Underneath its counterfeit Wes Anderson style and cute naiveté, Jojo Rabbit really doesn’t have anything profound to say, outside the obvious cliche of “Love conquers all” (with dancing). Its satire is pointless, in that it’s not sharp enough to pierce below surface-level and lacks any meaningful sense of purpose, and it fails to do anything substantial with its setting other than use it to say, “Boy, the Nazis were a bit much, right?”

Furthermore, the Nazis are never really vilified; they’re all somewhat lovable, and like Jojo, they’re confused and misguided. Perhaps, the point is to illustrate how even in the most despicable of things (i.e. Nazis), there’s a human being still in there underneath all the idiotic hatred; however, the way Jojo plays it makes it seem like the Nazis are nothing more than cute buffoons, which severely undercuts the atrocities countless people suffered.

The film’s characters aren’t particularly teed up too well and their motivations are vague and as soft as its satire. For instance, it never really explores why it is Jojo desires to dress up “in a funny uniform” and “be part of a club,” aside from he’s German — which when you factor in that his mother is aiding a Jewish girl, it’s hard to believe that she’d really subject her son to that, even if it’s a cover (and if it’s mandatory, that was never said). His imaginary friend is a racially inaccurate version of Hitler that gives mixed messages of positive encouragement wrapped in ill-conceived advice, which is an external visualization of Jojo’s confused internal state; however, this doesn’t really factor into the story that much and is also never used to any meaningful ends.