It is rare to find a movie that feels like a punch to the gut and a warm embrace at the same time. Honestly, that is exactly what the Let Me Go film—the 2017 drama directed by Polly Steele—manages to do. It isn't a blockbuster. You won't find capes or explosions here. Instead, you get a raw, sometimes uncomfortable look at what happens when the trauma of the past refuses to stay buried. Based on the true story of Helga Schneider, the film dives deep into the kind of family secrets that most people would rather leave in the attic.
Usually, when we talk about films dealing with the Holocaust, we focus on the victims. This one is different. It looks at the perpetrators and the massive, echoing ripple effects they leave on their children and grandchildren. It's about a woman named Helga who gets a letter. Her mother, Traudi, is dying. The catch? Helga hasn't seen her since 1941, when Traudi walked out on her family to join the Nazi SS.
The Brutal Reality of the Let Me Go Film
The movie stars Juliet Stevenson, who is basically a masterclass in acting every time she steps on screen. She plays Helga. When she travels to Vienna to see her mother one last time, she isn't looking for a tearful reunion. She's looking for answers. Or maybe she's looking for an apology that will never come.
It's heavy.
Jodhi May plays Helga's daughter, Beth, and Lucy Boynton plays the granddaughter, Emily. This three-generation dynamic is the engine of the movie. You see how Helga’s trauma has leaked into Beth, and how Beth is trying—and sometimes failing—to protect Emily from it. It’s that "generational trauma" everyone talks about on TikTok nowadays, but handled with way more nuance and less jargon.
The Let Me Go film doesn't give you the easy way out. It would have been so simple to make the mother, Traudi (played by Karin Bertling), a misunderstood victim of her time. The film doesn't do that. It shows her as a woman who was unrepentant. She was a guard at Birkenau. She didn't just "follow orders"; she believed in the cause. This makes the confrontation between mother and daughter incredibly jarring. You're watching Helga realize that the woman who gave birth to her is, by almost any definition, a monster.
Why the Setting Matters
The film moves between the London suburbs and the cold, austere environment of a nursing home in Vienna. This contrast is vital. London represents the life Helga built—the "normalcy" she tried to manufacture. Vienna represents the rot.
Director Polly Steele uses a lot of close-ups. You see every twitch in Stevenson's face. You see the way she recoils when her mother tries to touch her. It feels claustrophobic. It should. The movie is about being trapped by a history you didn't choose.
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I think some people find the pacing slow. It’s a slow burn. But if you rush it, you miss the small details. Like how Helga keeps her coat on for a long time when she first arrives. She doesn't want to settle in. She wants to be ready to run.
Breaking Down the Performances
Juliet Stevenson is the heart here. She manages to convey a woman who is literally vibrating with suppressed rage and grief. There is a specific scene where she has to confront the physical evidence of her mother’s past—items taken from prisoners. The way her hands shake? That's not just acting; that's a physical manifestation of a nervous system collapsing.
Then you have Karin Bertling as the mother. She is chilling. Most "villains" in movies have a moment of redemption. Traudi doesn't. She remains convinced of her righteousness until the end. It's a bold choice for a filmmaker because it leaves the audience feeling unsettled. We want closure. We want the bad person to say "I'm sorry." When they don't, what do you do with all that leftover pain?
- Helga (Juliet Stevenson): The bridge between horror and the present.
- Traudi (Karin Bertling): The unrepentant past.
- Beth (Jodhi May): The protective, yet damaged, middle child.
- Emily (Lucy Boynton): The future trying to understand the weight of the family name.
Honestly, Lucy Boynton’s performance is often overlooked. She represents the "clean slate" that isn't actually clean. She carries her mother’s and grandmother’s anxieties without fully knowing why. It’s a subtle, brilliant bit of casting.
The True Story Behind the Screenplay
The Let Me Go film isn't just a work of fiction. It’s based on Helga Schneider’s memoir. Schneider herself struggled for years with the legacy of her mother. When she eventually met her mother in the 1970s and 1990s, the reality was just as grim as depicted in the film.
There's a specific weight to movies based on memoirs. You can't just dismiss the plot as "too dramatic" because someone actually lived it. Schneider’s life was defined by that abandonment in 1941. Imagine being four years old and your mother leaves because she prefers the ideology of the Third Reich over her own child. That’s the wound at the center of this story.
Many critics pointed out that the film feels more like a play. This is true. Much of it is dialogue-heavy and set in confined rooms. But for a story about internal struggle, that works. You don't need a wide-angle lens to show someone's world falling apart.
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Facing the Ghosts of History
What does it mean to "let go"? That’s the question the movie asks. Is it even possible?
In the Let Me Go film, letting go isn't about forgiveness. That is a huge distinction. A lot of movies preach that you have to forgive to move on. This film suggests that sometimes, you just have to walk away. You have to accept that some things are broken beyond repair.
The relationship between Helga and her daughter Beth is where the hope lies. They are trying to break the cycle. It's messy. They fight. They misunderstand each other. But they are talking. That communication is the antidote to Traudi’s silence and secrets.
Critical Reception and Legacy
When it was released, it didn't break box office records. It was a quiet release. However, it found a second life on streaming platforms and in film festivals. It’s the kind of movie that teachers show in psychology or history classes.
Some reviews argued the film was "too bleak." I disagree. Life is bleak sometimes. Ignoring the dark parts of history doesn't make them go away; it just makes them grow in the shadows. The Let Me Go film shines a very bright, very harsh light into those shadows.
It’s worth noting the score by Philip Selway (of Radiohead fame). The music is haunting. It doesn't tell you how to feel; it just sits there, echoing the emptiness and the tension of the scenes. It’s minimalist and perfect for the tone Steele was aiming for.
Why You Should Watch It Now
We live in a time where people are obsessed with their lineage. Everyone is doing DNA tests and looking up their family trees. But what if you find something you hate?
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The Let Me Go film is a cautionary tale about identity. It reminds us that we are not our ancestors' mistakes, even if we carry the scars of those mistakes.
If you are looking for a lighthearted Saturday night movie, this isn't it. But if you want something that will make you think about your own family, your own secrets, and the nature of evil, then you need to see this. It’s a powerful, necessary piece of cinema that respects the audience's intelligence.
Practical Ways to Engage with the Film's Themes
If the themes of the movie resonate with you, there are several ways to explore these ideas further without getting overwhelmed by the heaviness.
- Read the Memoir: Helga Schneider's book Let Me Go provides even more context than the film. It's a harrowing read but offers a deeper look into her psyche.
- Research Generational Trauma: Look into the work of Dr. Gabor Maté or Mark Wolynn (It Didn't Start with You). They explain the science of how trauma is passed down biologically and behaviorally.
- Watch Related Cinema: Compare this to The Reader or Phoenix. Each tackles the aftermath of the war from different angles, but all deal with the theme of complicity.
- Journal Your Own History: You don't have to have a "monster" in your family tree to benefit from writing down the stories that have been passed down to you. Identify the patterns you want to keep and the ones you want to break.
The final scene of the film is powerful because it doesn't offer a "happily ever after." It offers a "now we begin." That's a much more honest way to end a story about trauma. You don't just "get over" something like this. You learn to carry it differently.
Watch the Let Me Go film for the performances, certainly. But watch it mostly for the way it refuses to lie to you. In a world of "fake news" and sanitized history, that kind of honesty is incredibly rare. It’s a film that demands your attention and deserves your respect.
Next Steps for the Viewer
To get the most out of the experience, watch the film in a quiet environment where you won't be interrupted. After the credits roll, take ten minutes to just sit with it. Avoid the urge to immediately check your phone. Think about the concept of "unrepentance" and whether you believe closure is something we get from others or something we create for ourselves. If you're watching with someone else, discuss whether Helga owed her mother anything at all. These conversations are where the real value of the film lies.