Amongst his wide body of notable quotes, Oscar Wilde once famously quipped that memory “is the diary that we all carry about with us” – it is an assemblage of all the moments in our lives that are filed away in our minds to be used when they are necessary. It is also the one concept that artists and philosophers alike have been united in exploring since it is something that tends to define each individual and their journey through life. As a result, it can be a challenging subject to define in its entirety, at least in terms of its importance – but this hasn’t prevented many terrific works of art being produced that attempt to offer some insights into this fascinating concept. Elena Brett has written some remarkable pieces of literature, some of them more autobiographical than others, but all centring on the concept of memory in one way or another. One of her most celebrated works is Too Many Men, in which she tells the story of a journalist setting out to visit Poland in the 1990s, intent on making her way through the various locations where her parents, both Holocaust survivors, spent their early lives before being sent to death camps during the Second World War. She is accompanied by her widowed father, an eccentric and effortlessly charismatic man, but whose peculiarities tend to test the protagonist’s patience, particularly because they have unresolved issues that have been simmering beneath the surface for years since her mother’s passing. For a few days, the pair are forced to be near one another, and despite their clear differences and the underlying tensions, they manage to work through their contentious relationship and find their way to better understanding one another. The novel has been adapted into Treasure, which is written and directed by Julian Von Heinz, who weaves a wonderfully endearing story about the human condition through a bitingly funny and genuinely moving dark comedy that may not always have the most consistent approach but makes up for its tonal deficiencies with the sheer amount of heart and soul present throughout the film.

At a cursory glance, Treasure is quite a conventional film and one that follows a very particular path in terms of the direction in which it moves. Brett’s original novel is only the inspiration, and the director elides a few of the thornier and more unsettling elements (such as the fact that the protagonists are being accompanied by the spirit of one of the most malicious commanders in the history of the Nazi regime) and instead presents it as a more simple story about a father and daughter going on a journey together. The decision to reconfigure quite a dense and harrowing novel into a comedy-of-errors between a fastidious, over-particular young woman and her offbeat, mischievous father as they voyage across the world into a country that means something different to both of them, and thus while they are accompanying each other on this trip, their reasons for going, and their expectations for what they’re going to find, tend to deviate quite severely. This premise is initially the foundation of a lot of the humour – it is formed as a combination of the odd couple trope, as well as being built from many very common cliches around family. The adage that “misery loves family” that we have seen referenced several times in the recent past is very much applicable here, as we follow these two individuals as they attempt to reconcile their strained relationship through several scenes in which they clash, some of them more comedic than others. However, as the film progresses, we see that the director peels away the layers of this pairing, and examines the difficult relationship between a father who tried his best to be a parent, especially after the loss of his wife, and the daughter who strives to be her independent person, but cannot hide the fact that she craves her father’s approval and affection, something that he is willing to give, just in his unorthodox manner. Treasure is often very funny, but it’s a more gentle kind of humour, one that becomes increasingly more complex as we venture further throughout the film and come to learn more about these characters and their pasts.

While it may be very entertaining and filled with some lovable humour, Treasure is a surprisingly harrowing film, with the comedy only existing as a way to soften the blow of the conversations at the heart of the film. This is a film about grief in its various forms, and the decision to focus the novel on the relationship between a father and daughter is not incidental and has an abundance of narrative importance. There are many themes that we encounter throughout this film, but primary amongst them all is that of generational trauma and collective grief, two concepts that are intrinsically tied to any film focused on exploring history’s darker and more challenging moments. The spectre of the Holocaust lingers heavily on the global culture, and this film does not dance around the subject and instead addresses it directly and without a moment’s hesitation. To circle back to the introductory discussion on memory, Treasure is a film that is centred primarily on looking at this theme in the context of a traumatic past – we find that this is a film about plumbing the depths of history to find the beauty in the most hideous and inhumane of experiences. There are not many events that are universally as condemned as being a dark moment in the history of humanity as the Holocaust, so everyone involved in this film certainly had their work cut out for them in this regard. Ultimately, the approach that is taken by both the novel and this adaptation is that memory is something to be cherished, even those that are negative since they are essential to the construction of the human soul, and the reason why survivors of traumatic incidents are often the most resilient and strong-willed people. The film follows the two protagonists as they come to terms with their identity – this return to Poland is a homecoming, both physically for the father, who is making his way back to the place he once called home, and for the daughter, who grew up far from these war-torn streets, but has always felt the magnetic pull of the past. It’s a beautiful and poignant approach, and the film manages to be quite profound in how it examines the lives of these people and how they deal with their inner quandaries, both in isolation and through a growing connection that becomes even stronger as their journey progresses.

Treasure is a film with many different components that make it work, but the overall aim was to make it a character-driven piece, a road movie centred on two individuals wandering through different landscapes, some familiar and others unknown, learning more about each other in a matter of days than they had in their entire lives before this trip. The performances are therefore vitally important, and we find that they contain some exceptional work from both leads. The idea of Lena Dunham and Stephen Fry playing a daughter and father may seem peculiar at first, but once we see the approach the film is taking, as well as their interpretations of these roles, it all begins to make sense. Dunham has gradually been moving back into acting after a brief sojourn away from the spotlight (she remained active, but was more focused on writing and directing), and Treasure contains maybe her greatest work since her vastly underappreciated masterpiece Girls, in which she was an absolute revelation. This film features the best of her talents, showing both her exceptional comedic skills, and well as her ability to do dramatic work when it is necessary. This role is perhaps the most serious she has played yet, with her character being the more level-headed and logical one of the pair. Nonetheless, she’s terrific and proves that she is as brilliant an actor as she is a writer and director. After a couple of decades where he prioritized presenting and hosting, we have likely forgotten how excellent of an actor Fry is – his sporadic acting work in mainly supporting parts over the last few years reminded us of his presence, but it’s Treasure that proves that he still has that knack for playing complex, bitingly funny characters. This part would not be easy for any actor – unlike Dunham, who essentially has to play her character on more or less the same emotional level, Fry has the challenge of taking on a part with numerous layers. Edek is a complex protagonist, a man who presents as an eccentric and lovable scoundrel, but who carries a deep trauma that becomes increasingly more obvious as this trip continues. Nearly every moment of emotional resonance is filtered through Fry’s performance, and he is undeniably the anchor of this film. It is such a wonderful reminder that he is still as strong an actor today as he was when he was still more active in delivering performances, and it might be possible that this is some of his greatest work to date, even if the film that surrounds him may be slightly uneven at some points.

As is often the case with stories about tragic moments in the past, Treasure, unfortunately, cannot avoid being overly dense and filled with potent emotions, which may stir reluctance in prospective viewers. However, it seems impossible to tell such a human story without needing to veer into slightly heavy-handed territory, since this subject matter does not lend itself to anything less. In her previous cinematic endeavours, Von Heinz has shown herself to be very aware of tone and style, and she brings a lot of it to this film, which has been described as a tragicomedy, perhaps the first sign of what we should expect from how it approaches the topic of the Holocaust and returning to the past, both physically and metaphorically. From a visual level, the film (which was filmed on location in Europe, oscillating between Germany and Poland, which is very clear in the architecture) emphasizes the bleakness of the surroundings. Anyone who has visited a city that was involved in any kind of conflict knows the trauma embedded in the buildings, streets and the people who reside within them, and while it may come across as dour and visually quite drab, this was the entire purpose. The idea of a film about the Holocaust being visually exciting seems somewhat inappropriate, and it seemed like the only appropriate method was to create a more sombre mood, which is done through several different factors. The atmosphere of Treasure is also understandably quite sad, since there may be several moments of humour, but they exist in between some truly harrowing depictions of trauma and the legacy of the war. The film simply cannot avoid being sentimental and making its emotional inventory known, since going the other direction may be more realistic, but would rob the film of its impact, which is not about being the most authentic or challenging realist drama, but rather the story of two individuals navigating their own personal trauma while trying to connect with one another by setting aside their stubborn pride. Very strong emotions abound throughout this film, but it all makes sense and becomes very valuable as time progresses and we realize what is being told, we can excuse the overwrought commentary since it is in service of something much deeper and more important than the pleasure of the audience, who are supposed to be compelled rather than comforted.

Making a film about the Holocaust is certainly not an easy task – not only does a filmmaker have to find some way to tell a story that isn’t simply retreading the facts with which we are all familiar, but doing so in a manner that contributes to the ongoing discussion, as well as honouring the people whose lives were impacted by this atrocity. Treasure is a film that takes on the challenge of exploring the burden of the past, filtering a harrowing story through dual perspectives – one a man returning home to the place where he experienced both the joys of childhood and the unspeakable horrors of war, the other his daughter, who grew up physically detached from these events, but who has carried the knowledge of the past with her, the trauma pulsing through her veins to the point where the only way to find reprieve was to directly address this generational grief through visiting the location of her family’s suffering. There are multiple layers to this film, and it is certainly true that it’s not always easy to watch – the film tries to examine the suffering and fear through dialogue and inference, rather than directly replicating the events, allowing the atmosphere to tell a story on its own, which is an admirable but difficult approach that the director deserves credit for being able to complete with such elegance and sensitivity. Anchored by two extraordinary performances from Fry and Dunham, both of whom are doing excellent work, and driven by a genuine sense of humanity that is perhaps the single most important driving factor behind this narrative, Treasure is a very special film. Its themes are presented densely and difficultly, which is perhaps the most appropriate way to address a lot of these issues, and the overall experience is genuinely quite moving, while also being deeply thought-provoking and daring. One of the year’s most tender examinations of the human condition, and a film that manages the impossible feat of finding humour in one of the darkest moments in history, it’s a poignant and meaningful achievement, and one of the year’s most important works of socially-conscious, historically-resonant storytelling.