Nuremberg

There is a specific, heavy silence that hangs over a room when two men are trying to outmaneuver one another's souls. It’s the kind of silence James Vanderbilt (the pen behind the obsessively detailed Zodiac) weaponizes in Nuremberg. While I watched this, my neighbor was outside power-washing his driveway, and the juxtaposition of that mundane, suburban grit against the high-stakes psychological warfare on my screen made the film feel even more grounded in the terrifying reality of history. We’ve seen the Nuremberg trials depicted before—usually as a parade of grand speeches and "guilty" verdicts—but this 2025 entry chooses a much more claustrophobic, fascinating entry point: the psychiatrist’s office.

The Butcher and the Brain

The film centers on the intellectual sparring matches between Douglas Kelley (played with a twitchy, internalized intensity by Rami Malek) and Hermann Göring. This isn't the "Gladiator" version of Russell Crowe; this is Crowe disappearing into the bloated, narcissistic, and terrifyingly charismatic husk of Hitler’s second-in-command. Crowe plays the role with a predatory intelligence that reminds me why he’s a powerhouse, leaning into the charm that Göring famously used to manipulate his captors. He treats the prison cell like a throne room, and watching Malek try to maintain medical objectivity while being lured into Göring’s web is where the film finds its pulse.

Malek, coming off a string of high-profile roles like Oppenheimer (2023) and Amsterdam (2022), is the perfect foil here. He specializes in characters who seem to be vibrating at a different frequency than everyone else. As Kelley, he isn't just evaluating if these men are fit for trial; he’s trying to find the "Nazi germ"—the specific psychological malfunction that allowed such atrocity. The tragedy of the film, and Kelley’s real-life story, is the realization that there might not be a germ at all. Sometimes, the monster is just a man who made a series of very specific, very evil choices.

A Mid-Budget Miracle in the Streaming Age

In our current era of $200 million franchise fatigue and CGI-slathered spectacles, a movie like Nuremberg feels like a bit of an outlier. It was produced for a relatively lean $11.8 million, which is essentially the catering budget for a Marvel movie. You can see every cent on the screen, not in explosions, but in the suffocatingly authentic production design. Dariusz Wolski, the cinematographer who usually paints on the massive canvases of Ridley Scott epics like Napoleon (2023), brings a sickly, desaturated palette to the proceedings. The lighting feels cold, like the sun hasn't quite reached Germany yet in the wake of the war.

I’m honestly surprised this didn't get buried deeper in a streaming algorithm. It has the DNA of a classic 90s courtroom thriller but with a post-modern cynical edge. It’s the kind of "adult drama" that the industry keeps saying is dead, yet here it is, pulling in a respectable box office for its size. It helps that the supporting cast is a "Who's Who" of guys who understand the assignment. Michael Shannon brings his trademark righteous fire to Justice Robert H. Jackson, and John Slattery (our forever Roger Sterling from Mad Men) is perfectly cast as the rigid Colonel Andrus. They provide the institutional weight that makes the private conversations between Malek and Crowe feel even more dangerous.

Why This Duel Matters Right Now

It’s easy to look at a film set in 1945 and feel a sense of safe distance, but Vanderbilt’s script doesn't allow for that. By focusing on the "fitness for trial" aspect, the movie engages with very modern conversations about accountability and the theater of justice. There’s a fascinating bit of trivia regarding the production: the script was based on Jack El-Hai's book The Nazi and the Psychiatrist, and the production leaned heavily on the actual Rorschach tests Kelley administered to the prisoners. Seeing those inkblots on screen—the literal tools of a mind-hunter—adds a layer of "true crime" grit that sets this apart from a standard history lesson.

I found myself pausing the movie halfway through just to look up the real Douglas Kelley, and the rabbit hole of his life is just as dark as the film suggests. Nuremberg manages to avoid the "instant classic" trap by not trying to be the definitive word on the trials. Instead, it’s a character study about the cost of staring into the abyss for too long. Crowe’s performance is so magnetically repulsive that you almost forget he’s a monster, and that’s exactly the point. The film forces me to sit with the discomfort of Göring’s humanity, which is a much harder thing to process than a one-dimensional villain.

Nuremberg is a sharp, disciplined reminder that the most explosive battles often happen in silence. It’s a film that trusts its audience to handle nuance, anchored by two lead performances that feel like a masterclass in contrasting styles. While the pacing slows down a bit in the second act when the legal procedural elements take over, the central psych-war remains electric. If you’re looking for a reason to believe that mid-budget, high-concept dramas can still survive in the 2020s, this is your proof. Just don't expect to feel particularly "clean" when the credits roll.