Man is the only animal that knows death. He is the only one who fears it, and the only one who uses it as a tool of domination.
In the grim context of a Europe devastated by World War II, Le assaggiatrici emerges as a tale of human resilience, imbued with a palpable tension between the need to survive and the constant threat of annihilation. The film immerses us in a microcosm of oppression where food, a symbol of life and hope, simultaneously becomes a means of death, creating a game of tension and ambiguity that reflects the existential condition of those trapped in a fate they did not choose.
The film, an adaptation of a novel inspired by true historical events, introduces us to young women forced into a life of apparent passivity, their daily existence undermined by perpetual uncertainty. The figure of Rosa, a woman who finds herself in a remote corner of Germany, becomes the emblem of a search for meaning in a world that has lost all ethical and human reference points. Her struggle, though small in scale, mirrors a war that transforms everything, from emotional bonds to the very conception of morality. Her existence, anchored to the hope of her husband’s return, is inevitably entwined with the cruelty of a totalitarian system that thrives on fear, deprivation, and betrayal.
Le assaggiatrici are a group of women, including Rosa, who are taken away without explanation and with no possibility of refusal for a task as dark as it is dangerous. Forced to taste the Führer’s food, they live each day with the terror of dying from a single bite. Their daily routine is dictated by nerve-wracking waits and the impossibility of refusing food, despite the looming danger. The fear of poisoning is constant, but order prevails: each bite becomes a game of Russian roulette, each plate a potential attack on their lives.
The film’s heartbeat lies in the silences and small gestures—moments that seem insignificant but are, in fact, the fertile ground where the most intimate emotions and the most significant transformations take root. The existential element is central: the women are forced to confront violence, suspended between hunger and fear, but also between the hope for a life that, unfortunately, no longer appears as an inalienable right but as a luxury reserved for a few. The psychological game that develops among Le assaggiatrici, between bonds of trust and betrayals, becomes a representation of the human condition—enslaved by circumstances and fate.
In the context of a Germany now on the brink of defeat, Edward, Rosa’s husband, is missing in Russian territories. Among the assaggiatrici, some begin to falter under the weight of reality, while others, like one woman who remains devoted to the end, see the Führer as a god to be worshipped—a messianic cult that sustains them. But among the women, there is also a disenchanted figure, an infiltrated, experienced nurse who presents herself as emancipated and rational—a voice of reason that clashes with the fervor of blind devotion.
Silvio Soldini’s work is not merely a reflection on war but becomes an exploration of the human condition in the face of the absurd. The daily choices, the need to find a balance between instinct and duty, form the real battlefield—one that defines an individual’s dignity in a historical context that has dismantled all certainties. War is not only the atrocity of battles but also the invisible war waged within oneself, where the fear of betrayal intertwines with the need for love and affection.
Within this frame, food becomes a powerful metaphor: it is both the element that sustains life and the one that can destroy it. The act of eating takes on a harrowing symbolic significance: nourishment becomes a risk, the fear of death seeps into even the most mundane gestures. And yet, despite the tension, life seems to push through the cracks of despair. The search for affection, the desire to affirm one’s existence through an act of love, clashes with the harsh reality of violence. But it is precisely in these moments that the most authentic human fragility emerges—one that cannot be erased, not even by war.
And then, there is the detail that, in a context of horror and violence, is incredibly ironic. After visiting a slaughterhouse and being disturbed by the sound of blood on his boots, the Führer supposedly decided to become a vegetarian. A paradoxical anecdote that invites reflection on empathy toward animals, seemingly inversely proportional to that toward human beings. Mysteries of anthropology!
Le assaggiatrici is not just the story of a group of women living in terror but also the depiction of a psychological universe where human resilience is measured through courage and the compromises of daily choices. In this context, food becomes a symbol not only of physical nourishment but also of emotional and moral survival. As in life, every gesture—no matter how small or seemingly insignificant—becomes an act of resistance against a system that sought to erase all traces of humanity.
Shortly before her death in 2012, a 94-year-old German woman revealed to the world a secret she had kept for a lifetime: she had been part of a group of young women forced for over two years to taste Hitler’s food while he was hidden in the Wolf’s Lair. After each meal, they had to wait an hour to ensure the food was not poisoned. Her name was Margot Wölk, the only survivor of the war. Inspired by her story, Rosella Postorino wrote her novel Le assaggiatrici, a tribute to the memory of those women and their indomitable will to survive.
There is a profound reflection on time—on how it is perceived in a distorted way during wartime. Each day seems the same as the next, yet the relentless flow of the seasons, advancing between death and rebirth, reminds us that life, though threatened by violence, is inexorably tied to the cycle of nature and memory. Thus, cinema also becomes a bearer of this contrast, creating a kind of dissonance between visual beauty and underlying horror. The images are imbued with a cold light, as if time itself were frozen in a limbo of waiting, where human existence is suspended between the desire for a future and the weight of a past that cannot be forgotten.
There is no room for superficiality in the story of the assaggiatrici, whose lives are portrayed as a delicate balance between the vulnerability of the flesh and the resilience of the spirit. Every gesture, every glance is an attempt to reclaim a dignity that war has sought to destroy. The struggle for survival is not only physical but also psychological: the women must navigate the murky waters of complicity and submission, striving to maintain a semblance of humanity in a world that seems to have lost it.
When the most sacred things are lost, when everything is threatened, man discovers that survival is an act of art.