The Aftermath

The war has physically ended, but emotionally it still rages in The Aftermath, which is destined to be an afterthought within the crowded legacy of World War II melodramas.

An intriguing premise is squandered by contrived storytelling that fails to generate much emotional depth in this unconvincing tale of romance and reconciliation.

The plot begins where many other films end, five months after V-E Day in 1945. It’s set in Hamburg, Germany, where bodies are still being pulled from the rubble following a string of bombings by Allied troops.

Morgan (Jason Clarke) is one of the British officers sent to assist the cleanup and rebuilding effort. He and his wife, Rachael (Keira Knightley) are assigned to live in a lavish home belonging to German architect Lubert (Alexander Skarsgard) — whose wife was killed in the war — and his petulant teenage daughter (Flora Thiemann).

Instead of kicking them out, Morgan allows them to stay despite Rachael’s objections. While she distrusts Lubert because of perceived Nazi connections, which he denies, Morgan questions the suspicions of the displaced German locals: “What’s wrong with this country? You don’t realize we’re here to help?”

The couple remains socially connected on the surface, but their marriage becomes strained by Morgan’s work schedule, Rachael’s isolation in the house, and confrontation of a past tragedy. Meanwhile, Rachael and Lubert search for common ground and catharsis while trying to remain isolated from the turmoil and tragedy outside their door.

The Aftermath is a mildly intriguing examination of lingering post-war hostilities that didn’t end with surrender along the front lines. Its most compelling character is Lubert, well portrayed by the versatile Skarsgard (The Legend of Tarzan) but whose backstory is never sufficiently fleshed out.

As directed by James Kent (Testament of Youth), the film’s stylish period re-creation supplements strong performances that add complexity to the central relationships.

Yet the screenplay, which is adapted from an acclaimed 2014 novel by Welsh writer Rhidian Brook, only generates a fraction of its intended poignancy in part because the authenticity of the character dynamics don’t translate adequately from page to screen.

Historical embellishments aside, given the volatility of its sociopolitical backdrop, the film feels like a missed opportunity.

Rated R, 108 minutes.