A defiant brushstroke against darkness

In a world hungry for stories of resilience and hope, a new film arrives with the force of a revelation.

Bau, Artist at War — directed by Sean McNamara and starring Emile Hirsch, Inbar Lavi and Yan Tual — is a testament to the indomitable human spirit.

The film opens in Winnipeg on Friday, offering audiences a chance to witness one of the most extraordinary true stories to emerge from the ashes of the Second World War.

At its heart is Joseph Bau, a gifted artist, master forger and Holocaust survivor whose courage and creativity became tools of resistance.

Born in Krakow, Poland, Bau was imprisoned in the Plaszow concentration camp, where, in addition to being forced to draw maps and signs for the Nazis because of his facility with Gothic script, he used his artistic talents to forge documents that helped fellow prisoners escape. His work was not only an act of survival — it was an act of rebellion.

But Bau, Artist at War is more than a war drama. It’s also a love story, espionage thriller and historical reckoning. Amid unimaginable brutality, Joseph met Rebecca, a woman whose strength matched his own.

Their secret wedding, held inside the concentration camp, was a defiant act of love later immortalized in Steven Spielberg’s film Schindler’s List. The film revisits this moment with reverence, portraying it as a beacon of humanity in a place designed to extinguish it.

The narrative spans decades, following Bau from the horrors of the Holocaust to the postwar years, when he is called to testify against the sadistic Nazi officer who tormented him. These courtroom scenes are emotional reckonings, forcing Bau to confront the trauma he survived and the memories he tried to bury.

Through it all, he draws strength from the love that saved him, the art that sustained him and the unyielding will that kept him alive.

Hirsch (Into the Wild) delivers a nuanced performance as Joseph Bau, capturing both the quiet intensity of a man haunted by his past and the fierce determination of a survivor who refuses to be defined by it. Inbar Lavi’s portrayal of Rebecca brings warmth and grit to a role that anchors the film’s emotional core. Yan Tual rounds out the cast with a chilling turn as the Nazi officer, a reminder of the cruelty that Bau and millions of others endured.

The screenplay, written by Deborah Smerecnik, Ron Bass and Sonia Kifferstein, balances historical fidelity with dramatic tension.

Smerecnik, who spent 16 years developing the project after meeting the Baus’ two daughters, says she was drawn to Bau’s story because “it’s not just about surviving — it’s about how art and love can be acts of resistance.”

“Joseph Bau didn’t just endure the Holocaust. He defied it — with ink, with humour and with heart.”

Smerecnik recalls that there were days she couldn’t write because the subject matter was too raw and painful.

“But I kept coming back to Joseph’s drawings, his poems, his jokes,” she says of the artist, who became known as “the Walt Disney of Israel.” “He found light in the darkest places — and that’s what I wanted the film to do.”

For Winnipeg audiences, the film’s opening carries special resonance.

Joseph and Rebecca Bau’s two daughters, Clila and Hadasa, both lived in Winnipeg at different points in their lives, forging deep connections with the city. Today, they run the Joseph Bau House Museum in Tel Aviv, a vibrant tribute to their parents’ legacy.

“We were very moved,” the sisters said in an earlier interview, reflecting on a ceremony honouring their parents. “Our parents deserve it so much.”

The two are currently attempting to raise $200,000 to relocate the museum — located since 1960 in their father’s original art studio in Tel Aviv — owing to the building’s sale and impending demolition.

“My parents’ heritage will disappear if we close. We are petrified,” says Clila Bau Cohen. “Such an important story, such an important museum… you don’t have a museum like this anywhere else in the world.”

The museum, tucked away on a quiet street, is filled with Joseph’s artwork, handmade animations and personal artifacts.

“He saved people with laughter,” says Hadasa Bau, recalling that her father used a deck of hand-drawn playing cards to lift the spirits of fellow prisoners.

The film arrives at a time when conversations about historical memory, antisemitism and the power of art are more urgent than ever. Bau’s story reminds us that art is not just decoration — it is resistance. It is survival. It is a way to reclaim humanity in the face of dehumanization.

arts@freepress.mb.ca