The charisma and warmth of Kingsley Ben-Adir’s face and Bob Marley’s reggae music make this film a joyful experience, even if the dialogue is hard to decipher and the plot rarely goes beyond this-happened-then-that-happened. The supporting characters are colorful and convincing, but it is the songwriting and performing that carry the day.

Disquieting, thought-provoking, beautifully filmed and acted. “Is this what it was really like?,” is only the first of many questions. How would the revelation that this was Auschwitz have hit us if we hadn’t known ahead of time, from the reviews? How did German actors feel about portraying their history as told by a British director? Why was there a black dog running through so many of the scenes? Why was the commandant vomiting at movie’s end? I don’t know how to describe, technically, the square, straight-on long shots that director Jonathan Glazer used throughout the film, but it provided visual consistency and power: you are looking at this in full, without editorial comments. (The leads’ ugly hairstyles may have prejudiced the viewer, but I think they were props to help us identify the characters.) And as with many great films of ideas, I can’t remember whether it was shot in color or black-and-white.

A Danish version of Shane, without the subtlety. There wasn’t a character, plot development or scene that offered any surprise. Mads Mikkelsen is a pleasure to watch, but he joined the class of Joaquin Phoenix and Adam Driver for fewest facial expressions in a role. I couldn’t count the number of movie cliches that piled atop each other, although it was nice to get a glimpse of 18th-century Denmark.