Everybody cries during Schindler’s List. I cried in the first ten minutes. There was the world, beautifully rendered by Mr. Stephen Spielberg from my point of view - lamp light in a hotel room, a couple of ties, a passable watch, a silver band, a pile of cash - a lonesome stranger, a salesman. The next thing you know, he's in a room full of Nazis, knee deep in money but up to his neck in shit.
Schindler was a man capable of making promises, which is what the movie is all about. In his case, he keeps all his promises and ends up a hero. Regarding the movie playing in my head, I don’t know the ending yet. But I can tell you this about a room full of Nazis: don’t make any promises.
I would also point out that the loneliness he feels in his hotel room is never mitigated. I mean, whose would, considering the locale? But it’s also a lesson in the loneliness of the individual, like you, who has to face loneliness every day, even though you see all those people, like me. But what can you do, other than act like Oskar?
