Personal details
- Birth Date: 1967-05-11
- Height: 6′ (1.83 m)
- Birth Location: Budapest, Hungary
- Professions: Actor
Géza Röhrig, born smack-dab in the heart of Budapest back in '67, isn’t your run-of-the-mill actor. The guy’s basically a chameleon—he slips into roles and just disappears. People mostly know him from “Son of Saul” (2015), which, if you haven’t seen it, is one of those films that grabs you by the collar and refuses to let go. Seriously heavy stuff, set in Auschwitz, where he plays Saul, a guy just trying to hang onto a scrap of humanity while the world’s literally falling apart around him. It’s brutal, but Röhrig’s performance? Absolutely gut-wrenching. No big theatrics, just raw, haunted eyes—kind of makes you forget he’s acting at all. Then he showed up in “To Dust” (2018), swinging in a totally different direction—dark comedy, Jewish mourning rituals, and a chemistry with Matthew Broderick that’s weirdly charming. It’s bizarre, a little bit gross at times, but oddly touching. Shows he doesn’t just stick to tragic roles; the man’s got range. And yeah, “Resistance” (2020) throws him right back into the chaos of WWII, but this time following the story of Marcel Marceau and the French resistance. Again, Röhrig isn’t hogging the screen, but when he’s there, you can’t help but watch him. He brings this quiet intensity, like he’s carrying a hundred stories in his eyes. All in all, not your standard Hollywood guy—more like an actor’s actor, if that makes sense.
referencennThe actor rolled up to the Los Angeles Film Festival, director in tow, and after the film finished, some guy from the crowd approached Röhrig with this wild offer: “Wanna meet a real former Sonderkommando?” Apparently, the guy lived just a few blocks away. Röhrig? Didn’t hesitate. Next thing, he’s chilling with Dario Gabbai—who survived Auschwitz-Birkenau after being deported there in ’44. Out of roughly 2,200 prisoners forced into the Auschwitz Sonderkommando, barely 90 to 110 made it through alive. Most of them were killed by the Nazis after a few months, just to wipe out witnesses, and then replaced with fresh arrivals. Gabbai, by the way, was believed to be the last one still alive at the time. That kind of meeting? Absolutely haunting. What are the odds, right?
God didn’t march people into camps. Wasn’t some divine hand grabbing Jews, Gypsies, Soviet POWs, the disabled, or anyone else and tossing them into gas chambers. Humans did that. Our species, our mess. And yeah, I can’t just let God off the hook either—if he’s all-powerful, why didn’t he step in sooner? Should've, honestly. But, weirdly, if I didn’t hang on to the hope that God was right there, even in those darkest moments, holding on to every single person, I don’t think I could function. Not just Jews in the Shoah—every Tutsi, Armenian, Kurd, Israeli, Palestinian, anyone chewed up by injustice. That’s what keeps me moving, believing there’s something bigger holding out a hand even when everything’s gone to hell.
May 11, 1967
6′ (1.83 m)
Konidela Ram Charan
Budapest, Hungary
58 years old