewn onto the striped uniforms of all inmates. Due to the practice of assigning unique numbers to new arrivals at Auschwitz without reusing the numbers of the deceased, each camp number holds significant personal information, particularly the exact time of arrival at the camp. Consequently, unreflectively resorting to random numbers not only carries the risk of factual errors (as seen in the previously mentioned case of mislabelling a nurse at Dr Schumann's experimental station) but also entails the accusation of manipulating someone's identity and misrepresenting their story. The creators of the series The Tattooist of Auschwitz devised a unique solution to this problem, perhaps unprecedented thus far, namely replacing single digits with letters in the visible numbers of the prisoners. It is essential to acknowledge their sensitive and respectful approach to this issue, which is highly commendable. However, it is crucial that the viewer receives sufficient information from them before airing the episode. Without an explanation, using letters in prisoner numbers becomes a perplexing and intriguing enigma.