I’m so-so…
Krzysztof Kie‚lowski
I’m so-so
contents
Epigraph
Background
Film School
Filming in Poland
Decalog...
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I’m so-so…
Krzysztof Kie‚lowski
I’m so-so
contents
Epigraph
Background
Film School
Filming in Poland
Decalogue
Three Colours
Farewell to a Friend
Filmography
4
Film-making
6
Returning Home
12
My Family
14
PWSTiF w ¿dΩ
28
After Film School
40
Quality Cuts
48
The Word “Success”
52
A Serial of TV-Films
64
Ten Commandments
76
Liberty, Equality,
86
Paris, the 10 of June
98
Juliette Binoche
102
Interview with K.K.
104
By Krzysztof Zanussi
116
126
5
Epigraph
6
Film-making doesn't mean audiences, festivals, reviews, interviews. It means getting up every day at six o'clock in the morning. It means the cold, the rain, the mud and having to carry heavy lights. It's a nerve-racking business and, at a certain point, everything else has to come second, including your family, emotions, and private life. Of course, engine drivers, business men or bankers would say the same thing about their jobs. No doubt they'd be right, but I do my job and l'm writing about mine. Perhaps I shouldn't be doing this job any more. I'm coming to the end of something essential to a filmmaker – namely patience. I've got no patience for actors, lighting cameramen, the weather, for waiting around, for the fact that nothing turns out how l'd like it to. At the same time, I mustn't let this show. It takes a lot out of me, hiding my lack of patience from the crew. I think that the more sensitive ones know l'm not happy with this aspect of my personality. Film-making is the same all over the world: I'm given a corner on a small studio stage; there's a stray sofa there, a table, a chair. In this make-believe interior, my stern instructions sound grotesque: Silence! Camera! Action! Once again l'm tortured by the thought that l'm doing an insignificant job. A few years ago, the French newspaper Libération asked various directors why they made films. I answered at the time: 'Because I don't know how to do anything else.' It was the shortest reply and maybe that's why it got noticed. Or maybe because all of us film-makers with the faces we pull, with the money we spend on films and the amounts we earn, with our pretentions to high society, so often have the feeling of how absurd our work is. I can understand Fellini and most of the others who build streets, houses and even artificial seas in the studio: in this way not so many people get to see the shameful and insignificant job of directing. As so often happens when filming, something occurs which causes this feeling of idiocy to disappear. This time it's four young French actresses. In a chance place, in inappropriate clothes, pretending that they've got props and partners they act so beautifully that everything becomes real. They speak some fragments of dialogue, they smile or worry, and at that moment I can understand what it's all for.
7
Background
Returning Home
12
Half an hour’s wait for luggage at the air-
need an empty beer can for?’ ‘That’s your
port in Warsaw, as usual. The belt keeps
business. If you buy it, you can do what
going round and round – a cigarette butt,
you like with it.’
an umbrella, a Hotel Marriot sticker, the
My love for Poland is a bit like love in
buckle from a suitcase belt and a dean,
an old marriage where the couple know
white handkerchief. Despite the ‘No
everything about each other and are a bit
Smoking’ signs, I light up a cigarette.
bored with each other, but when one of
Four men from the luggage service have
them dies, the other follows immediate-
been sitting near by on the only four avai-
ly. I can’t imagine life without Poland. I
lable chairs. ‘Smoking’s not allowed here,
find it very hard to find a place for mys-
boss,’ one of them says. ‘But sitting doing
elf in the West, where I am now, even
nothing is?’ I ask. ‘Doing nothing in
though the conditions are wonderful; dri-
Poland is always allowed,’ another one
vers are generally considerate and people
says. They roar with laughter. One of
say ‘good morning’ in the shops. Yet
them is missing two top teeth, another is
when I think of myself in the future, I can
missing his canine teeth and another
only see myself in Poland.
tooth on the right side. The third hasn’t
I don’t feel myself to be a citizen of the
got any teeth at all, but he’s older, about
world. I still feel a Pole. In fact, everything
fifty. The fourth, about thirty, has all his
that affects Poland, affects me directly: I
teeth. I wait another twenty minutes for
don’t feel so distanced from the country
the luggage, nearly an hour all in all.
as to feel no concern. I’m no longer inte-
Since we already feel we know each other,
rested in all the political games, but I am
the luggage guys don’t say anything when
interested in Poland itself. It’s my world.
I light up another fag.
It’s the world l’ve come from and, no
There are thousands of traders in the
doubt, the world where I’ll die.
centre of Warsaw. They sell meat, towels,
When l’m away from Poland, it feels
shoes, bread or sugar from their cars par-
as if it’s only for a while, as if I’m in tran-
ked along the roads. That’s good – it’s easy
sit. Even if I’m away for a year or two, I
to buy things although it’s harder to drive
feel as if I’m only there temporarily. In
through. On the pavements are spread
other words, on going to Poland there’s a
goods from the cheapest supermarkets in
sense of returning, a sense of coming
West Berlin, ‘Bilka’ and ‘Quelle’, and
back. Everyone ought to have a place to
from Kreuzberg: chocolates, televisions,
which they return. I have a place; it’s in
fruit, everything. I come across an elder-
Poland, either in Warsaw or in Koczek in
ly man holding a beer can. ‘Empty?’ I ask.
the Mazurian lakes. Things don’t change
He nods. ‘How much?’ ‘500 zlotys.’ I think
to such an extent as to change my basic
this over. He no doubt thinks I want to
feelings. When I return to Paris, I don’t
buy the can. He encourages me: ‘I’ll give
have this sense of coming back. I come to
it to you for 400.’ I ask him: ‘What do I
Paris. But I come back to Poland.
13
My Fa m i l y
14
My father was more important to me than
to another town and Mum would work in
my mother because he died so young. But
an of fice there.
my mother was important too and she was
A great deal in life depends on who
one of the reasons, in fact, why I decided
smacked your hand at breakfast when you
to go to film school.
were a child. That is, on who your father
One of the things that spurred my
was, who your grandmother was, who
ambition happened just after I had taken
your great-grandfather was, and your
the entrance exam for the second time. I
background in general. It’s very impor-
got back home and, over the phone,
tant. And the person who slapped you at
arranged to meet my mother in Warsaw
breakfast for being naughty when you
by the escalators in Castle Square (Plac
were four, later put that first book on your
Zamkowy). She was probably counting on
bedside table or gave it to you for Christ-
my getting into film school, but I already
mas. And those books formed us – at least,
knew I had failed. She arrived at the top
they did me. They taught me something,
of the escalators and I arrived at the bot-
made me sensitive to something. The
tom. I rode up and went out. It was rai-
books I read, particularly as a child or a
ning like hell. And Mum just stood there
boy, made me what I am.
completely drenched. She was so sorry
Throughout my childhood I had bad
that I hadn’t got in the second time aro-
lungs and was in danger of getting TB. Of
und. ‘Look,’ she said, ‘maybe you’re just
course, I’d often play football or ride a
not cut out for it.’ And I don’t know
bike as all boys do, but because I was sick
whether she was crying or whether it was
I spent a lot of time sitting covered in a
the rain but I felt very sorry that she was
blanket on some balcony or veranda,
so sad. And that’s when I decided that l’d
breathing in the fresh air. So I had an
get into that film school no matter what.
enormous amount of time for reading. At
I’d prove to them that I was cut out for it,
first, when I didn’t know how, my mum
simply because she was so sad. That’s
would read to me. Then I learnt to read
when I really made the decision.
pretty quickly. I’d even read at night, by
We were quite a poor family. My fat-
the light of a small torch or candle, under
her was a civil engineer, my mother an
the beddothes. Right into the morning
office clerk. My father had tuberculosis
sometimes.
and for twelve years after the Second
Of course, the world which I inhabi-
World War he was dying of it. He’d go to
ted, the world of friends, bicycles, run-
sanatoria and since we wanted to be near
ning around, and in the winter skiing on
him – my mum, that is, and the two of us,
skis made out of planks from pickled-cab-
me and my sister – we’d follow him. He’d
bage barrels, this was the real world. But
be in a sanatorium and my mum would
equally real to me was the world of books,
work in an office in the same town. He’d
the world of all sorts of adventures. It’s
go to another sanatorium and we’d move
not true that it was only a world of Camus
15
and Dostoevsky. They were a part of it,
flying above the earth. I had dreams in
but it was also a world of cowboys and
colour. I had dreams in black and white.
Indians, Tom Sawyer and all those
These childhood dreams I remember well
heroes. It was bad literature as well as
but in a strange way. I can’t describe
good, and I read both with equal interest.
them, but when I have a similar dream
I can’t say whether I learnt more from
now – and I do sometimes have those dre-
Dostoevsky or from some third-rate Ame-
ams now, both the good and the bad ones
rican writer who wrote cowboy adventu-
– I know immediately that it’s from my
res. I don’t know. And I wouldn’t like to
childhood.
make any such classifications. I’d known
There’s something else which I think
for a long time that there was something
is more important to me. There are many
more to life than material things which
events in my life which I believe to be a
you can touch or buy in shops. Precisely
part of my life and yet I don’t really know
through reading books.
whether or not they happened to me. I think I remember these events very accurately but perhaps this is because somebody else has talked about them. In other words, I appropriate incidents from other people’s lives. I often don’t even remember who I’ve appropriated or stolen them from. I steal them and then start to believe that they happened to me. I remember several incidents like that from childhood which I know couldn’t have happened to me, yet at the same time I’m absolutely sure that they did. Nobody in my family could explain where they came from, whether they were dreams of such power that they materialized into what I thought were actual incidents, or whether somebody described similar events to me and subconsciously I stole
I’m not someone who remembers dre-
them and made them mine.
ams for long. I forget them as soon as I
For example, I remember one scene
wake up – if I’ve had any, that is. But as a
perfectly well. Not so long ago, I went ski-
child I had them like everyone else: hor-
ing with my daughter and sister. We pas-
rible dreams where I couldn’t escape or
sed through Gorczyce, a very small town
somebody was chasing me. We’ve all had
in the Regained Territories, where the
dreams like that. I also dreamt that I was
incident I remember took place in 1946 or
16
’47 when I was five or six. I was going to
scene is very enigmatically done and it’s
infant school and clearly remember wal-
not made obvious that it’s the family
king with my mum. An elephant appea-
home she’s returning to, but I don’t think
red. It passed us by and walked on. Mum
that anybody in Europe has any doubt.
claimed she’d never been with me when
But in America I noticed that people were
an elephant walked by. There’s no reason
confused. They weren’t sure that she
why, in 1946, after the war, an elephant
returns to the family home, to where her
should appear in Poland, where it was
father lives. They weren’t sure that the
hard even to get potatoes. Nevertheless, I
man who is there is
can remember the scene perfectly well
her father. And,
and I clearly remember the expression on
even if they were
the elephant’s face. I’m absolutely con-
sure, they couldn’t
vinced that I was going to school, holding
understand
my mum’s hand when an elephant wal-
she goes back.
why
ked towards us. He turned left and wal-
For us, Europe-
ked on while we went straight ahead.
ans, going back to
Nobody even paid any special attention to
the family home
it. I’m convinced that this happened alt-
represents a cer-
hough my mum claimed it never did.
tain value which
I w a s ne v er a g o o d y - go o d y o r a s w ot . I g ot go o d m a r k s b ut d i d n ’ t ma ke a n y sp e c i a l e ff o r t .
After a while, I lose control of these
exists in our traditions, in our history and
incidents which I steal and which I start
also in our culture. You can find it in the
to describe as having happened to me.
Odyssey, and literature, theatre and art
That is, I forget that they happened to
through the ages have very often taken up
somebody else and start to believe that
the subject of the family home as a place
they really happened to me. And it’s more
which constitutes a set of values. Parti-
than likely that that was the case with this
cularly for us Poles, who are very roman-
elephant. No doubt somebody had told
tic, the family home is an essential point
me about it.
in our lives. And that’s why I ended the
I realized this very dearly quite recent-
film the way I did. But I realized that
ly when I went to America. The Double
nobody understood it in America. So I
Life of V ronique was about to be relea-
suggested to the Americans that I should
sed through a regular, decent distributor
make another ending for them, to make
called Miramax. At a certain moment
it clear that it’s the family home. So that’s
during its screening at the New York Film
what I did. Later, I thought about why
Festival, I realized that the people in
Americans can’t understand this notion.
America were absolutely baffled by the
I don’t understand America.
ending of the film. There’s a scene in which V ronique returns to her family
I think we do remember a lot, only we just
home where her father is still living. The
don’t know it. Digging hard and decisi-
17
vely, digging sensitively around in our
the Germans were everywhere anyway.
memories makes the lost images and
That was where my father’s mother lived,
events come back. But you must really
and we lived with her, in a little room. She
want to remember and you have to work
knew German well but after the war she
hard.
taught Russian. It was difficult to be a
Soon after the Occupation of Poland in
German teacher in Poland then, so, since
1939, the Germans started to throw ever-
she knew both German and Russian well,
ybody out. So we left. Then, after the war,
she became a Russian teacher. I even
we lived in various places in the Regained
went to her class.
Territories including Gorczyce. They
We lived in Strzemieszyce several times
were good times for our family – when we
after that. We’d move here and there,
lived in Gorczyce – because my father was
then return to Strzemieszyce because that
still fairly healthy and working. We had a
was a place where we knew we could stay
house; a real, normal, big house. My sister
for a while. It is a terrible place. I went
and I went to school and life was pretty
there recently and found the house and
good. This house had belonged to the
yard. As always happens on such occasi-
Germans before the war and was full of
ons, everything seemed smaller, greyer
German bits and pieces. I’ve still got some
and dirtier than before.
of them: a knife, and a set of compasses.
I went to so many schools that I often get
Something is missing from the set but it
them mixed up, and don’t remember even
used to be complete. My father, who was
where I went. I would change schools
an engineer, used these compasses for his
twice or even three times a year. But I
drawings, and I inherited them. There
think I went to the second or third form,
were also a lot of German books. I’ve kept
when I was eight or nine years old, in
a German book from that house to this
Strzemieszyce. Then, later on, I went to
day. It’s called Mountains in the Sun.
the fourth or fifth form for a while when
There are photographs of skiers in it. In
I was about eleven. I did well at school
the sun.
but I was never a goody-goody or a swot.
But I don’t know where we were during
I got good marks but didn’t make any spe-
the war. And I’ll never find out. Some let-
cial effort. I think my schoolfriends quite
ters and documents do survive, but none
liked me because I let them copy from me.
of them show where we were. My sister
The level at school was simply very low at
doesn’t know either. She was born three
the time, and things came very easily to
years after me, towards the end of the war,
me. But I didn’t waste much time on lear-
in 1944. I do know where she was born, in
ning and I can’t remember anything I was
Strzemieszyce, a tiny part of Silesia which
taught then. I can’t even remember mul-
was the last part of that region to belong
tiplication tables or spelling. I’m always
to Poland before the war. But during the
making spelling mistakes. Nothing has
war that didn’t mean anything because
stayed with me, except maybe a few dates
18
from history. Looking back, I don’t think
position to keep us. Father was constant-
I gained much from school.
ly ill. Mother earned far too little. And I
I don’t remember anybody being so
think the preventoria were free. My sister
unpleasant that it upsets me to think
often went too, sometimes to the same
about it now. The children would beat me
one, sometimes to a different one. My
up, that’s true. Or rather, they wanted to
parents were terribly sad that they had to
beat me up, but somehow or other I usual-
send us there but they probably didn’t
ly managed to escape. I remember there
have any choice. They came to visit us
were times, especially in winter when l’d
whenever they could and we always loo-
be going home from somewhere in the
ked forward to their visits. Especially me.
evening, sledging or school, and l’d have
Usually it was our mother who came, of
this feeling that there was a group of boys
course, because my father was often ill in
who wanted to beat me up. I reckon it was
bed. I loved them and I think they loved
mainly because I was their teacher’s
me and my sister very much, too. We were
grandson. My grandmother probably
extremely sad that we had to part, but
used to give them bad marks and they
that’s the way things were.
wanted to beat me up in revenge. But I
We lived in such small communities
never talked to her about it so I don’t
that the Communist authorities didn’t
know whether that’s true or not. Maybe
really get to us. That is, they didn’t mani-
they beat me up because this was Upper
fest themselves as they did in the towns.
Silesia. Upper Silesia was quite particu-
The places we lived in were so small that
lar in that it was very hard to fit in there.
there wasn’t even a policeman there.
Silesians spoke a different dialect from
There were only about 600 to 1000 inha-
the one used in Warsaw. And if you tal-
bitants in these places, with a teacher, and
ked differently in Upper Silesia, you were
a bus-driver who would go to the larger
an outsider. Maybe that’s why they wan-
town once or twice a day. That’s all. Of
ted to beat me up.
course, there was the manager of the
I remember I used to go to sanatoria
sanatorium, who was probably a Party
for children which were called ‘preven-
member, but I can’t remember whether I
toria’ in Poland. They were for children
ever saw him. I haven’t even any idea
threatened with TB or who were weak.
where I was when Stalin died. It had
The whole idea was to spend time in a
nothing to do with me: I don’t even know
good climate and to have healthy food.
whether I was aware that he’d died – most
The food there was probably pretty good
probably not.
for those times. And there would always
The first film I remember seeing – but
be a couple of hours’ school in the mor-
maybe I’ve imagined it again – was in
nings.
Strzemieszyce where they showed a
The main reason why I went there was
French film with Gerard Philipe. It must
because my parents weren’t really in a
have been Fanfan la Tulipe. It was an
19
absolute sensation that a French film was
1000 people, most of whom were patients,
being shown because all films were nor-
and there were another 200 or so people
mally Czech, Russian or Polish. I must
to help with the patients. And their child-
have been seven or eight at the time and
ren.
under-sixteens were not allowed to see
There was a hall there in the House of
the film. So there was this problem – my
Culture where the travelling theatre or
parents wanted me to see the film and, of
cinema would come. The cinema came
course, I wanted to see it too. They
more or less once a week. It was a good
thought it was a beautiful film and that
hall, decently fitted out with good pro-
I’d enjoy myself. So my great-uncle, who
jectors and so on, and not some old fire
was an eminent doctor there, went to the
station. But there was a different problem
four or six o’clock screening, realized that
there; this time I was not too young to see
the film was suitable for me and, taking
the films, as they also showed films for
advantage of his authority as a doctor, sor-
children. The problem here was that I
ted things out with the director of the
didn’t have any money to buy a ticket.
cinema and they let me in. I don’t remem-
Neither did many of my friends. Our
ber anything whatsoever from the film.
parents simply couldn’t afford to give us
My parents had kept talking about it for a
any money for tickets – or if they could
few days beforehand, that they’d proba-
then it was only very rarely. So I’d climb
bly manage to get me in to see it and so
up on to the roof of the hall with my fri-
on. I was terribly excited, of course, and
ends. There was a sort of large ventilator
was quite anxious about whether they’d
there, a chimney with vents in the sides.
let me in or not. And I remember abso-
These vents were great to spit through,
lutely nothing of the film.
down at the audience. We were jealous
Then we lived in a place called Soko-
that they could go to the cinema and we
lowsko, near Jelenia Gora in Lower Sile-
couldn’t. We spat not through our love of
sia, in the Regained Territories. We lived
the cinema but our anger at the people
there about three times and that’s the
inside.
place I remember best from my child-
We would watch a tiny bit of the scre-
hood. There was a sanatorium there
en. From my usual position I’d see the
where my father stayed. It was only a
bottom left-hand corner, maybe one and
health resort really. Well, it’s actually
a half square metres. Sometimes I could
hard to call it a health resort because then
see the actor’s leg if he was standing, or
one always imagines a place like Cannes,
his hand or head if he was Iying down.
for example. This was nothing like that.
We could hear more or less, too, so we
It was a tiny place with two or three sana-
cottoned on to the action. And that’s how
toria. There weren’t any Silesians there
we watched. We’d spit and watch the
because they’d either fled or been driven
films. They’d chase us away from there,
out after the war. It was a place of about
of course, from that roof. It was very easy
20
to climb up there because Sokolowsko
the one who felt the shame and it beca-
was a hilly place and the House of Cultu-
me a great problem.
re stood right up against a hill. Its roof
My parents couldn’t afford to send me
touched the hillside, so it was easy to
away to school, because they couldn’t
climb up the hill, then up a tree and from
afford to pay for lodgings and so on. Besi-
the tree down to the roof. And that’s
des, I didn’t want to study. I thought I
where we played our childhood games, up
knew everything I needed to know, like
there on the roof.
most teenagers. That was after first
I always climbed roofs a lot. One of my
school. I must have been fourteen or fif-
friends, for example, a boy from Warsaw,
teen, and I did nothing for a year. My fat-
did nothing but climb roofs. If there was
her was a wise man. He said, ‘All right, go
any wine or vodka to drink, he’d have to
to the fireman’s training college. At least
do it up on a roof. He’d climb the highest
you’ll learn a profession and be able to
roofs with his friends. I’d climb with him,
work as you want to.’ I wanted to work.
too, and we’d always drink the wine some-
Board was free there. So was the food.
where high above the town.
And it was easy to get in. My father knew
Later on, I travelled around a lot, loo-
perfectly well that when I got back from
king for these places. I thought of mee-
that fireman’s training college l’d want to
ting up with these people but when I’d
study. He was right, of course. In three
get there the desire would pass. I’d look
months I came back, wanted to study - at
at the places and leave. I used to think it
any cost- and went to all sorts of different
would be nice to arrive, see someone I
schools.
hadn’t seen for thirty or forty years; see
Then, by chance, I got into a school in
how he looks, who he is today. It’s an ent-
Warsaw which was an arts school. That
irely different world but that’s precisely
really was pure chance. It turned out that
why it’s interesting. You talk about how
my parents had approached some distant
things are, what has happened. But then
uncle whom I hadn’t known before and
later, after I’d met a couple of friends like
who was the director of the College for
that, I didn’t want to meet any others. To
Theatre Technicians in Warsaw (Panst-
be honest, I was ashamed. I’m quite well
wowe Liceum Techniki Teatralnej). It was
off, drive a good car. And I’d arrive at pla-
a fantastic school. The best school I’ve
ces where there were slums, and see poor
ever been to. Schools like that don’t exist
children, poor people. No doubt I’ve been
any more, unfortunately. Like everything
lucky once or twice in my life and that’s
that’s good, they soon closed it down. It
all. But they haven’t, and it makes me
had excellent teachers. Teachers in
ashamed. I suspect it would make them
Poland – and in the rest of Europe, I dare
ashamed, too, if it came to a meeting. But
say – didn’t treat pupils like younger col-
since I’d initiated these reunions, I was
leagues. But here they did. They were good, too, and they were wise. They sho-
21
wed us that culture exists. They advised
was living in Warsaw, so could help her
us to read books, go to the theatre or the
a bit. Which, of course, I did.
cinema, even though it wasn’t such a fas-
My mother was sixty-seven when she
hionable thing to do then, at least not in
died in a car accident when a friend of
my world, my environment. Besides, I
mine was driving. That was in 1981. So I
couldn’t have done so because I’d always
haven’t had any parents for quite some
lived in those tiny places. Then once I saw
time now. Besides, I’m over fifty. Hardly
that such a world existed, I realized that
anybody has parents when they’re over
I could live like that, too. I hadn’t known
fifty. There are thousands of things we
this before. Well, that was pure chance.
didn’t talk about. Now I’ll never find them
If my uncle hadn’t been the director of
out. I’ve only got my sister and I can’t be
that particular school but of another, then
very close to her because I simply haven’t
I’d have attended a different school and
got the time. I haven’t been close to any-
no doubt be somewhere else today.
body recently. For the last few years I’ve
My father eventually died of TB. He
been quite alone in day-to-day life.
was forty-seven, younger than I am now.
I’ve certainly got something in com-
He had been ill for twenty years and I sus-
mon with my sister; we were always
pect he didn’t want to live any longer. He
together as children. In the sort of life we
couldn’t work, couldn’t do what he belie-
led – with those constant moves and so
ved he ought to do for his family and, no
on, and a sick father – any permanent ties
doubt, felt he hadn’t entirely fulfilled
we had were extremely important. Now,
himself in professional matters – since,
we often think about various things which
being ill, he wasn’t in any condition to do
happened in the past, but we can’t recrea-
so. He didn’t fulfil himself in emotional
te the chain of events. Those who played
matters, family matters. I didn’t talk to
the main roles in those events simply
him about it but I’m sure that’s how it was.
aren’t there any more and can’t tell us
One can feel these things. I can under-
what happened. One always thinks the-
stand it.
re’s plenty of time: that one day, when the
Later on, my mother lived in Warsaw.
opportunity arises
Life was very hard because we didn’t have
My parents were too fair with me. My
any money then – I didn’t have any eit-
father was a very wise man but I couldn’t
her, of course. It was terribly difficult to
make much use of his wisdom. It’s only
find a means of staying in Warsaw, becau-
now that I can understand some of the
se you weren’t allowed to register there.
things he did or said. I couldn’t under-
This was at the end of the 1960s and the
stand at the time; I was too foolish, too
beginning of the 1970s. Then step by step,
inconsiderate or too naive. So I don’t real-
she moved to Warsaw. Somehow she
ly talk to my daughter about important
managed to get herself registered there. I
matters, or if I do, then very rarely. I do
had already started to work in films and
talk about practical things, of course, but
22
I don’t talk to her about the really important things in life. I write her letters, because she can keep them, look back over them. When you get a letter like that it doesn’t mean much, but later on, in the future It’s essential that your father is an authority to you, and that he’s somebody you can trust. Maybe one of the real criteria of our behaviour in life is to enable our children to trust us - at least a little. That’s why we don’t disgrace ourselves completely, behave badly or shamefully. At least that’s why I behave the way I do, in most cases.
23
Film Sc hoo l
PWSTiF w flødΩ
28
At the College for Theatre Technicians,
the same inventiveness in putting on a
they showed us that there’s a world of
play, as I saw then, when I was dazzled by
values which doesn’t necessarily have to
the discovery that something like that
do with such everyday and socially accep-
could be possible.
ted values as how to settle down, how to
So obviously I decided to become a
make comfortable lives for ourselves, own
theatre director. But since you couldn’t
material goods, make money, have good
become a theatre director in Poland with-
positions. And they showed us that you
out first finishing some other form of hig-
can fulfil yourself in that other world, the
her studies – and it’s still like that now –
so-called higher world. I don’t know
I wanted to get some sort of higher edu-
whether it’s higher, but it certainly is dif-
cation. There were a lot of possibilities
ferent.
but I thought: ‘Why not study at film
Consequently, I fell totally in love with
school to become a film director, as a way
the theatre. From about 1958 to 1962 was
to becoming a theatre director?’ They’re
a great period in Polish theatre. It was a
both directors.
period of great directors, writers, actors
It’s not easy to get into Lodz Film
and designers. In 1956 plays by authors
School. As I’ve explained, I didn’t get in
from the West began to be shown in
either the first time, or the second. If you
Poland, too. This was theatre of an inter-
fail you have to wait a year before you can
nationally high standard. Of course, there
try again. In fact, it was only through
was the Iron Curtain. There was no que-
sheer ambition that I took the exams a
stion of cultural exchange as there is now.
third time, to show them that I could get
Maybe this happened sometimes in the
in. By then, I was no longer motivated
cinema, but rarely. In the theatre, it was
because in the meantime I had stopped
impossible. Nowadays, Polish theatre
liking the theatre. The beautiful period
companies travel all over the world. At
had come to an end somewhere in 1962,
that time, they didn’t travel anywhere.
and the plays were no longer as good.
They performed in their own buildings
Something had happened – I don’t know
and that was it.
what. After 1956, there’d been an explo-
I don’t see theatre of this quality
sion, no doubt, of a certain degree of poli-
anywhere nowadays. I go to the theatre in
tical freedom and this was expressed in
New York or I go to the theatre in Paris,
the theatre. This had lasted for a few
in Berlin, and even there I don’t see per-
years, then in 1961 or 1962 it simply star-
formances of such class. No doubt these
ted to peter out. I decided that I didn’t
are memories from a time when I was
want to be a theatre director at all any
young and had the feeling that I was dis-
more, or any sort of director for that mat-
covering something completely new and
ter. Even less a film director.
wonderful. Now, I don’t see the same
In the meantime, of course, I worked
standard of directors, actors, designers,
because I had to have something to live
29
on. I was grown up and couldn’t expect
foremost, shoot my officer. The whole
my mother, who didn’t have any money
thing made me aware yet again of how
anyway, to help me. I worked for a year
complicated we all are because I didn’t lie
or so as a clerk in the Department of Cul-
to the Conscription Board. I spoke the
ture at the Council in Zoliborz. I worked
truth. I simply exaggerated a little and
there for a year and wrote poetry. I also
didn’t tell the whole truth, and this pro-
worked in the theatre for a year as a dres-
ved credible.
ser. That was more interesting and was
That’s how my adventure with the
connected with my profession. But I had
army came to an end. I kept telling them
to spend most of my time studying some-
that I didn’t feel like doing anything. That
thing to get out of the army,’ so I went to
I didn’t want anything from life be it good
teachers’ training college and studied
or bad, that I didn’t expect anything.
drawing for a year. I had to pretend that
Nothing at all. I told them that sometimes
I wanted to be an art teacher.
I read books. So they asked me to descri-
I drew very badly. The others drew just
be the books. And I recounted W Pusty-
as badly as they learnt history, Polish, bio-
ni i w Puszczy, sentence by sentence, for
logy or geography at that teachers’ trai-
example. It took hours. It interested them
ning college. Everybody was bad at their
that I found all sorts of connections, such
subject. All the boys there were running
as, if the author described the end as he
away from the army and most of the girls
did, it means the hero must have met the
were from outside Warsaw and were
heroine and so on and so on.
counting on catching a husband or maybe
Exactly four days later the film school
finding a job in a school in Warsaw and
entrance exams started and I passed. It
so acquiring a residence permit. People
was quite risky because, on the one hand,
schemed like that and nobody there real-
for the ten days that I was with the Con-
ly wanted to be a teacher, which was a
scription Board, I behaved as if I didn’t
shame because it’s a fine profession.
feel like doing anything, while, on the
Anyway, I don’t think I met one single
other hand, I had to feel like doing ever-
enthusiast of teaching.
ything the moment I went to take the film
So all this time I was trying to wangle
school exams.
my way out of the army. And I succeeded
I was happy when I got in to film
in the end. I was finally placed in a cate-
school. I’d simply satisfied my ambition
gory which states that I’m unfit for mili-
to show them that I could get in – nothing
tary service even in the event of war.
else although I do believe they shouldn’t
They’re very rare, cases like that. I’ve got
have accepted me. I was a complete idiot.
papers which certify me as having schi-
I can’t understand why they took me. Pro-
zophrenia duplex which is a very dange-
bably because I’d tried three times.
rous form of schizophrenia and could
To begin with, you had to show the
mean that, given a rifle, I might, first and
examiners some work and then they gra-
30
ded you. You could show them films, or
ted. There were always a couple of can-
a script, or photographs. You could show
didates whom they thought they ought to
them a novel, or paintings if you were a
accept and, no doubt, I was in that group
painter, whatever. I showed them some
because that’s the way they treated me,
absurd short stories – absurd in the sense
and I remember
that they weren’t any good. Once, during
them asking me,
an earlier exam, I showed them a short
‘What are the mea-
film which l’d shot on 8 mm. Terrible.
nings of mass com-
Absolutely terrible. Pretentious rubbish.
munication?’ So I
If anybody had brought me anything like
said, ‘Tram, bus,
that l’d never have accepted them. They
trolley-bus,
didn’t take me then, of course. So I wrote
plane.’
a short story. Maybe it’s when I wrote the
aeroplane
story that they accepted me. I can’t
afterthought. I was
remember.
absolutely convin-
I
aeroadded as
an
They’re very long, the film school ent-
ced that was the
rance exams. It’s still like that now. They
correct answer, but
last two weeks. I always managed to get
they
through to the last stage. This was quite
thought that the
difficult because there were something
question was so silly that I’d answered
like five or six places and always about
sarcastically, not outright, because that
1000 candidates, which was a hell of a lot.
would have been below me. To answer
You had to get through to the last stage
outright and to say, the radio or televisi-
where there were about thirty to forty can-
on would have been well below me, so I
didates. Then from these, they chose five
answered derisively. And that’s probably
or six. I always got through to this stage
why I got in. But I really did think that
without any problems. But I’d never get
the means of mass communication was a
past that last stage.
trolley-bus.
probably
I w a s a co mp l et e i d i o t p re tt y na ve a n d no t v e r y bright.
I was quite well read and I was good at
They asked various things during the
history of art because that had been very
exams. For example, How does a toilet-
well taught at the PLTT, the College for
flush work? How does electricity work?
Theatre Technicians. I wasn’t bad at
Do you remember the first take of a film
history of the cinema and so on. But, to
by Orson Welles? Or, Do you remember
be honest, I was a pretty naive boy – or
the final sentence of Crime and Punish-
man, really, because I was over twenty –
ment? Why do you have to water flowers?
pretty naive and not very bright. Anyway,
They asked all sorts of things. They tried
I clearly remember what they asked me,
to work out your intelligence, your asso-
in one of those last exams – an oral which
ciation of ideas, because they were trying
was to decide whether or not I’d be accep-
to see if you could describe things. It’s
31
very easy in a film to show a toilet flus-
Fortunately, that school was well
hing, but, in actual fact, it’s quite difficult
thought out. It enabled us to make films.
to explain it. Try to describe how a toilet-
We made at least one film each year. But
flush works in whatever language - it’s not
if we were clever or a bit lucky, we could
that easy. You can gesticulate but the
make two. I always managed to make one
point is to explain why water collects,
or two films a year. That was one of the
why, when you press a button, something
school’s objectives; to enable us to enter
happens which makes all the water flush
that world, as it were, and stay there for
and then just the right amount of water
a bit. Another objective was to give us the
collects for you to be able to flush again
opportunity to make films which was the
next time. Well, you simply had to be able
practical realisation of all these discussi-
to describe it all. With the help of que-
ons.
stions like that, they examined your nar-
We had to make feature films and
rative skills, your skills of concentration,
documentaries. I made both. I think I
and your intelligence, too.
made twenty-minute features in my third
Classes at the Lodz Film School are
year. We’d sometimes base our work on
much like those at any other film school.
short stories. The films had to be short so
You learn the history of films, the history
there was no question of adapting a novel.
of aesthetics, photography, how to work
But on the whole, most of us wrote our
with actors. You learn everything, one
own scripts.
step at a time. Of course, you can’t learn
There wasn’t any particular censors-
any of these things from theory alone,
hip at the School. They showed us various
apart from the history. You simply have
films which people usually didn’t see.
to experience them for yourself. There’s
They imported films so that students
no other way.
would be educated by them and not mere-
The whole idea of the school is to ena-
ly watch them as scraps of interesting
ble you to watch films and to talk about
information or forbidden news, albeit
them, nothing else. You have to watch
political. Of course, we weren’t shown
films, and because you’re watching them
any James Bonds fighting the KGB, but
and making them, you’re always talking
we did see films which weren’t generally
about them. It doesn’t matter whether
shown in Poland or we saw them long
you talk about them during history lectu-
before they were shown. I don’t think
res, or lectures on aesthetics or even if you
there was any political censorship in their
talk about them during English classes.
choice of films. Maybe there was and I just
It’s all the same. What is important is that
didn’t know about it. They would show
the subject is always present. That you’-
us Eisenstein’s Battleship Potemkin and
re always talking about it, analysing, dis-
other good Russian films which had a rea-
cussing, comparing.
son for being interesting. The school wasn’t tinged with Communist propa-
32
ganda. It was really open-minded, and
which I had liked a lot. I made a selec-
that’s why it was so good, up until 1968.
tion. I can’t even remember them all, but
A number of films have stayed in my
I made my selection and I even went to
memory simply because they’re beautiful.
two screenings. Then I stopped going. I’d
I remember them because I always
simply understood that somewhere along
thought that I’d never be able to do any-
the way, these expectations and notions
thing like that in my life (no doubt those
which I had had of the films, which I can
are the films which always make the grea-
clearly remember, completely lost their
test impression), not due to lack of money
myth.
or because I didn’t have the means or
I remember watching Fellini’s La Stra-
technicians, but because I didn’t have
da and not being disillusioned at all. I
sufficient imagination, intelligence or
liked it just as much as before, if not more.
enough talent. I always said that I never
And then I watched a film by Bergman
wanted to be anybody’s assistant but that
called Sawdust and Tinsel and I remem-
if, for example, Ken Loach were to ask me,
ber I’d had beautiful recollections of that
then I’d willingly make him coffee. I saw
film. But I found myself watching some-
Kes at film school and I knew then that
thing on the screen which left me com-
I’d willingly make coffee for him. I didn’t
pletely indifferent, which was complete-
want to be an assistant or anything like
ly alien to me. I couldn’t understand what
that – I’d just make coffee so I could see
I’d seen in it before, apart from perhaps
how he does it all. The same applied to
three or four scenes. I didn’t experience
Orson Welles, or Fellini, and sometimes
any of the tension which I’d felt when I’d
Bergman.
watched it before. But then Bergman
There were wonderful directors once
went on to make some more beautiful
but now they’re dead or retired. It’s all in
films which still create this tension. This,
the past – the period of great film perso-
among other things, is where the magic
nalities. Watching the great films, it was-
of the screen lies: that suddenly, as an
n’t even jealousy I felt because you can
audience, you find yourself in a state of
only be jealous of something which, theo-
tension because you’re in a world shown
retically, is within your reach. You can
to you by the director. That world is so
envy that, but you can’t envy something
coherent, so comprehensive, so succinct
which is completely beyond you. There
that you’re transported into it and expe-
was nothing wrong with my feelings. On
rience tension because you sense the ten-
the contrary, they were very positive; a
sion between the characters.
certain admiration and bedazzlement that
I don’t know why this happened,
something like that is possible and that it
because these two films were made at
would always be beyond my reach.
more or less the same time. Fellini and
Once, somewhere in Holland I think
Bergman are, more or less, of the same
it was, they asked me to choose some films
period. They’re both great directors. But
33
La Strada hasn’t aged while Sawdust and
a member of the public rather than a
Tinsel has. I don’t quite know why. Of
director. It’s a completely different way of
course, you could analyse it and, no
looking at things. Of course, I watch with
doubt, might even understand the phe-
a professional eye if somebody asks me
nomenon but I don’t know whether it’s
for advice or something. Then I try to ana-
worth it. That’s philosophizing, the work
lyse the film, watch it professionally. But
of critics.
if I go to the cinema – which happens very
Andrei Tarkovsky was one of the grea-
rarely – I try to watch films like the audi-
test directors of recent years. He’s dead,
ence does. That is, I try to allow myself to
like most of them. That is, most of them
be moved, surrender to the magic, if it’s
are dead or have stopped making films.
there, on the screen, and to believe the
Or else, somewhere along the line,
story somebody’s telling. And then it’s
they’ve irretrievably lost something, some
hard to talk of influence.
individual sort of imagination, intelligen-
Basically, if a film is good, and if I like
ce or way of narrating a story. Tarkovsky
it, then I watch it far less analytically than
was certainly one of those who hadn’t lost
if I don’t like it. It’s hard to say that bad
this. Unfortunately, he died. Probably
films have an influence; it’s the good ones
because he couldn’t live any more. That’s
that influence us. And I try to watch – or
usually why people die. One can say it’s
rather, do watch – good films in the spi-
cancer or a heart attack or that the per-
rit in which they were made. I don’t try
son falls under a car, but really people
to analyse them. It was the same thing at
usually die because they can’t go on
school, too. I watched Citizen Kane a
living.
hundred times. If you insisted, I could sit
They always ask me, in interviews,
down and probably draw or describe indi-
which directors have influenced me the
vidual takes, but that’s not what was
most. I don’t know the answer to that.
important to me. What was important,
Probably so many, for all sorts of reaso-
was the fact that I took part in the film. I
ns, that there’s no logical pattern. When
experienced it.
the newspapers ask, I always say, Shake-
Nor do I think that there’s anything
speare, Dostoevsky, Kafka. They’re sur-
wrong in stealing. If somebody’s gone
prised and ask me whether these are
that way before and it’s proved to be good,
directors. ‘No,’ I say. ‘They’re writers.’
then you have to steal it immediately. If I
And that’s as if more important to me than
steal from good films, and if this later
film.
becomes part of my own world, then I
The truth is that I watched masses of
steal without qualms. This often happens
films – especially at film school – and I
completely without my being aware of it,
loved a lot of them. But can you call that
but that doesn’t mean that I don’t do it –
influence? I think that to this day, apart
it did happen but it wasn’t calculated, or
from a few exceptions, I watch films like
premeditated. It’s not straight plagiarism.
34
To put it another way, films are simply
I tried to fathom out what brought me
part of our lives. We get up in the mor-
to this point in my life, too, because with-
ning, we go to work or we don’t got to
out such an authentic, thorough and mer-
work. We go to sleep. We make love. We
ciless analysis, you can’t tell a story. If you
hate. We watch films. We talk to our fri-
don’t understand your own life, then I
ends, to our families. We experience our
don’t think you can understand the lives
children’s problems or the problems of
of the characters in your stories, you can’t
our children’s friends. And the films are
understand the lives of other people. Phi-
there somewhere, too. They also stay
losophers know this. Social workers
somewhere within us. They become part
know this. But artists ought to know this
of our own lives, of our own inner selves.
too – at least those who tell stories. Maybe
They stay with us just as much as all those
musicians don’t need such an analysis,
things which really happened. I don’t
although I believe that composers do.
think they’re any different from real
Painters maybe less so. But it’s absolute-
events, apart from the fact that they’re
ly necessary to those who tell stories
invented. But that doesn’t matter. They
about life: an authentic understanding of
stay with us. I steal takes from films, sce-
one’s own life. By authentic I mean that
nes, or solutions, just as I steal stories and
it’s not a public understanding, which I’ll
afterwards I can’t even remember where
share with anybody. It’s not for sale, and,
I stole them from.
in fact, you’ll never detect it in my films.
I keep persuading younger colleagues
Some things you can find out very easily
to whom I teach script writing or direc-
but you’ll never understand how much
ting, to examine their own lives. Not for
the films I make or the stories I tell mean
the purposes of any book or script but for
to me and why. You’ll never find that out.
themselves. I always say to them, Try to
I know it, but that knowledge is only for
think of what happened to you which was
me.
important and led to your sitting here in
I’m frightened of anybody who wants
this chair, on this very day, among these
to teach me something or who wants to
people. What happened? What really
show me a goal, me or anybody else,
brought you here? You’ve got to know
because I don’t believe you can be shown
this. That’s the starting point.
a goal if you don’t find it yourself. I’m
The years in which you don’t work on
fanatically afraid of all those people.
yourself like this are, in fact, wasted. You
That’s why I’m afraid of psychoanalysts
might feel or understand something
and psychotherapists. Of course they
intuitively and, consequently, the results
always say, We don’t show you, we help
are arbitrary. It’s only when you’ve done
you find it. I know all those arguments.
this work that you can see a certain order
Unfortunately, that’s only theory while in
in events and their effects.
practice they do show you. I know masses of people who feel wonderful after-
35
wards. But I also know a great many peo-
of young people who wanted to hold posi-
ple who feel terrible and I think that even
tions of power in the School, but they
those who feel good today won’t feel so
were advocates of experimental cinema.
good tomorrow.
That is, they cut holes in film or set up
I’m very unfashionable about such
the camera in one corner for hours on
things. I know it’s in vogue to run to all
end, filming the result, or scratched pic-
sorts of places like that, to various group
tures on to film, and so on. Totalitarian
or individual therapies with psychothera-
authorities always support movements
pists, or to seek the help of psychiatrists.
like these if the movement can destroy
I know masses of people do it. I’m afraid
another movement. And that movement
of it, that’s all. I’m just as fanatically afraid
was in a position to destroy a movement
of those therapists as I am of politicians,
at School which was based on our trying
of priests, and of teachers. I’m frightened
to see what was happening in the world,
of all those people who show you the way,
how people were living and why they
who know. Because really – and I’m dee-
weren’t living as well as they could, why
ply convinced of this, I firmly believe it –
their lives weren’t as easy as the paper
nobody really knows, with a few excepti-
described them. We were all making films
ons. Unfortunately, the actions of these
about that.
people usually end in tragedy – like the
The authorities could have closed the
Second World War or Stalinism or some-
School down but it would have looked
thing. I’m convinced that Stalin and Hit-
bad because then people would have said
ler knew exactly what they were to do.
that the authorities were destroying arti-
They knew very well. But that’s how it is.
stic freedom, so they acted far more sub-
That’s fanaticism. That’s knowing. That’s
tly. The authorities vested their interest
the feeling of absolutely knowing. And
in people who claimed to make artistic
the next minute, it’s army boots. It always
films. ‘There’s no point in filming people
ends up like that.
and their living conditions. We’re artists,
I went to a good film school. I finished there in 1968. The School used to have a
we have to make artistic films. Experimental films preferably.’
certain amount of freedom and wise tea-
I remember going back to the School
chers but then the Communists destroy-
in 1981 with Agnieszka Holland, when
ed it. They started by throwing out some
those young people were there. They
of the teachers because they were Jewish,
were being led by a former colleague of
and they ended by taking away such fre-
mine who desperately wanted to be Prin-
edom as the School enjoyed. That’s how
cipal and who spent most of his time cut-
they destroyed it.
ting holes in magnetic tape. White holes.
They tried to disguise the censorship
There was a black screen and every now
they introduced with grand words. For
and again a white hole, sometimes small,
example, at one stage there was a group
sometimes large, would flash on one side
36
or other of the screen. This was accom-
otherwise. I don’t know, maybe that’s why
panied by some sort of music. I’m not an
Polish cinema is in the state it’s in today
advocate of films like that and I don’t hide
– because they thought the way they did.
the fact that they irritate me. But that’s
Back in 1968 there was a small revolu-
not the point, because there are people
tion in Poland led by intellectuals whom
who do like films like that and holes have
nobody supported. We, at the film school,
to be made to cater for them. I’ve got abso-
believed that the papers were lying, that
lutely nothing against that provided that
Jews mustn’t be thrown out of Poland,
with the help of those holes you’re not
and that perhaps it would be a good thing
going to destroy something else.
if people who were more open and
I was Vice-President of the Polish
democratic than Gomulka’s party, were to
Film-makers’ Association at the time and
come to power. We thought that if we
this was one of the many actions which
spoke out for something which appeared
we took and in which we failed; Agniesz-
to be good or better than what had been
ka and I went to the School to try and
before – an expansion of freedom, what
explain to the students that the film
appeared to be more democratic or effec-
school was there to enable them to make
tively more common to all (because, after
films, to teach them where to set the
all, that’s what democracy boils down to,
camera up, how to work with actors, what
to that which is most common to most
films had been made to date, the basics
people) – then, even if we didn’t achieve
of dramaturgy, script structuring, how a
it, at least we’d have expressed ourselves
scene differs from a sequence, and how a
decently. Later on, it turned out that we’d
wide-angle lens differs from a telephoto
been manipulated by people who wanted
lens. At that, the students threw us out,
to gain power but who were far crueller
shouting that they didn’t want a profes-
and more cynical than Gomulka. We’d
sional school. They wanted to study yoga,
been used by Moczar and his followers.
the philosophy of the Far East and various
Twice in my life I tried my hand at poli-
schools of meditation, claiming that this
tics and twice I came out very badly. The
was very important. And that they wan-
first time was then, in 1968, when I took
ted to cut holes in film and believed that
part in a students’ strike in Lodz. That was
yoga and the art of meditation was a great
not very important; I threw stones and ran
help to them in this.
away from the militia. That’s all. And then
They simply threw us out of the school.
they interrogated me five times, maybe
This was only one of the numerous under-
ten. They wanted me to say something,
takings of our Film-makers’ Association
sign something, which I didn’t do. Nobo-
during which I realized how ineffective
dy beat me up, nobody threatened me. I
we were. Perhaps I was wrong but I per-
never even got the impression that they
sonally believe that the school is there to
wanted to arrest me. What was worse was
teach these things. But they thought
the fact that they threw people out of
37
Poland. Anti-Semitism and Polish natio-
stantly having to make compromises, of
nalism are a stain on my country which
course – that those compromises embar-
has remained to this day and I don’t think
rassed me because they weren’t my own
we’ll ever be able to get rid of it.
private ones: they were compromises
It’s only now that I realize how good it
made in the name of a number of people.
is for a country not to be ethnically pure.
This is deeply immoral because, even if
Now I know. Then I didn’t. Still, I did
you can do some good for somebody,
know that some terrible injustice was
achieve something which people need,
being perpetrated, and I knew that I
there’s always a price to be paid. Of cour-
couldn’t do anything about it, that nobo-
se, you pay with stress but it’s the others
dy could do anything about it, and that,
who really pay. There’s no other way. I
paradoxically, the more I shouted against
realized it wasn’t my world.
the authorities, the more I threw those
I keep making compromises in my own
stones, the more people would get thro-
private and professional life, as well as
wn out of the country.
artistic compromises, but I make them on
For some time afterwards, I managed
my own account. They concern my own
to avoid politics. And then I got involved
films, something which I, myself, have
in politics on a small scale as Wajda’s
imagined, and I’m the only one who bears
VicePresident, although effectively I was
the consequences. In other words, I don’t
doing the work of an acting president of
want to be responsible for anybody else.
the Polish Film-makers’ Association,
And that’s what I realized, despite the fact
which was quite important at the time.
that l’d got myself mixed up in this Asso-
That must have been from about 1976 or
ciation affair. When Solidarity came
1977 to 1980. I very quickly realized what
along, I simply asked the Association to
an unpleasant and painful trap it was to
dismiss me – I wasn’t cut out for such
be in such a position. And this, as I said,
revolutionary times.
was only politics on a small scale. But it
But going back to the subject of film
was politics. We were trying, as an Asso-
school, I was there along with Jerzy Skoli-
ciation, to fight for some sort of artistic
mowski, who was just leaving when I joi-
freedom, some sort of freedom of expres-
ned. Then when I was in my second year,
sion in films to stop them from clashing
Krzysztof Zanussi, Edek Zebrowski, and
so painfully with the censors. Nothing
Antek Krauze left. We were a good team,
came out of it. We thought we were very
my year, and got on very well together. I
important and then it turned out that we
was very good friends with Andrzej Tit-
were completely insignificant.
kow. Then I was great friends with Tomek
I had a painful feeling of having wal-
Zygadlo. Also with us were Krzys Woj-
ked into a room where I absolutely
ciechowski and Piotr Wojciechowski who
shouldn’t have gone, that the compromi-
was already a good writer then, and still
ses which I had to make – and I was con-
is. There were some foreign students, too.
38
That was my year. A very, very good year and we all liked each other very much. Andrzej Titkow wrote a play for television called Atarax (Atarax is a tranquillizer). I directed the play as part of my work in my second or third year. That was one of the advantages of the School – the possibility of practical work. It wasn’t obligatory but you could direct something if you wanted to. We were given relatively good professional conditions for those times. The machines we used are terribly old-fashioned by today’s standards, but at the time they were decent. We were given professional camera operators, electricians and sound technicians.
39
After Film School
40
It turned out that we had different tastes
invented by Janusz Kijowski, who was one
or interests. I went into documentaries as
of our colleagues. I think he meant that
quickly as I possibly could because I very
we were anxious about the moral situati-
much wanted to make documentary films,
on of people in Poland. It’s difficult for
and did make them for a good many years.
me to say what he had in mind. I always
My friends went all sorts of different ways,
hated the name, but it works.
although some of them went into docu-
These friendships were completely
mentaries, too, later on. This was the end
different from those of my documentary
of the 1960s and it wasn’t easy, at the time,
film-making days, between entirely diffe-
to get into documentaries. I don’t really
rent people. They weren’t so close,
know how I succeeded so quickly. Kazi-
perhaps, not so human, and were more
mierz Karabasz, one of my teachers, pro-
professional. I became friends with Krzy-
bably helped me. He was one of the bet-
sztof Zanussi, and then with Edek Zebro-
ter teachers and certainly had a great
wski and Agnieszka Holland. And for
influence on me at the beginning.
some time, with Andrzej Wajda, too. We
They used to call me ‘engineer’. Maybe
were all, as it were, in a group which sha-
because my father was an engineer, but I
red the feeling that we could do some-
suspect I’ve got the habit or obsession of
thing together, that we positively had to
always tidying up around myself. I keep
do something together, and that in such
drawing up various lists for everything
a group we’d have some sort of power.
and I try to put my papers into some sort
This was true considering the circum-
of order. Or they’d call me ‘orni’ or
stances in Poland at the time. A group like
‘ornithologist’, probably because of the
that was necessary. There were about six
patience I used to have when making
years of this Cinema of Moral Anxiety,
documentaries.
from 1974 to 1980.
I used to be very patient when making
However, all that came later. Soon
documentaries, of course, because the
after I finished film school, somewhere at
profession demands it but now l’m abso-
the beginning of the 1970s, several of us
lutely impatient. It’s a question of age.
thought it essential to create small pres-
When you start off, you think there’s
sure groups. We thought that we should
plenty of time, and you’re patient. Then
create a studio which would bring
you become more and more aware that
together young people, which would
there isn’t any time after all, and you don’t
serve as a bridge between school and the
want to waste time on things which aren’t
professional film world, and become a
worth it.
place from which one could really enter
Then I started making feature films
the professional world. This was because
and found myself in a slightly different
our main grievance against the organiza-
group, which later called itself the Cine-
tion of film production in Poland at that
ma of Moral Anxiety. That name was
time was that it was immensely difficult
41
to find a way into working in film from
I wasn’t by any means the most impor-
school. Later, in the mid-1970s, it beca-
tant there. The group was made up of
me a bit easier but at the beginning of the
Grzes Krolikiewicz (who, I think, had the
1970s or the end of the 1960s even, it see-
most energy), Andrzej Jurga, Krzys Woj-
med that there was no way in. So we tried
ciechowski and me. There was also a pro-
to create one.
duction manager. We wanted people
The idea came from a studio in Hun-
from all disciplines. We needed a produ-
gary called the Bela Balasz Studio. Bela
cer and a production manager to work out
Balasz was a Hungarian film theoretician,
film budgets and the studio budget.
an intelligent man who was working befo-
That’s what we were trying to attain
re and after the Second World War. Our
and we wrote various manifestos. We
studio in Poland was to be called the Irzy-
even managed to get the support of
kowski Studio. Irzykowski was very close
various important people from the film
to Bela Balasz as a film theoretician befo-
industry – Kuba Morgenstern, Andrzej
re the war. He was a serious theoretician,
Wajda, Krzysztof Zanussi, and even Jerzy
and a good one. The main point of our
Kawalerowicz, then President of the
studio was to make films cheaply. Our slo-
Filmmakers’ Association – even though
gan was ‘debut for a million’. The aver-
this was very difficult at the time becau-
age cost of a film, at the time, was six mil-
se we’d only just left school. We mana-
lion zlotys but we undertook to make first
ged to get all those people to sign papers
films for a million zlotys.
which stated that such a studio was neces-
We decided to concentrate on feature
sary, that it would be a good thing for the
films but thought it might also be possi-
film industry. But we always came up
ble to make all sorts of films for various
against a lack of goodwill on the part of –
distributors. Short documentaries were
I don’t really know who – the Ministry of
still being distributed in cinemas as sup-
Arts and Culture? Then again, the Mini-
porting programmes to feature films. We
stry probably wasn’t in a position to deci-
also thought that it might be possible to
de. It was probably the Department of
make documentaries for television. We
Culture at the Central Committee which
were looking for all sorts of ways to finan-
decided. I suspect we weren’t trustwor-
ce this studio, although, at that time,
thy enough. We were too young for them
money came from only one source, name-
to know us and none of us belonged to
ly the State Treasury. It was only a mat-
the Party.
ter of convincing those responsible for
In order to give ourselves credibility
cultural politics that such a place was
we even asked Bohdan Kosinski, the
necessary. But, to be honest, we never
documentary film-maker, to be artistic
managed to do that. We never managed
patron of the Studio. Later on, he beca-
to convince them, despite devoting sever-
me a known and very active member of
al years to it.
the opposition. But at that time he was
42
still Party Secretary at the WFD (State
Zebrowski and Andrzej Jurga. Those peo-
Documentary Film Studios). We thought
ple who were finishing the School at the
that if we gained such support from the
beginning of the 1980s were our students,
side of the Party, it would be easier. But
our younger colleagues. So that’s why I
it turned out that Kosinski, although
did have some interest in the way the stu-
Party Secretary, wasn’t so trustworthy in
dio was developing.
the eyes of the Party. He had probably
It’s always like that – that people want
already sensed something because this
something in the name of their ideals.
was, firstly, after 1968 and the anti-
They want to do something together, to
Semjtic purge in Poland, and secondly,
define themselves in some way and then,
after the invasion of Czechoslovakia by
when they get the money and a little bit
the Allied forces. I think the Party vetted
of power, they start to forget those ideals
everybody very carefully. In fact we had
and make their own films, not allowing
all been involved in the events of 1968.
anybody else in and, no doubt, that’s how
Bohdan, I suspect, was already expressing
the Irzykowski Studio ended up. They’re
his attitude to the invasion of Czechoslo-
always wrangling. The studio manage-
vakia. Even if he wasn’t doing so openly,
ment is forever changing. To be honest,
he was probably doing it clearly enough
I don’t have much faith in that studio.
at the Party forum to arouse their mistrust. After a few years, this enterprise collapsed, and the studio only came into being later on, in 1980, during the period of Solidarity. Other young people created the studio under the leadership of Janusz Kijowski, and it’s still functioning to this day. I’ve no idea how it’s getting on because, to be honest, I’m not interested any more. I wanted to create this studio for people of my own generation but later it was the new generation who needed it. We didn’t need it any more; we’d already made our way into the film industry. I was interested in the new studio for a while because there were students there from the Katowice Film School, which had been founded in 1977, I think, and where I taught for three or four years, together with Krzysztof Zanussi, Edek
43
Filming in Po l a n d
Q uality Cu t s
48
Essentially, censorship lay in ourselves –
ligent and precise. He liked the film and
the writers, directors and dramatists.
spoke about it briefly, and I saw that he
That was where we sensed it most. And
had understood everything, even the
in the officials who were professionally
most subtle, hidden levels of human emo-
engaged in ‘minding’ us, disrupting our
tion. But I realised that he hadn’t called
work and, at times, helping us too. They
me in to flatter me. He wanted to cut. It
weren’t exclusively concerned with dis-
was the scene where the hero, a former
ruption. It wasn’t like that. There were
prisoner (played beautifully by Jurek
those who wanted to help, and did. Para-
Stuhr) meets his fellow pnson inmates on
doxically, people engaged in cultural cen-
a building site. They are working there
sorship have an interest in maintaining a
and so is he, as a free man.
culture of quality because their own role
The vice-chairman said that the scene
depends on its existence. Without cultu-
had to be cut because an international
re, censorship loses its raison d’ tre.
convention makes it illegal for prisoners
Of course, there was a time when I was
to work on a building site. ‘ok,’ I said, ‘but
fearful. ‘Fear’ is such a mild word. I never
take a look through that window.’ (I had
felt that cinema was the most important
noted a little scene outside the television
part of my life. I still don’t. But it’s my
building as I was going in.)
profession, so the anxiety is there – that I
“Take a look at the tramlines,” I said, “and
won’t be able to make the next film, that
tell me what you see.”
it will be ill – received or released down
He walked up to the window, because he
a blind alley. There was a time when we
was polite, and said: “I can see people at
feared to expose ourselves and stick out
work.”
our necks, even as we constantly did so.
“Take a closer look,” I said.
We tried to reach out to the limit, to find
“Prisoners,” he said.
the sharp end of the blade. We played
“So it’s not true that prisoners don’t work
games with censorship, while fearing at
outside in the street. You can see them.”
the same time that we’d lose and be una-
“Which is the very reason why the scene
ble to make something later on.
must go. In Poland prisoners are not per-
I once did a film for television called
mitted to work in public places: intema-
Spokoj (Calm) of which I was very fond,
tional law forbids it.”
and still am, even though I changed it as
“But they do, you can see them through
a result of intervention from the censor.
the window.”
State television had a particularly cun-
“Of course I can. That’s why you’ve got
ning – almost diabolical – figure of a vice-
to cut the scene.”
chairman at the time. He summoned me
So, of course, I did. I cut a great deal
to see him, so I went. It was quite clear
from my films – when I thought that the
what he wanted. I knew that he intended
cuts wouldn’t spoil the essence of the
to cut. He was very charming, very intel-
film. In some cases I refused and the films
49
weren’t shown. Spokoj was never shown in any case. In the 1970s, the era of the “cinema of moral anxiety” – a phrase I detest – filmmakers and viewers communicated over the heads of the censors. We were forced to find dramatic and intellectual resolutions which we thought viewers would understand and the censors wouldn’t. And it turned out that this world shown in microcosm was being seen by viewers as a generalised picture of life in Poland. We functioned in this way because we felt that it was our task to depict the world, the real world which wasn’t being shown on the screen at that time – because the censors, the Party, the government, the echelons of power (call them what you will) didn’t want it, because the world wasn’t what it should be. Why did they devise censorship? To show a world which doesn’t exist, an ideal world, or what they envisaged as the ideal world. We wanted to depict the world as it was.
E d it e d e x c er p t s f r om “T r e n n a sm i e r e c e n zo r a ” (L a m e n t o n t h e d e a t h o f a c e n so r ) , p u bl i sh ed i n R e zy s er , c o- pu b li s h e d w i t h K i no I I/ 1 9 9 2 , t r a n s la t ed b y I r e n a M a r y n i a k
50
51
The Word “S ucce ss”
52
I haven’t backed out of filming in Poland.
us. That’s what makes human nature. If
I still film there. Of course co-production
you’ve got an easy life then there’s no rea-
is something different; it offers me better
son for you to care about anybody else. I
conditions.
think that in order really to care about
I don’t like the word ‘success’, and I
yourself, and particularly somebody else,
always fiercely defend myself against it,
you’ve got to experience suffering and
because I don’t know what the word
really understand what it is to suffer, so
means at all. For me, success means attai-
that you hurt and understand what it is to
ning something I’d really like. That’s suc-
hurt. Because if you don’t understand
cess. And what I’d really like is probably
what pain is, you won’t understand what
unattainable, so I don’t look at things in
it is not to be in pain and you won’t appre-
these terms. Of course, the recognition I
ciate this lack of pain.
have won, to a certain or even large extent,
I’ll never tell you about the time I suf-
satisfies an ambition which every film-
fered most; nor will I tell anybody. It’s
maker has. I’m certainly ambitious and no
what’s most painful and most hidden. So,
doubt I behave the way I do through
first of all, I don’t talk about it and,
ambition. There’s absolutely no doubt
secondly, I very rarely admit it to myself,
about that. But that’s got nothing to do
although it probably does emerge some-
with success. That’s very far from success.
where. No doubt, it comes out somewhe-
On the one hand, my ambition’s satis-
re and you could find it, if you really wan-
fied. Yet, on the other hand, recognition
ted to.
only helps you to satisfy ambition becau-
Of course I feel I’m running away but
se it’ll never be completely satisfied. You
that doesn’t bother me. Sometimes, if you
can’t ever completely satisfy ambition.
want to survive, you have to run away. I
The more ambitious you are, the more
think I escaped from the Polish situation
impossible it is to satisfy your ambition.
too late. I think that I allowed myself to
Recognition makes certain things easier
be needlessly taken in yet again in 1980.
which is very good in resolving everyday
I needlessly suffered yet another blow. I
matters. Obviously it’s better if you can
should have realized and run away much
find money easily rather than if you have
sooner. Unfortunately, I was too foolish.
to fight for it. The same goes for actors or
Generally speaking, you run away from
anything else you might think of. But, at
yourself, or from what you think you are.
the same time, I’m not sure that making
It hasn’t caused me any problems, to be
things easier is a good thing in itself. I’m
honest. Isolation hasn’t caused me any
not sure whether it isn’t better if things
problems either because, like everybody
are difficult. I’m not sure if it’s not better
else, I think I’m the one who’s right and
to suffer than not to suffer. I think it’s
not everybody else, whatever their reaso-
sometimes better to suffer. Everybody
ns. And to this day I’m convinced I was
ought to go through it. That’s what makes
right. The only thing I did wrong and
53
foolishly, was to have turned away from it
doubt, one day I’ll direct somebody else’s
all so late. But that’s the way it was meant
script because it’ll be much better than
to be, no doubt.
my own, and far more beautiful and cle-
There are many reasons why America
ver. But I’ll certainly never give up edit-
doesn’t attract me. First, I don’t like Ame-
ing. So I can’t go to America for that rea-
rica. It’s too big. There are too many peo-
son either. Of course, I can’t go to
ple. Everybody runs around too quickly.
America because they don’t allow ciga-
There’s too much commotion, too much
rettes, so there certainly are enough rea-
uproar. Everybody pretends too hard that
sons for my not being attracted to Ame-
they’re happy there. But I don’t believe
rica.
in their happiness, I think they’re just as
I’m afraid of America. Whenever I’m
unhappy as we are, except that we still talk
in New York I always have the feeling that
about it sometimes but they only say that
it’s going to cave in and all I can think
everything’s fine, that it’s fantastic. It gets
about is how to avoid being there when
on my nerves on a day-to-day basis, and
that happens. The same goes for other
unfortunately directing is life on a day-to-
places in America. You don’t get all those
day basis. You have to spend half a year
people and all that noise in the streets of
in a place, in a country, in order to do
California as you do in New York but, in
something. And if I were to be confron-
turn, there’s a huge number of cars going
ted for a whole year with people saying
to and fro and I always have serious
that everything’s fantastic then I simply
doubts as to whether there are any Ame-
couldn’t stand it.
ricans inside. You know, who’s inside?
When Americans asked me ‘How are
I’ve always got the impression that those
you?’, I said ‘So-so.’ They probably
cars drive themselves. So I’m simply
thought somebody in my family had died.
frightened of that country, and I always
But I simply had jet lag because I’d been
have the feeling that I’m on the defensi-
flying for seven hours and didn’t feel par-
ve when I arrive there. I’ve even been to
ticularly well. But it was enough for me to
small provincial places there and I’m still
say ‘So-so’ and they immediately thought
frightened and always escape. I close mys-
that something tragic had happened. You
elf in. I simply run away to my hotel, and
can’t say ‘So-so’. You have to say ‘Well’
usually sleep, if I manage to get to sleep,
or ‘Very well’. The most optimistic thing
that is – I don’t fall asleep as easily as I
I can say is ‘I’m still alive.’ So I’m not cut
used to. But if I manage to fall asleep,
out for America for that reason. Second,
that’s what I do.
they don’t allow directors into the cut-
I had this adventure. It was silly real-
ting-room – at least not in the big studi-
ly. I was hurrying to some screening. I
os. The director directs the film; that’s his
think it was the first screening I had at the
job. There, one person writes the script,
New York Festival. No End, I think it was,
another directs and yet another edits. No
in 1984 or 1985. I was in a terrible hurry.
54
I got into a taxi. It was raining. The taxi-
him, robbed him, killed him or some-
driver hit a cyclist. My journey took me
thing. I ran like hell because, on top of
through Central Park. It’s like Hyde Park
that, it was raining and I wanted to save
in London where the roads cut across
my suit from becoming soaked before I
except that in Hyde Park everything is on
reached the Lincoln Center. So I pelted
one level while in Central Park the roads
along. I saw the taxis coming to a halt in
are lower down, not in a tunnel but a sort
the opposite direction, and they started
of gully. Well, that’s where my taxi-driver
signalling. Guys jumped out of the taxis.
knocked over a cyclist. It was dusk alrea-
I simply started to run away, I started to
dy or even dark. No, it was dusk. Raining.
run away from them, not to the Lincoln
And he simply hit him. The cyclist jum-
Center any more but away from them. I
ped off and fell and the taxi-driver ran
started to climb up the sides of the gully,
over the bike. He simply ran over the bike.
jumped into the park but it turned out
The road’s narrow there; that is, one line
that there were taxi-drivers standing in
of cars can go in one direction and one
front of the gully, too, and they’d also
line in the other, no more. The cars there
noticed a taxi and this guy running away.
are terribly big and wide so maybe two
So they simply started chasing me
French cars would fit but only one Ame-
through Central Park with these great big
rican. Well, when he knocked over the
baseball bats. You know, those huge, long
cyclist, he stopped, and got out. We star-
sticks. You get it with one of those and
ted to help the cyclist up. I also helped,
your skull’s cracked open. And I saw the
because he was Iying there with his leg
guys waving these sticks above the cars
bleeding.
started
and chasing me across Central Park in
beeping. An enormous river of cars had
their cars. I barely escaped. The trees
stopped behind us. A gigantic traffic jam,
were pretty dense there and they couldn’t
a couple of miles long, had formed. And
get through with their cars; that’s the only
they started to beep their horns and flash
reason why I escaped. Covered in mud, I
their lights and shout and beep and so on
went and explained at the Lincoln Cen-
and so on.
ter why I was late – I was five or ten minu-
Well,
car
horns
Since it was literally five minutes befo-
tes late. But that’s not why I don’t like
re the time I was to appear at the Lincoln
America. That was just an amusing adven-
Center, I gave the guy what I owed him,
ture.
five or six dollars, I can’t remember exac-
That’s what comedy’s about, I reckon.
tly how much, and I started to run. You
You have to put the character in a situa-
can guess what the taxi-drivers coming up
tion which wouldn’t be funny if you were
in the opposite direction thought. A taxi’s
in it yourself, but when you look at it from
standing and some guy is running away
the outside, it’s terribly funny. I don’t
from it. Of course they thought that l’d
make comedies like the ones which used
done something to the driver. Mugged
to be made with comedians such as de
55
Funes, for example, but I have made a
Studios (WFD) proposing between twen-
comic film.
ty or thirty hours of interviews with
There are many films I regret not
Gomulka, Cyrankiewicz, Moczar. And I
having made. The films simply didn’t get
must say that the Studios even started
made for various reasons. I had various
making moves in that direction and pro-
ideas or scripts, for example, which I
bably managed to get hold of some of
never realized. There are a lot of docu-
these people, but they didn’t get an agre-
mentaries which I wanted to make but
ement. That was in the mid 1970s, after
didn’t, but that’s not true of full-length
Workers’71. I thought that something
features. Maybe there is one I didn’t
really had to be recorded on film about
make; however, I’ve made all the ones I’ve
these people. Just talking heads, nothing
written. I don’t have any drawer full of
else. Not to do anything else at all. I even
scripts which I dream of making but
proposed that we make the film and hide
haven’t been able to make for various rea-
it in the archives without showing it to
sons. I don’t have any scripts which I
anybody. Simply keep it in the archives
wrote and never made; except one that
as a historical document. I suspect those
was written fifteen years ago.
people might have said something, some
At one stage, for example, I wanted to
truth, if I’d have been clever.
make a film with Jacek Kaczmarski,I who
There were many documentaries
sang beautiful songs. He once played a
which I didn’t make. I managed to put a
very small role in Blind Chance. I once
few of them into Camera Buff. The film
thought that he was somebody who
buff makes them as amateur films. A
should have a film written for him; that
documentary about pavements, or about
is, a role written for him. He had so much
a dwarf. Filip makes them.
energy, so much strength; there was so
I think that I made a few films com-
much truth in the way he behaved, yet so
pletely unnecessarily, both documenta-
much discretion, too. A film should abso-
ries and full features. I don’t know why I
lutely have been written for him, but I
made them any more. One such film is
didn’t write it. To be honest, I couldn’t
The Scar. I think I must have made it
write it because he left the country and
because I wanted to make a film. That’s
never came back. Now he’s an elderly
the greatest sin a director can commit; to
gentleman, not the Jacek Kaczmarski
make a film simply because he wants to
he’d once been.
make a film. You have to want to make a
One of the documentaries I wanted to
film for other reasons – to say something,
film – and I think if I had done, it would
to tell a story, to show somebody’s fate –
be very useful now – was of various long
but you can’t want to make a film simply
talks with politicians who have since died;
for the sake of it. I think that was my big-
with Communists, that is. I submitted the
gest mistake – that I made films I no lon-
subject to the State Documentary Film
ger know why I made. While I was making
56
them I told myself I knew why but I don’t
they make the best, or some of the best,
think I really believed that. I made them
films in the world anyway, also on the spi-
simply for the sake of making them. Ano-
ritual level. But I reckon that this realm
ther such completely unnecessary film
of higher needs, of something more than
was Short Working Day. I’ve absolutely
just forgetting about everyday life, of
no idea why I made it. I made a lot of
mere recreation, this realm of needs has
unnecessary documentaries, too.
been clearly neglected by us. So the
Another mistake was that I realized too
public’s turned away from us because
late that I had to move as far away from
they don’t feel we’re taking care of them.
the world of politics as possible. As far
Maybe these needs are disappearing. But
away as possible so that there’s no sign of
I willingly take part of the blame myself
it even in the background of my films. Of
as director.
course, you could, no doubt, call my going
I don’t know whether I’ve ever wat-
to film school the biggest mistake I ever
ched a film I’ve made. I once went in to a
made.
screening for a moment during some fest-
The film industry is in a bad conditi-
ival, in Holland I think it was. But that
on the whole world over. It’s very nice to
was for just a few minutes when I went in
celebrate a silver wedding but it’s good
to see whether Personnel had aged. I
only if the married couple feel well, still
decided it had aged a bit and left. I never
love each other, want to kiss or go to bed
watched any film of mine after that.
with each other, but it’s bad if the couple
The audiences I like most are those
have had just about as much as they can
who say that the film’s about them, or
take and aren’t interested in each other
those who say that it meant something to
any more. And that is more or less what’s
them, those for whom the film has chan-
happened with the film industry; the
ged something. I met a woman in a stre-
industry’s not interested in the public and
et in Berlin who recognized me because
the public, in turn, is less and less inte-
“A Short Film about Love” was being
rested in film.
publicized at the time. This woman reco-
But it has to be said, we don’t give the
gnized me and started crying. She was
public much of a chance. Apart from the
fifty. She thanked me profusely because
Americans, of course. They care for the
she had had a conflict with her daughter
public’s interests because they care about
for a good many years; they weren’t tal-
their wallets; so that’s a different sort of
king to each other although they were
caring really. What I’m thinking of is
sharing a flat. The daughter was nineteen
caring also for the audience’s spiritual
at the time. The woman told me that she
life. Maybe that’s too strong a word but
and her daughter hadn’t spoken for five
something which is a little more than just
or six years, apart from informing each
box-office. The Americans take excellent
other about where the keys were or that
care of the box-office. And while doing so
there was no butter or what time they’d
57
be home. The previous day, they’d been
been to see V ronique. She’d gone once,
to see my film and the daughter kissed her
twice, three times and only wanted to say
mother for the first time in five or six
one thing really – that she realized that
years. No doubt they’ll quarrel tomorrow
there is such a thing as a soul. She had-
again and in two days’ time this’ll mean
n’t known before, but now she knew that
nothing to them; but if they felt better for
the soul does exist. There’s something
five minutes – or at least the older woman
very beautiful in that. It was worth making
felt better – then that’s enough. It’s worth
V ronique for that girl. It was worth wor-
making the film for those five minutes. The daughter had probably been in conflict with her mother for some reason and that reason lurked somewhere in the contents of A Short Film about Love. And when they saw the film together, the daughter or older woman probably understood what had been the real reason for the conflict, and the daughter kissed her mother. It was worth making the film for that kiss, for that one woman. Many people, after seeing A Short Film about Killing, asked me: ‘How do you know that that’s what it’s like?’ Similarly, I got a lot of letters after Camera Buff from people asking, ‘How do you know what it’s like to be a film buff? It’s a film about me. You made a film about me.’ Or, ‘You’ve plagiarized my life. Where do you know me from?’ I got a lot of letters like that, after many of my films. The same thing happened after A Short Film about Love. I got a letter from a boy who claims that the film’s taken from his life. There’s something very pleasant when you make something without really knowing exactly how it’ll go – because you never really know – and then it turns out that you’ve hit on somebody’s fate. Or take this girl, for example. At a meeting just outside Paris, a fifteen-year-old girl came up to me and said that she’d
58
king for a year, sacrificing all that money, energy, time, patience, torturing yourself, killing yourself, taking thousands of decisions, so that one young girl in Paris should realize that there is such a thing as a soul. It’s worth it. These are the best viewers. There aren’t many of them but perhaps there are a few.
59
D e c a log u e
A Serial of TV- Film s
64
While all this was going on, I happened to
films based on each of the Commandments?
bump into my coscriptwriter in the street. He’s
This concept seemed closest to the idea of the
a lawyer, roams around, hasn’t got much to
Ten propositions, ten one-hour films. At this
do. Maybe he’s got time for thinking. It’s true
stage, it was a question of writing the scre-
that he has had a bit to do over the last few
enplays – I wasn’t thinking about directing
years because we had martial law and he took
yet. One of the reasons for starting work was
part in quite a few political trials in Poland.
the fact that for several years I’d been depu-
But martial law finished sooner than we’d all
ty to Krzysztof Zanussi, artistic head of the Tor
expected. And one day I bumped into him. It
Production House. Zanussi was working lar-
was cold. It was raining. I’d lost one of my
gely abroad so he made general decisions
gloves. ‘Someone should make a film about
while the day-to-day running of the Produc-
the Ten Commandments,’ Piesiewicz said to
tion House was left to me. One of the func-
me. ‘You should do it.’ A terrible idea, of cour-
tions of the Production House is to help young
se.
directors make their first films. I knew a lot Krzysztof Piesiewicz and I spend hours on
of directors like that who deserved a break
end talking about our friends, our wives, our
and I knew how difficult it was to find the
children, our skis, our cars. But we keep going
money. For a long time in Poland television
back to what would be useful for the story
has been the natural home for directorial
we’re inventing. It’s very often Krzysztof who
debuts – TV films are shorter and cheaper, so
has the basic ideas; ones which, in fact, look
less risk is involved. The difficulty lay in the
as if they can’t be filmed. And I defend mys-
fact that Television wasn’t interested in one-
elf against them of course.
off films. It wanted serials and, if pushed,
Chaos and disorder ruled Poland in the
agreed to cycles. So I thought that if we wrote
mid-1980s – everywhere, everything, prac-
ten screenplays and presented them as Deca-
tically everybody’s life. Tension, a feeling of
logue, ten young directors would be able to
hopelessness, and a fear of yet worse to come
make their first film. For a while, this idea
were obvious. I’d already started to travel
motivated our writing. It was only much later,
abroad a bit by this time and observed a gene-
when the first versions of the screenplays
ral uncertainty in the world at large. I’m not
were ready, that I realized rather selfishly
even thinking about politics here but about
that I didn’t want to hand them over to any-
ordinary, everyday life. I sensed mutual indif-
body else. I had grown to like some of them
ference behind polite smiles and had the over-
and would have been sorry to let them go. I
whelming impression that, more and more
wanted to direct the films and it became
frequently, I was watching people who didn’t
obvious that I would do all ten.
really know why they were living. So I thought
We knew from the very beginning that the
Piesiewicz was right but filming the Ten Com-
films would be contemporary. For a while, we
mandments would be a very difficult task.
considered setting them in the world of poli-
Should it be one film? Several? Or maybe ten? A serial, or rather cycle of ten separate
tics but, by the mid-1980s, politics had ceased to interest us.
65
During martial law, I realized that politics
above us and there’s nothing we can do about
aren’t really important. In a way, of course,
it. Piesiewicz and I didn’t believe that politics
they define where we are and what we’re allo-
could change the world, let alone for the
wed or aren’t allowed to do, but they don’t
beKer. Also, we’d begun to suspect intuitive-
solve the really important human questions.
ly that Decalogue could be marketed abroad.
They’re not in a position to do anything about
So we decided to leave politics out.
or to answer any of our essential, fundamen-
Since life in Poland is hard – intolerable,
tal, human and humanistic questions. In fact,
in fact – I had to show a bit of this in the films.
it doesn’t matter whether you live in a Com-
However, I did spare the viewers many very
munist country or a prosperous capitalist one
unpleasant things which happen in daily life.
as far as such questions are concerned, que-
First, I saved them from anything as horrible
stions like, What is the true meaning of life?
as politics. Second, I didn’t show queues in
Why get up in the morning? Politics don’t
front of shops. Third, I didn’t show such a
answer that.
thing as a ration card – although many goods
Even when my films were about people
were being rationed then. And fourth, I didn’t
involved in politics, I always tried to find out
show boring and dreadful traditions. I tried to
what sort of people they were. The political
show individuals in difficult situations. Ever-
environment only formed a background. Even
ything pertaining to social hardships or life’s
the short documentary films were always
difficulties in general was always somewhe-
about people, about what they’re like. They
re in the background.
weren’t political films. Politics were never the
Decalogue is an attempt to narrate ten
subject. Even when, in Camera Buff, a man
stories about ten or twenty individuals, who
appears who represents the so-called other
– caught in a struggle precisely because of
side, that is, the factory director who cuts out
these and not other circumstances, circum-
some scenes from the main character’s film,
stances which are fictitious but which could
he’s also a human being. He isn’t merely a
occur in every life – suddenly realize that
representative of dull-witted bureaucrats
they’re going round and round in circles, that
who cut scenes out of films. He’s also a man
they’re not achieving what they want. We’ve
who’s trying to explain why he intervenes. He
become too egotistic, too much in love with
is just like the censor in Warsaw who used to
ourselves and our needs, and it’s as if ever-
cut various bits out of my films. Through
ybody else has somehow disappeared into the
Camera Buff, I wanted to observe him and find
background. We do a lot for our loved ones –
out what lies behind his actions. Is he only
supposedly – but when we look back over our
dull-wittedly carrying out decisions? Is he
day, we see that although we’ve done ever-
aiming for a more comfortable life? Or maybe
ything for them, we haven’t got the strength
he’s got reasons which I may not agree with
or time left to take them in our arms, simply
but which are nevertheless reasons.
to have a kind word for them or say some-
I’m sick of Polish realities because ever-
thing tender. We haven’t got any time left for
ything’s running its course in spite of us,
feelings, and I think that’s where the real pro-
66
blem lies. Or time for passion, which is close-
on the inside and remain alone with themsel-
ly tied up with feelings. Our lives slip away,
ves.
through our fingers. I believe everybody’s life is worthy of scru-
I think that all people – and this is irrespective of the political system – have two
tiny, has its secrets and dramas. People don’t
faces. They wear one
talk about their lives because they’re embar-
face in the street, at
rassed. They don’t want to open old wounds,
work, in the cinema,
or are afraid of appearing old-fashioned and
in the bus or car. In
sentimental. So we wanted to begin each film
the West, that’s the
in a way which suggested that the main cha-
face of someone who
racter had been picked by the camera as if at
is energetic, the face
random. We thought of a huge stadium in
of someone who’s
which, from among the hundred thousand
successful or will be
faces, we’d focus on one in particular. We also
successful in the near
had an idea that the camera should pick
future.
somebody out from a crowded street and then
appropriate face to
follow him or her throughout the rest of the
wear on the outside,
film. In the end we decided to locate the
and the appropriate
action in a large housing estate, with thou-
face for strangers.
sands of similar windows framed in the esta-
That’s
the
I think integrity is
K r zy s zt o f P i e s i ew i c z d o e sn ’ t k n o w h o w to w r i t e . B u t h e c a n t al k . H e c a n t a l k a n d no t o n l y ca n he t a l k bu t h e ca n t h i n k .
blishing shot. It’s the most beautiful housing
an extremely complicated combination and
estate in Warsaw, which is why I chose it. It
we can never ultimately say ‘I was honest’ or
looks pretty awful so you can imagine what
‘I wasn’t honest’. In all our actions and all the
the others are like. The fact that the charac-
different situations in which we find oursel-
ters all live on one estate brings them
ves, we find ourselves in a position from
together. Sometimes they meet, and say, ‘May
which there’s really no way out – and even if
I borrow a cup of sugar?’
there is, it’s not a better way out, a good way
Basically, my characters behave much as
out, it’s only relatively better than the other
in other films, except that in Decalogue I pro-
options, or, to put it another way, the lesser
bably concentrated more on what’s going on
evil. This, of course, defines integrity. One
inside them rather than what’s happening on
would like to be ultimately honest, but one
the outside. Before, I often used to deal with
can’t. With all the decisions you make every
the surrounding world, with what’s hap-
day, you can never be ultimately honest.
pening all around, how external circum-
A lot of people who have seemingly been
stances and events influence people, and how
the cause of a great deal of evil state that
people eventually influence external events.
they were honest or couldn’t have acted any
Now, in my work, I’ve thrown aside this exter-
other way. This is another trap, although what
nal world and, more and more frequently, deal
they say might be true. It’s definitely like that
with people who come home, lock the door
in politics, although that’s no justification. If
67
you work in politics, or in any other public
me, who are weak, who are looking for some-
sphere, you’re publicly responsible. It can’t be
thing, who don’t know.
helped. You’re always watched by others – if
The concept of sin is tied up with this
not in the newspapers then by your neigh-
abstract, ultimate authority which we often
bours, family, loved ones, friends, acquain-
call God. But I think that there’s also a sense
tances or even by strangers in the street. But,
of sin against yourself which is important to
at the same time, there’s something like a
me and really means the same thing. Usually,
barometer in each of us. At least, I feel it very
it results from weakness, from the fact that
distinctly; in all the compromises I make, in
we’re too weak to resist temptation; the
all the wrong decisions I take, I have a very
temptation to have more money, comfort, to
clear limit as to what I mustn’t do, and I try
possess a certain woman or man, or the temp-
not to do it. No doubt sometimes I do, but I
tation to hold more power.
try not to. And that has nothing to do with
Then there’s the question of whether we
any description or exact definition of right
should live in fear of sin. That’s an entirely dif-
and wrong. It has to do with concrete ever-
ferent problem which also results from the
yday decisions.
tradition of the Catholic or Christian faith. It’s
That’s something we thought about a lot
a little different in Judaism; they have a dif-
when we were working on Decalogue. What,
ferent concept of sin. That’s why I spoke about
in essence, is right and what is wrong? What
a God of the Old Testament and a God of the
is a lie and what is truth? What is honesty and
New. I think that an authority like this does
what is dishonesty? And what should one’s
exist. As somebody once said, if God didn’t
attitude to it be?
exist then somebody would have to invent
I think that an absolute point of referen-
Him. But I don’t think we’ve got perfect justi-
ce does exist. Although I must say that when
ce here, on earth, and we never will have. It’s
I think of God, it’s more often the God of the
justice on our own scale and our scale is minu-
Old Testament rather than the New. The God
te. We’re tiny and imperfect.
of the Old Testament is a demanding, cruel
If something is constantly nagging you
God; a God who doesn’t forgive, who ruthles-
that you’ve done the wrong thing, that means
sly demands obedience to the principles
you know you could have done the right thing.
which He has laid down. The God of the New
You have criteria, a hierarchy of values. And
Testament is a merciful, kind-hearted old man
that’s what I think proves that we have a
with a white beard, who just forgives ever-
sense of what is right and wrong and that we
ything. The God of the Old Testament leaves
are in a position to set our own, inner com-
us a lot of freedom and responsibility, obser-
pass. But often, even when we know what is
ves how we use it and then rewards or punis-
honest and the right thing to do, we can’t
hes, and there’s no appeal or forgiveness. It’s
choose it. I believe we are not free. We’re
something which is lasting, absolute, evident
always fighting for some sort of freedom, and,
and is not relative. And that’s what a point of
to a certain extent, this freedom, especially
reference must be, especially for people like
external freedom, has been achieved – at
68
least in the West, to a much greater extent
emotional choi ces, and they’ve got fewer
than in the East. In the West, you’ve got the
choices because they don’t have the day-to-
freedom to buy a watch or the pair of trou-
day problems which fall on our shoulders
sers you want. If you really need them, you
every single day. They don’t encounter love or
buy them. You can go where you like. You’ve
can only experience longing. They don’t have
got the freedom to choose where you live.
the possibility of satisfying their love.
You’re free to choose the conditions you live
Since there are far fewer choices to be
in. You can choose to live in one social circle
made in prison, there’s a much greater feeling
rather than another, amongst one group of
of freedom than at the moment of leaving pri-
people rather than another. Whereas I belie-
son. Theoretically, when you leave, you’ve got
ve we’re just as much prisoners of our own
the freedom of eating what you want, but in
passions, our own physiology, and certainly
the realm of emotions, in the realm of your
our own biology, as we were thousands of
own passions, you’re caught in a trap. People
years ago. Prisoners of the rather complica-
are always writing about this and I under-
ted, and very frequently relative, division bet-
stand them very well.
ween what is better and what is a bit better
The freedom we’ve achieved in Poland
and that which is a tiny bit better still, and
now doesn’t really bring us anything, becau-
what is a little bit worse. We’re always trying
se we can’t satisfy it. We can’t satisfy it in the
to find a way out. But we’re constantly impri-
cultural sense because there isn’t any money.
soned by our passions and feelings. You can’t
There simply isn’t any money to spare for cul-
get rid of this. It makes no difference whether
ture. There also isn’t any money for a lot of
you’ve got a passport which allows you into
things which are more important than cultu-
every country or only into one and you stay
re. So there is a paradox: we used to have
there. It’s a saying as old as the world - free-
money but no freedom, now we’ve got free-
dom lies within. It’s true.
dom but no money. We can’t express our fre-
When people leave prison – I’m thinking
edom because we haven’t got the means. But
about political im prisonment in particular –
if that’s all there was to it, of course, it would
they’re helpless when faced with life and they
be relatively simple; some day money will
say they were only really free in prison. They
somehow be organized. The problem is more
were free there because they were sentenced
serious than that. Culture, and especially film,
to live in one room or cell with one particular
had enormous social significance in Poland
person, or to eat only this or that. Outside pri-
once and it was important what sort of film
son you’ve got the freedom to choose what
you made. It was the same in all the east Euro-
you eat; you can go to an English, Italian, Chi-
pean countries. And in a sense masses of peo-
nese or French restaurant. You’re free. Priso-
ple waited to see what film Wajda or Zanus-
ners are not free to eat what they want becau-
si, for example, would make next because for
se they only get what they’re brought in a
a great number of years film-makers hadn’t
bucket. Prisoners are not free because they
come to terms with the existing state of
haven’t the possibility of making moral or
affairs, and they tried to do something which
69
would express this attitude. The nation in
cartoonist mainly. His name is Andrzej Mlecz-
general couldn’t come to terms with the exi-
ko. He’s an extremely intelligent and witty
sting state of affairs either. In this sense we
man. Of course, he had constant problems
were in a luxurious and unique situation. We
with the censors. They kept bothering him.
were truly important in Poland – precisely
They’d take his drawings. Recently, they
because of censorship.
abolished censorship. It doesn’t exist. One
We’re allowed to say everything now but
day, Mleczko sent for a carpenter because he
people have stopped caring what we’re allo-
had to level out his banisters. And who should
wed to say. Censorship bound authors to the
come along? The censor, of course. He gets
same extent as it did the public. The public
hold of the plane and works the banister with
knew the rules by which censorship worked
it. Mleczko approaches and says, ‘I won’t let
and waited for a signal that these rules had
that pass.’ So the censor planes the banister
been by-passed. It reacted to all these signs
a second day. Mleczko watches him: ‘I won’t
perfectly, read them, played with them. Cen-
let that pass.’ The censor went bankrupt.
sorship was an office and its workers were
The fact that we had censorship in Poland
clerks. They had their regulations, books of
– which even worked quite well although it
injunctions and that’s where they found
wasn’t as intelligent as it could have been –
words and situations which weren’t allowed
didn’t necessarily entail tremendous restric-
to be shown on screen. They’d cut them out.
tions of freedom since, all in all, it was easier
But they couldn’t cut out words which hadn’t
to make films there then than it is under the
been written in their regula tions yet. They
economic censorship here in the West. Eco-
couldn’t react to situations which their bos-
nomic censorship means censorship imposed
ses hadn’t described yet. We quickly learnt to
by people who think that they know what the
find things which they didn’t know yet and
audience wants. In Poland, at the moment,
the public faultlessly recognized our intenti-
there’s exactly the same economic censors-
ons. So we communicated over the censors’
hip- audience censorship- as there is in the
heads. The public understood that when we
West, except that audience censorship in
spoke about a provincial theatre, we were
Poland is totally unprofessional. The produ-
speaking about Poland, and when we showed
cers or distributors are in no position to reco-
the dreams of a boy from a small town as
gnize the public.
being hard to fulfil, these dreams couldn’t be
When I had written all the screenplays for
fulfilled in the capital or anywhere else eit-
Decalogue I presented them to Television and
her. We were together, us and the public, in
was allocated a budget, but I realized that we
the aversion we had for a system which we
were still short of money. We had two sour-
didn’t accept. Today this basic reason for
ces of finance in Poland at that time. One was
being together doesn’t exist anymore. We’re
Television. The other was the Ministry of Arts
lacking an enemy.
and Culture. So I went along to the Ministry;
I have a good story about a censor. I have
I took a few of the Decalogue screenplays
a friend in Krakow who’s a graphic artist, a
with me and said, ‘I’ll make you two films very
70
cheaply, on the condition that one of them
There is a difference in that you always
will be number five’ - because I really wanted
have less money when making a television
to make number five – ‘but you choose the
film, so you have less time. You have to make
other one.’ So they chose number six, and
TV films faster and a little less carefully. The
gave me some money. Not much but enough.
staging has to be simpler, shots are closer rat-
I wrote longer versions of the screenplays.
her than wider because in a wider shot you’d
Later on, while shooting, I made the two ver-
have to set up more scenery. That’s where the
sions of both films. One for the cinema, and
principle of television close-ups came from.
the other for television. Everything got mixed
When I see films on television where there are
up later on, of course. Scenes from television
very wide shots, even American large budget
went to the cinema version, from the cinema
films, they’re very watchable on the small
version to television. But that’s a pleasant
screen. Perhaps you can’t see everything in
game in the cutting-room. The nicest moment.
such detail but the impression is much the
What is the difference between films made
same. The impression is equally one of size.
for television and those made for cinema?
What doesn’t pass the test on television is
First, I don’t think the television viewer is less
Citizen Kane, for example, which doesn’t look
intelligent than the cinema audience. The rea-
right on television because it requires grea-
son why television is the way it is, isn’t becau-
ter concentration than is possible on the small
se the viewers are slow-witted but because
screen.
editors think they are. I think that’s the pro-
The difference between the cinema and
blem with television. This doesn’t apply so
television audience is very simple. The cine-
much to British television which isn’t as stu-
ma-goer watches a film in a group, with other
pid as German, French or Polish television. Bri-
people. The television viewer watches alone.
tish television is a little more predisposed to
I’ve never yet seen a television viewer hold
education, on the one hand, and, on the other,
his girlfriend by the hand, but in the cinema
to presenting opinions and matters connec-
it’s the general rule. Personally, I think that
ted with culture. These things are treated far
televisi on means solitude while cinema
more broadly and seriously by British televi-
means community. In the cinema, the tension
sion, especially the BBC or Channel 4, and this
is between the screen and the whole audien-
is done through their precise, broad and exact
ce and not only between the screen and you.
documentary films and films about individu-
It makes an enormous difference. That is why
als. Whereas television in most countries –
it’s not true that the cinema is a mechanical
including America – is as idiotic as it is becau-
toy.
se the editors think people are idiots. I don’t
It’s a well-known theory that film has
think people are idiots and that’s why I treat
twenty-four frames to the second, and that a
both audi ences equally seriously. Conse-
film is always the same; but that’s not true.
quently, I don’t see any great difference in the
Even though the reel might be exactly the
narration or style between films made for
same, the film’s entirely different when it’s
television and those made for cinema.
shown in a huge cinema, to an audience of a
71
thousand, where a certain tension and atmos-
notice that the films are interconnected. If
phere are created in perfect conditions, on a
you watch the films one a week, you don’t
perfect screen, and with perfect sound. It’s a
really notice this. That’s why wherever I had
completely different film when shown in a
any influence on how the films would be
small, smelly cinema in the suburbs, to an
shown on television, I always asked that they
audience of four, one of whom might be sno-
be shown at least two a week, so that the vie-
ring. It’s a different film. It’s not that you
wer would have a chance to see what brings
experience it differently. It is different. In this
the characters together. But that means I
sense, films are hand-made; even though a
made an obvious mistake in not following
film can be repeated because the reels are the
conventions. I’d probabl y make the same
same, each screening is unrepeatable.
mistake again today because I think there
Those are the main differences between
was some sense in the films being separate -
television and cinema films. But, of course,
but it was a mistake as regards the viewers’
there are also characteristics specific to tele-
expectations.
vision films which are mainly based on the
Talking about conventions, one more thing
fact that television has got people used to
has to be mentioned. When you go to the cine-
certain things. I’m not talking about stupidi-
ma, whatever it’s like, you always concentra-
ty – God forbid – but it has got people used
te because you’ve paid for the ticket, made a
to certain things. For example, to the fact that
great effort to get on the bus, taken an
every evening or once a week the same TV
umbrella because it’s raining outside, or left
characters will pay them a visit. That’s one of
the house at a certain time. So, because of the
the conventions when you make a serial, for
money and effort spent, you want to experi-
example, and people have grown used to it,
ence something. That’s very basic. Conse-
have grown to like these visits, like their fami-
quently you’re in a position to watch more
ly visiting them on Sundays or having Sunday
complicated relationships between charac-
lunch with their friends. If they’ve got any
ters, more complicated plots, and so on. With
sympathy for the characters, that is. The Ame-
television, it’s different. When you’re wat-
ricans try very hard to make their characters
ching television, you experience everything
likeable even though you might have reser-
that’s going on around you: the scrambled
vations about them.
eggs which are burning, the kettle which has
So television films have to be narrated in
boiled over, the telephone which has just star-
a way to satisfy the viewers’ needs to see
ted to ring, your son who isn’t doing his home-
their friends and acquaintances again. That’s
work and whom you have to force to his
the general convention and I think that’s
books, your daughter who doesn’t want to go
where I went wrong in Decalogue. Decalogue
to bed, the thought that you’ve still got so
was made as a number of individual films. The
much to do, and the time you have to get up
same characters reappear only now and again
in the morning. You experience all this while
and you have to pay great attention and con-
watchi ng television. Consequently - and
centrate very hard to recognize them and
that’s another mistake I made with Decalo-
72
gue- stories on television have to be told more
uses, if he’s intelligent and talented, he will
slowly, and the same thing has to be repea-
understand it, and this spirit will somehow
ted several times, to give the viewer who’s
get through to the film – however different
gone off to make a cup of tea or gone to the
the camerawork and lighting – and determi-
loo a chance to catch up with what’s hap-
ne the essence of the film.
pening. If I were to make the films again
I’ve never given lighting cameramen as
today, I still probably wouldn’t take this into
much freedom as I did in Decalogue. Each one
account even though I consider it a mistake.
could do as he pleased, albeit because my
The best idea I had in Decalogue was that
strength had run out. Besides, I counted on
each of the ten films was made by a different
the competence, on the energy which results
lighting cameraman. I thought that these ten
from freedom. If you impose restrictions on
stories should be narrated in a slightly diffe-
someone, he won’t have any energy. If you
rent way. It was fantastic. I gave a choice to
give him freedom, then he’ll have energy
the cameramen I’d worked with before, but
because there’ll be lots of different possibili-
for those whom I was working with for the
ties for him and he’ll try to find the best. So I
first time, I sought out ideas, or films, which
gave my lighting cameramen a tremendous
I believed would, in some way, suit and inte-
amount of freedom. Each one could decide
rest them and allow them to make best use
how and where he put the camera, how to use
of what they had: their skills, inventiveness,
it, how to operate it. Of course, I could disa-
intelligence, and so on.
gree but I accepted nearly all their ideas con-
It was an amusing experience. Only one
cerning operating, structure and staging. And
cameraman made two films; all the others
despite this, the films are all similar. It’s inte-
were made by different lighting cameramen.
resting.
The oldest cameraman must have been over
I know a lot of actors in Poland but there
sixty, and the youngest about twenty-eight –
are a lot I don’t know and I met a great many
he’d just finished film school. So they came
of them for the first time when making Deca-
from different generations, had completely
logue. Some actors I didn’t know and I might
different experiences and approaches to the
as well go on not knowing them because
profession. Yet these films are, all in all, extre-
they’re not my actors. It often happens that
mely similar visually, even though they are so
you meet an actor whom you think is fanta-
different. In one the camera is hand-held, in
stic then, when you start working, it turns out
another a tripod is used. One uses a moving
that he simply doesn’t understand, work, or
camera while another uses a stationary one.
think on the same wavelength as you. And,
One uses one kind of light, another uses some-
consequentl y, your work together simply
thing different. Yet despite everything, the
becomes an exchange of i nformation, an
films are similar. It seems to me that this is
exchange of requests. I ask him to play like
proof, or an indication, of the fact that there
this or like that. He plays like this or slightly
exists something like the spirit of a screen-
differently and not much comes of it. On the
play, and whatever resources a cameraman
other hand, I met a lot of actors whom I did-
73
n’t know before and I really ought to have
then returned to number five. Of course, it’s
known; experienced actors of the older gene-
more difficult in the West because the money
ration and young actors whom I used for the
involved belongs to somebody in particular:
first time.
the money’s not nobody’s, that is, it’s not
The films kept overlapping because of the
State money as it was in Poland. So it is har-
actors and because of various things to do
der, but I do try this stratagem. Decalogue
with organization and production. It was all
was a typical example of this. I could manoeu-
carefully planned. People knew that if, on a
vre all the time. If something didn’t seem right
particular day, we were going to be filming a
in the cutting-room, I’d simply shoot another
corridor in a building which was going to be
scene. Or reshoot it. I’d change it. And I’d
used in three films, then three cameramen
know why I was changing it and how. It was
would come along, light it and we’d do their
much easier.
three successive scenes. This was simply
In fact, I just keep shooting these tests all
because it was easier to bring in three came-
my life. Then suddenly the tests are finished
ramen, and even change the lighting, rather
and a film’s got to be cut from them. I always
than hire the same location three times,
work like this and always have done. It’s dif-
demolish everything three times and set it up
ficult for me to write a film on paper the way
again.
it will look in the end. It never ends up looking like that. It always looks a bit different. Decalogue took a year to shoot with a break of a month, so eleven months in all. I even went to Berlin during that time because I was giving seminars there. Sometimes l’d go on a Sunday or in the evening. I’d go in the evening, for example, and come back in the morning, to shoot.
This is how we worked. The lighting came-
I often used to catch flu or a cold or some-
raman would be informed ahead of time that
thing but I don’t get ill when I’m shooting. I
he’d have to come on a certain day because
don’t know why. Energy accumulates, from
a bit of his film was going to be shot, a bit of
some past time in your life and that’s when
his scene in a given interior. So he’d come
you use it- because you’re in dire need of it. I
along. We often made breaks in the shoot.
think it’s like that in general. If you really need
Why, for example, did we interrupt the filming
something, really want something, then you
of Decalogue 5? We began it, shot half, and
get it. It’s the same with energy and health
made a break. Slawek, the cameraman, was
while filming. I can’t remember ever being ill
probably busy, working on some other film.
while shooting. My own energy kept me
So we shot more or less half of it and then
going, plus something like – for example in
took a break of two or three months. Mean-
Decalogue – curiosity to know what was
while we made two other Decalogues and
going to happen because a new lighting
74
cameraman was coming the following day,
there wasn’t any guy in a black suit.’ Mach
with different actors and so on. What’s going
says, ‘How come? He stood on the left-hand
to happen? How’s it going to turn out?
side of the frame, in the foreground, in a black
I was shattered by the end, of course. But
suit, white shirt and black tie. Then he walked
I remembered everything accurately; how
across to the right-hand side of the frame and
many takes I had, how many retakes of a par-
moved off.’ The director says, ‘There wasn’t
ticular take in film 4 or 7 or 3 or 2 or 1, right
any guy like that.’ Mach says, ‘There was. I saw
up until the very end of the edit. I didn’t have
him. And that’s what I liked most in the film.’
any problems there.
Ten days later he was dead. So Witek Zalews-
There’s this guy who wanders around in all
ki told me this anecdote, this incident, and I
the films. I don’t know who he is; just a guy
understood what he felt was missing. He mis-
who comes and watches. He watches us, our
sed this guy in a black suit whom not ever-
lives. He’s not very pleased with us. He comes,
yone sees and who the young director didn’t
watches and walks on. He doesn’t appear in
know had appeared in the film. But some peo-
number 7, because I didn’t film him right and
ple saw him, this guy who looks on. He does-
had to cut him out. And he doesn’t appear in
n’t have any influence on what’s happening,
film 10 because, since there are jokes about
but he is a sort of sign or warning to those
trading a kidney, I thought that maybe it’s not
whom he watches, if they notice him. And I
worth showing a guy like that. But I was pro-
understood, then, that that’s what Witek felt
bably wrong. No doubt I should have shown
was missing in the films so I introduced the
him in that one, too.
character whom some called ‘the angel’ and
The guy didn’t appear in the screenplays
whom the taxi-drivers when they brought him
initially. We had a very clever literary mana-
to the set called ‘the devil’. But in the screen-
ger, Witek Zalewski, at the time in whom I had
plays he was always described as ‘young man’
and still have immense trust and, when we’d
The Polish ratings for Decalogue were
written the Decalogue screenplays, he kept
good, or rather, the so-called ratings. They’re
saying to me, ‘I feel there’s something missing
counted in percentages by a special office. It
here, Krzysztof. There’s something missing.’
started with 52 per cent for film I and went
‘But what, Witek? What do you feel is mis-
up to 64 per cent for film 10. That means
sing?’ ‘I can’t say, but there’s something mis-
about 15 million viewers, which is a lot. The
sing. Something’s not there in the scripts.’ And
critics weren’t bad this time. They had a few
we talked, talked, talked, talked and talked
digs at me but rarely below the belt.
and in the end he told me this anecdote about a Polish writer called Wilhelm Mach. This Mach was at some screening. And Mach says, ‘I liked the film very much. I liked it and especially that scene at the cemetery.’ He says, ‘I really liked the guy in the black suit at the funeral.’ The director says, ‘I’m very sorry but
75
I Am The Lord Thy God
Thou Shalt Not Take The Name Of God In Vain
Decalogue 1
De c al o g u e 2
The first of 10 brilliant one-hour televisi-
Kieslowski’s illustration of the Ten Com-
on episodes by Polish director Krzysztof
mandments continues. In this second
Kieslowski, each based on one of the Ten
episode of The Decalogue, an elderly and
Commandments and all set in the same
cranky doctor, whose family we learn had
contemporary apartment complex. Illust-
been wiped out years before during the
rating the First Commandment, this
war, is presented with an insoluble ethi-
outing is a cautionary fable about wors-
cal dilemma. A young woman in his apart-
hipping false gods, specifically technolo-
ment house tells him that her seriously ill
gy. But rather than fall into glib prono-
husband is in one of the wards under her
uncements on modern man’s unscientific
charge. She loves him deeply, but she is
faith in science, Kieslowski sketches out
pregnant by her lover and, though she
a complete ethical landscape, in which
does not want to leave or hurt her hus-
issues of family love, religion, and social
band, for medical reasons this is her only
responsibility all coalesce into a drama of
chance to have a baby. If her husband is
searing power. Krzysztof, a center-aged
going to live, she will abort, not wishing
mathematician, uses his home computer
to hurt him. But if he is going to die, she
to strengthen his already warm bond with
will happily carry the pregnancy to frui-
his 11-year-old son. Although the boy’s
tion.
aunt is a believer, his father insists on rai-
The world-weary physician does ever-
sing him according to principles of abso-
ything he can to avoid the imposed obli-
lute rationalism – a principle that leads
gation to play God, but eventually he must
them to judge the fitness of a local pond
step into the role. Again, with Kieslows-
for ice skating by calculating weather and
ki the immediate consequence of the dra-
freezing points on a computer. The tra-
ma’s end does not fully satisfy his moral
gedy that almost inevitably ensues is play-
aims, and this outing, like all the others,
ed out in detail, not merely to dramatize
ends on a note of profound ambiguity
the ruins of a broken heart but, in one of
accompanied by morally unforgiving con-
the provocative theological twists that
sequences.
Kieslowski tosses off almost offhandedly, to depict how hatred of God is an act of faith. The melted wax and ice that substitute for tears at the end of the film are among the most moving images in modern cinema.
76
Honor The Sabbath Day
Honor Thy Father And Mother
D e c a l og u e 3
Decalogue 4
Kieslowski ponders “Honor the Sabbath
“Honor thy Father and Mother” the com-
Day” in the third installment of his tele-
mandment goes, but what if the man who
vision study of the relevance of the Ten
has raised you is not your father? Well,
Commandments to the modern world, an
says Kieslowski in themost open-ended of
appositeness he discovers is always acu-
his ethical fables, perhaps the perfor-
tely distressing. In this outing a married
mance of obligation imposes moral sanc-
man (Daniel Olbrychski) is pulled away
tions as great as those of blood. Anka
from his family on Christmas Eve by an
(Adrianna Biedrzynska) is a lovely young
old flame (Maria Pakulnis) whom he has-
woman embroiled in a warm and tender
n’t seen for three years. She needs him
relationship with her somewhat subdued
and his cab, she insists, because her hus-
father, Michael (Janusz Gajos), who has
band has disappeared, probably on a toot,
raised her single-handedly since her
and needs their help. They make the
mother died. One day she discovers a let-
rounds of deserted city streets, visiting
ter her mother wrote on her deathbed,
the drunk tank and dealing with the poli-
and when Michael returns from a trip she
ce as they conduct a search not just for
confronts him, declaring that the dead
the phantom husband, but for the truth
woman has confessed that Michael is, in
of what broke up their romance.
fact, not her father. Love does not die,
As always, Kieslowski is interested in
however, but begins to take on more pas-
the way moral absolutes affect contem-
sionate forms as, freed from taboo, the
porary life, and the result of his study is
pair slowly admit to feeling other affec-
a moral debate brought to vivid life by the
tions for each other. Kieslowski conti-
immediacy of its application, and a dingy
nually juggles the facts, never showing
reality which gains vitality by the pressing
the letter and keeping the issue of incest
needs to discern right and wrong. Appli-
wide open. However, he does so not to
cations to authority must be made becau-
titillate, but to further the investigation
se choices have consequences; the tour
into what it is that actually constitutes a
through sad Polish streets and the des-
parent-child relationship and what para-
perate loneliness of a drunk tank presi-
meters grow naturally around such love.
ded over by a sadistic civil servant are
Warmer and slightly more passionate
perhaps the most searing indictments of
than others in the series, this episode still
political arrogance to emerge from a
does justice to the psychological and
country that specializes in them.
moral complexities from which it issues.
77
Thou Shalt Not Kill
Thou Shalt Not Commit Adultry
D e c a l og u e 5
De c al o g u e 6
Kieslowski’s contemplation of the ways
This story of voyeurism and the perils of
we violate the divine injunction “Thou
erotic revenge was later expanded by
Shalt Not Kill” composes the most unsett-
Kieslowski into A Short Film About
ling and riveting episode of his moral
Love.Here, shorn of some of its psycho-
series. Built around a pair of murders, one
logical density, the one-hour film beco-
solitary and the other performed by the
mes an almost abstract assertion that the
state, the director reaches some of his
real way to wield power – the kind of
most wrenching effects simply by refu-
power worth wielding – in a love affair is
sing to turn away from the face of sin, thus
by being absolutely submissive, just as a
depicting a punishment that is part and
supplicant would be to the deity.
parcel of the crime.
Tomek (Olaf Lubaszenko) is a 19-year-
Shot with a unique array of filters and
old postal clerk who whiles away his
masks, this story of death and retribution
hours spying on a neighbor, the volup-
opens with the almost casual murder of a
tuous Magda (Grazyna Szapolowska), and
brutish taxi driver by a lonely young man,
calling her to his office on false errands.
then quickly moves to his own execution,
However, as he circles in on his object of
which takes place only after the most ago-
desire and eventually reveals his activities
nizing self-appraisal and yearning for for-
to her, Magda becomes preoccupied with
giveness on the young man’s part. This
avenging her perceived humiliation, and
last is witnessed by his lawyer Piotr, a
she achieves her end with surprising effi-
young man himself who has only recent-
ciency. However, having destroyed her
ly passed the bar. Unalterably opposed to
prey, she suddenly finds herself the moral
capital punishment for any reason, Piotr
prisoner of a supine and perhaps uncon-
is nonetheless pressganged into aiding
scious youth who, by her cruelty, has been
the legal assassination of his own client
liberated from his own passions.
as he accompanies him to the hangman.
The film is not merely a nifty tale of
Both killings are shown in detail – one the
clever reversals; everything that happens
fruit of gathering passion, the other the
is animated by a spiritual force that is
outcome of dry routine, but both utterly
almost palpable in the director’s dark fra-
horrifying. As Piotr goes out to the coun-
mes and airless silences – vacuums filled
try to vent his anger in a scream of fru-
by the ineffably divine.
stration, he occupies a landscape similar to the one where the first murder was committed, sentenced by Kieslowski to a term on an earth bounded on every side by futile suffering and empty vengeance.
78
Thou Shalt Not Steal
Thou Shalt Not Bear False Witness
D e c a l og u e 7
De c al o g u e 8
The unendingly destructive consequen-
When is a lie justified? Kieslowski offers
ces of a theft set the pattern for the dra-
several tempting possibilities before
matization of the divine injunction,
asserting, in the end, that every lie claims
“Thou Shalt Not Steal.”
at least one victim in this most ethically
Majka (Maja Barelkowska), an intense young woman, accepts her expulsion
demanding dramatization of the Eighth Commandment.
from her university on the same day that
Zofia (Maria Koscialkowska) is a pro-
she applies for a passport to Canada. At
fessor of ethics in her 60s who conducts
home, she is angered when she cannot
her university class as a Socratic round of
quiet a crying child who awakens from a
ceaseless questioning built around hypo-
nightmare, while the woman the child
thetical situations. One day a visitor to the
calls mother can; and why not, because
class, Elzbieta (Teresa Marczewska), the
Majka is the birth mother of the child
American translator of Zofia’s work, pre-
Ania and the older woman, Ewa (Anna
sents a disturbingly familiar situation to
Polony), only her grandmother. Ewa had
Zofia involving Zofia’s decision during
coaxed Majka into this deception follo-
the German occupation not to provide
wing an early and accidental pregnancy,
sanctuary to a young Jewish girl. Zofia’s
but in the years since, Majka had grown
response comes only after some self-
furious with Ewa’s usurpation of her role
examination, during which she comes to
as the child’s mother.
realize that Elzbieta was that little girl,
Majka snatches Ania and runs off into
now safely, if hazardously, grown.
the country where she hides out in the
Zofia’s reasoning behind her past
house of the girl’s father, a former writer
actions satisfies Elzbieta, and the two go
reduced to manufacturing teddy bears.
off to visit a poor tailor who inadvertent-
Majka’s frantic efforts to reclaim the
ly caused much of the trouble. But the
affections of her daughter occupy her
revelation of one disturbing truth has also
time, but her loss cannot be counteracted
exposed another damaging lie, and in the
with another sin, and Majka’s strategy
dinge of the poor tailor’s ramshackle
finally collapses in a heart-rending depar-
business, Kieslowski once again shows
ture on the platform of a rural train stop.
that divine laws are constructed to pro-
More so than in any other episode,
tect humans from their own frailties.
Kieslowski here succumbs to the temptation to play God himself, and his own violation of divine dictates lends a forced air to an otherwise accomplished film.
79
Thou Shalt Not Covet Thy Neighbor’s Wife
Thou Shalt Not Covet Thy Neighbor’s Goods
Decalogue 9
Decalogue 10
Kryzysztof Kieslowski rarely makes full
For his final entry in the Decalogue
use of melodrama, but he does so here in
series, Kieslowski actually turns benign-
order to demonstrate why one should
ly comic for an illustration of why one
“not covet thy neighbor’s wife.”
should not covet one’s neighbor’s goods.
Roman (Piotr Machalica) and Hanka
Accountant Jerzy and punk singer Artur
(Ewa Blaszczyk) are typically well-educa-
are a pair of adult brothers whose amia-
ted and sophisticated Kieslowski prota-
ble indifference to each other dissolves
gonists, but Roman, a surgeon, has lately
after their father dies. To their surprise,
become undone by the realization that he
the old skinflint was the owner of the most
is impotent. Eavesdropping and spying
valuable stamp collection in Poland, and
on his wife, he grows convinced she is
the apparent burden of his debts turns
having an adulterous romance. She
into a potential bonanza for the two finan-
insists she is faithful and, in her way, she
cially strapped men. However, rather
is telling the truth; the affair she carries
than cash in, the pair, who still have bit-
on in her mother’s empty flat is little more
ter memories of the way their father
than a physical release. Increased suspi-
neglected his family, become mesmerized
cion leads to humiliating discovery and
and then obsessed by the collection,
new declarations of fidelity, yet Roman
spending hours staring at the stamps and
cannot keep from suspecting. When his
then pouring over plans to complete
wife goes off for a skiing weekend and
various arcane sets. Their strange preoc-
Roman spies his old rival with skies
cupation leads them into the shadowy and
mounted on his car roof, a paroxysm of
ruthless world of professional stamp tra-
jealousy, unabated by narrowly missed
ding, and the two novices, with supreme
phone calls, ends in tragic death.
confidence in their own abilities, eventu-
The plot is a potboiler, but Kieslowski’s treatment of it is restrained. Creating
ally wind up the victims of a tremendous scam.
pauses in the narrative, he uses this space
Assuming a conventional structure for
to spell out Roman’s dedication to others
the only time in the series, Kieslowski
and Hanka’s dedication to him – a dia-
delivers the comic goods with ease and
gram of nearly complete devotion just shy
still manages to drive home his point.
of the grace needed to overcome spiritu-
Perhaps because this is the simplest and
al adversity.
most self-evident of moral commandments, it requires the least amount of elucidation but the greatest amount of narrative
sugarcoating.
In
any
Kieslowski provides plenty of both.
80
case,
L i v i n g i n a n u n di sc ri be d w o rl d is h ar d . I h a v e t o t r y i t t o k n o w w h a t it f ee l s l ik e. I t’ s l ik e h a v i ng n o i de n ti t y . Y o u r p r ob l e m s a n d su f f e r i n g s d i s a p p e a r . T h e y d i s in t e gr at e . T o p u t it m or e r a dic al l y : Y o u f e e l c om p le te l y c u t o ff f ro m o t h er p e o p l e . Y ou c a n n o t r e f e r to a n y th i n g, be c a u s e n ot h i n g h a s b e e n d e s c r i b e d an d p r op er l y n am e d . Y o u a re a l o n e .
81
Three Colours
Liberty, Equality, Fraternity
86
Blue, white, red. It was Piesio’s idea that
at old photographs and so on. There aren’t
having tried to film the Decalogue, why
any shots like this at all. There’s no past. She’s
shouldn’t we try liberty, equality and frater-
decided to cross it out. If the past comes back
nity? Why not try to make a film where the
it does so only in the music. But it appears
commanding dictums of the Decalogue are
that you can’t free yourself entirely from ever-
understood in a wider context? Why not try
ything that’s been. You can’t, because at a cer-
to see how the Ten Commandments function
tain moment something like simple fear ari-
today, what our attitude to them is and how
ses, or a feeling of loneliness or, for example,
the three words liberty, equality and frater-
as Julie experiences at a certain moment, the
nity function today? – on a very human, inti-
feeling of having been deceived. This feeling
mate and personal plane and not a philoso-
changes Julie so much that she realizes she
phical let alone a political or social one. The
can’t live the way she wanted to.
West has implemented these three concepts
That’s the sphere of personal freedom.
on a political or social plane, but it’s an enti-
How far are we free from feelings? Is love a
rely different matter on the personal plane.
prison? Or is it freedom? Is the cult of televi-
And that’s why we thought of these films.
sion a prison or is it freedom? Theoretically it’s freedom because, if you’ve got a satellite,
Blue is liberty. Of course it’s equality too. And
you can watch channels from all over the
it can just as easily be fraternity. But the film
world. But in fact you immediately have to
Blue is about liberty, the imperfections of
buy all sorts of gadgets to go with the tele-
human liberty. How far are we really free? For
vision. And if it breaks down you have to take
all its tragedy and drama, it’s hard to imagi-
it to be repaired or get an engineer to come
ne a more luxurious situation than the one
and do it for you. You get pissed off with
Julie finds herself in. She’s completely free at
what’s being said or shown on television. In
the beginning because her husband and
other words, while theoretically giving your-
daughter die, she loses her family and all her
self the freedom of watching various things
obligations. She is perfectly provided for, has
you’re also falling into a trap with this gad-
masses of money and no responsibilities. She
get.
doesn’t have to do anything any more. And
Or you buy yourself a car. Theoretically,
here the question arises: is a person in such
you’re free. You can leave whenever you
a situation really free? Julie thinks she is.
want. You don’t have to reserve a ticket. You
Because she’s not strong enough to do away
don’t have to buy anything. You don’t have to
with herself and follow her family into the
phone anywhere. You simply fill up wi th
next world, or maybe because she thinks she
petrol and go. But, in practice, problems crop
mustn’t do so – we’ll never know her reasons
up straight away. Because someone might
– she tries to live a different life. She tries to
steal the car or smash the windscreen and
free herself of everything to do with the past.
take the radio, you install a radio which you
In this sort of film there ought to be many sce-
can remove from the car. Of course this doe-
nes with her visiting the cemetery or looking
sn’t change anything because you keep thin-
87
king that someone’s going to steal it anyway.
but it becomes clear later on that she’s refu-
So you go and get it numbered. But, of cour-
sed them. She wants to forget all this. But is
se, you think that that’s not going to change
it really possible to forget? There comes a
anything because somebody’s going to pinch
moment when she starts to feel fine. She
it anyway. So you get yourself connected up
starts to function normally, smile, go for
to a computer system which, with the help of
walks. So it is possible to forget. Or at least
a satellite, allows you to locate the car should
to try to forget. But suddenly there’s jealou-
it get stolen. Apart from getting it stolen you
sy and she can’t get rid of it. She becomes a
might get it scratched, which you don’t want
prisoner of a jealousy which is absurd becau-
because it’s new. So you try and park it in such
se it concerns somebody who’s been dead and
a way as not to get it scratched and you start
buried for at least six months. There’s nothing
looking for a garage which, in a city, is extre-
she can do for or against him. She can’t defi-
mely difficult. There aren’t any garages. There
ne herself in relation to him. She can’t say ‘I
aren’t any parking lots. You’ve got nowhere
love you’ or ‘I hate you’. There’s nothing she
to park. So theoretically you’re free but in
can do yet the jealousy torments her as if he
practice you’re a prisoner of your car.
were still alive. She tries to fight it off and she
Well, that’s freedom and the lack of free-
does so in an absurd way. She suddenly beco-
dom as regards objects. The same applies to
mes so good that she’s too good. But she can’t
emotions. To love is a beautiful emotion but
get out of the trap. She puts it quite clearly
in l oving you immediately make yourself
at a certain moment in the film, that all this
dependent on the person you love. You do
is a trap: love, pity, friendship.
what he likes, although you might not like it
In a way, Julie’s in a static situation. She’s
yourself, because you want to make him
constantly wai ting for something, waiting
happy. So, while having these beautiful fee-
that something will change. She’s extremely
lings of love and having a person you love,
neurasthenic – because that’s what she’s
you start doing a lot of things which go
decided to be – and the film, in a sense, has
against your own grain. That’s how we’ve
to follow her, follow her way of life and her
understood freedom in these three films. On
behaviour. Of course this doesn’t mean that
the personal level.
if a film’s about boredom it has to be boring
In Blue the prison is created by both emo-
itself.
tions and memory. Julie probably wants to
There are various fade-outs. There’s the
stop loving her husband because it would
typical elliptical fadeout: time passes. A scene
make it far easier for her to live. That’s why
ends, there’s a fade-out and a new scene
she doesn’t think about him. That’s why she’s
begins. And there are four fade-outs which
forgotten. That’s why she doesn’t visit the
bring us back to exactly the same moment.
cemetery and never looks through old photo-
The idea is to convey an extremely subjective
graphs. When someone brings her old photo-
point of view. That is, that time really does
graphs, she says she doesn’t want to see
pass but for Julie, at a certain moment, it
them. We don’t actually show this in the film
stands still. A journalist comes to visit her on
88
the hospital terrace, says ‘Hello’ and Julie
where I glimpse a bit of life without knowing
replies ‘Hello’. That’s the way the fade-out
how it began or how it ends. The way Antoi-
starts the first time we see it. Two seconds go
ne does.
by between one ‘hello’ and the other. What I want to show is that for Julie time has stop-
All the three films are
ped. Not only does the music come back to
about people who
her but time stands still for one moment in
have some sort of
the film.
intuition or sensibili-
The same applies when the young strip-
ty, who have gut fee-
per/neighbour approaches her in the swim-
lings. This isn’t neces-
ming pool. The girl says: ‘Are you crying?’ And
sarily expressed in
time stands still forJulie. Because she really is
dialogue. Things are
crying. Another example – Antoine says:
very
‘Don’t you want to know anything? I got to
straight out in my
the car a couple of seconds after…’ And Julie
fi lms. Very often everything that’s most
replies: ‘No.’ And suddenly time stands still for
important takes place behind the scenes, you
her. She doesn’t once visit the grave, which
don’t see it. Either it’s there in the actors’ play,
means she doesn’t want to think about the
or it isn’t. Either you feel it, or you don’t.
rarely
said
J u l i e t te B i no c h e i n T h r e e C o lo u r s: B l u e
accident or her husband. But the boy reminds
White is also about a very sensitive per-
her of it. By his very appearance he causes it
son. Of course, he has very different reasons
all to come back to her.
for this sensitivity from Julie, but the film is
Antoine is an important character – not for
about a very sensitive man.
Julie but for us. He’s somebody who’s seen
It’ll be a very different film from Blue.
something, knows something. He tells us a lot
That’s how it was written and that’s how it
about her husband, for example. What do we
was made. It’s supposed to be a comedy but
know about Julie’s husband? Very little. All we
I don’t think it’s going to be all that funny. I’ve
know is what we find out from Antoine. We
cut out most of what was supposed to be
learn that he was one of those people who
funny but didn’t turn out that way.
repeats a joke twice. And we find out a lot
White is about equality understood as a
about Julie - that she noticed this in her hus-
contradiction. We understand the concept of
band and was able to mention it to the young
‘equality’, that we all want to be equal. But I
man. Apart from that, Antoine brings some-
think this is absolutely not true. I don’t think
thing else, something which we haven’t seen
anybody really wants to be equal. Everybody
before. Julie laughs only once in the film and
wants to be more equal. There’s a saying in
it’s here, when she’s with him. She keeps wal-
Polish: There are those who are equal and
king around with a long face but when she’s
those who are more equal. That’s what used
with Antoine we see that she used to laugh.
to be said during Communism and I think it’s
Antoine’s there for other reasons, too. I
still being said.
like observing fragments of life and I like films
89
This is what the film’s about. At the begin-
Valentine wants to think of others but she
ning, Karol is humiliated, trampled into the
keeps thinking about others from her own
ground. He wants to get out of this situation,
point of view. She simply can’t have any other.
both literally and metaphorically. Of course,
The same way as you or I don’t have any other
to a certain extent he’s to blame, but that’s
way of looking at things. That’s how it is. Now
the way things stand. He isn’t having any suc-
the question arises: even when we give of
cess sleeping with his wife. Nobody knows
ourselves, aren’t we doing so because we
why he’s suddenly impotent. Once he could
want to have a better opinion of ourselves?
and now suddenly he just can’t get it up. He
It’s something to which we’ll never know the
says that maybe it’s his work, wine at lunch
answer. Philosophers haven’t found it in 2000
or whatever, but we don’t really know. And
years and nobody will.
because he can’t get it up he is extremely
There’s something beautiful in the fact
humiliated both as a man and as a human
that we can give something of ourselves. But
being. Everything he ever had is taken away
if it turns out that while giving of ourselves
from him and his love is rejected. Conse-
we are doing so in order to have a better opi-
quently, he wants to show that not just is he
nion of ourselves then immediately there’s a
not as low as he’s fallen, not just is he on a
blemish on this beauty. Is this beauty pure?
level with everybody else, but that he’s hig-
Or is it always a little marred? That’s the que-
her, that he’s better.
stion the film asks. We don’t know the answer,
So he does everything he can to prove to himself and to the woman who, to put it mild-
nor do we want to know it. We’re simply reflecting on the question once again.
ly, has spurned him, that he’s better than she
But Red is really about whether people
thinks. And he does. Therefore he becomes
aren’t, by chance, sometimes born at the
more equal. Except that, while becoming
wrong time.
more equal, he falls into the trap which he’s
What interested me about Véronique were
set his wife because it turns out that he loves
the parallels, the fact that one Véronique
her – something he didn’t know. He thought
senses the other, that one has the feeling that
he no longer loved her. His aim was to get
she isn’t alone in the world. And this idea is
even with her. Whereas with this revenge it
repeated very often in Véronique. Each of
suddenly appears that love has returned. Both
them says that she has a feeling that she isn’t
to him and to her.
alone, or one of them says that she has a fee-
You see them both on the ferry but you
ling that someone is next to her or that she’s
have to see the third film, Red, to know that
lost someone who’s very important although
White has a happy ending.
she has no idea who that person is. Auguste
I’ve got an increasingly strong feeling that
in Red hasn’t any feeling that a judge exists.
all we really care about is ourselves. Even
The judge, of course, knows that Auguste
when we notice other people we’re still thin-
exists. But we’ll never be sure whether Augu-
king of ourselves. That’s one of the subjects
ste really does exist or whether he’s only a
of the third film, Red fraternity.
variation of the judge’s life forty years later.
90
The theme of Red is the conditional mood
made to be shown in this order but that doe-
– what would have happened if the judge had
sn’t mean that you can’t watch them the other
been born forty years later. Everything that
way round. There were a lot of connections
happens to Auguste happened to the judge
between the films of the Decalogue. There are
although, perhaps, slightly differently. At one
far
point in the film, the judge says that he saw
tions here and they
a white mirror with the reflection of his fian-
are far less impor-
cee’s legs spread out and a man between
tant.
fewer
connec-
them. Auguste doesn’t see any white mirror.
It wasn’t possible
Auguste sees it differently but the situation’s
for me to manoeuvre
the same. He sees the legs spread out and a
the shooting schedu-
man between them. So, does Auguste really
le, nor did I want to.
exist or doesn’t he? Is Auguste repeating
There’s a very diffe-
exactly the judge’s life? Is it possible to repeat
rent kind of produc-
somebody’s life after some time or not? But
tion set-up here. The Decalogue was shot in
the essential question the film asks is: is it
one city so there was the possi bil ity of
possible to repair a mistake which was com-
manoeuvring with the various films. We did
mitted somewhere high above? Somebody
this chiefly because of the actors, the came-
brought someone to life at the wrong
ramen’s schedules and so on. But here we’re
moment. Valentine should have been called
making three films in three different coun-
to life forty years earlier or the judge forty
tries with three different crews and three
years later and then they’d have constituted
completely different sets of actors, so it’s
a good pair. These people would probably
impossible to overlap like that. There’s only
have been very happy together. They proba-
one scene here where we could overlap. We
bly suit each other very well. That’s the theo-
shot a scene in Paris, in the Palace of Justice,
ry of the two halves of an apple. If you cut
which is in the film Blue and where you glimp-
one apple in half and cut another identical
se Zamachowski and Julie Delpy for a second,
one, the half of the one apple will never fit
while in the film White Binoche briefly
with the half of the other. You have to put
appears. That was an overlap where we sim-
together the halves of the same apple to
ply had one or two shooting days during
make the apple whole. The whole apple is
which half of the time was devoted to Blue
comprised of a matching pair and it’s the
and the other half to White.
J u l i e D el py i n T h r e e C o l o u rs : W h i te
same with people. The question is: has a
First we shot the whol e of Blue, then
mistake been committed somewhere? And if
immediately the next day we started shooting
it has then is there anybody in a position to
that part of White which takes place in Fran-
rectify it?
ce. We had ten or twelve shooting days on White in Paris and then we went to Poland
Blue, White and Red are three individual films,
where everything was different, a new crew,
three separate films. Of course they were
new electricians. But a lot of people also came
91
from France. The continuity girl was the same.
sion. Consequently, I thought it would be right
So was the soundman, Jean-Claude Laureux.
to employ those lighting cameramen who had
After the memorable experience of having
helped me on the Decalogue and with whom
fourteen sound engineers recording Véroni-
I’d enjoyed working. To be honest, I enjoyed
que, I now only have one. One of the basic
working with all of them on the Decalogue
conditions with which I confronted produc-
but there were some whom I’d felt had done
tion at the very start was that I have the same
a better job or who’d put more into it. Deca-
soundman from the beginning of the shoot to
logue was a very difficult film to make. Very
the finished copy. Of course, a different sound
hard for the cameramen, too. Very difficult
engineer comes along for the mixing because
conditions and little money. So I thought they
these are two different professions here. In
simply deserved some sort of friendly grati-
Poland it’s not like that. In Poland the sound-
tude.
man mixes his own film. He can’t do that here,
I had to choose lighting cameramen who
in the West, because mixing is so specialized
knew how things work in the West. Firstly,
and computerized. A soundman, if he’s any
they had to know the language. And second-
good, can’t know all about it because he has-
ly, they had to know how production works.
n’t got the time to learn. So Jean-Claude is
It’s too great a responsibility, too complica-
with us to the end. I think he’s pleased, alt-
ted to have somebody who didn’t know how
hough he’s got an enormous amount of work.
a production works in any country other than
It’s his creation. He’s got his own sound path
Poland or who doesn’t know any language
which he’s creating. He’s got some specialized
other than Polish. So this choice was in itself
equipment – I think it’s the second time this
limited.
system’s being used in France for recording
I think they’re well chosen for the style.
sound – and he’s editing all the sound effec-
Each one of them has a different world, sets
ts on a computer. He enters them onto the
up different lighting, uses the camera diffe-
computer and edits. The computer belongs to
rently. When I decided to work with them, I
him. He hires it out with himself and does all
bore in mind the needs of the films, their dra-
the work. He doesn’t even use a cutting table,
maturgy, their structure and so on. Of course,
only his computer. Of course this is nothing
one could imagine Slawek Idziak lighting Red
new as far as music or mixing are concerned,
and Piotrek Sobocinski lighting Blue, but Sla-
but it is new in the case of effects.
wek dearly wanted to work on Blue. He had a
I think I made a good choice with the
certain amount of freedom – he’s the lighting
lighting cameramen. First, I chose the ones
cameraman I’ve worked with the most. Apart
with whom I wanted to work. Three Colours
from that I thought that Blue required his way
were a pretty good opportunity for them
of looking at the world, his way of thinking,
because this is a large and serious production.
above all.
Although there are a number of Polish came-
All in all, I’m happy with the way Blue
ramen working abroad, most of them gene-
looks. There are a few impressive shots but
rally work for small productions or for televi-
there aren’t too many effects as such. I cut
92
out a great number of effects. We wanted to
It’s different over here, in France. In
convey Julie’s state of mind. When you wake
Poland, it’s the designer who generally looks
up on an operating table what you see first is
for locations but here it’s the director’s assi-
the lamp, the lamp becomes a great white
stant. I tell my assistant what I’m looking for,
haze and then it becomes clearer and clearer.
he
After the accident, Julie can’t see the man
ches, searches and
who brings her the television set clearly. She
then
opens her eyes and, for a while, she sees a
cameraman and mys-
blur. This isn’t accidental. It’s typical of her
elf decide. The desi-
mental state of absolute introversion, of
gner
focussing in on herself.
later, to change what
searches, the
only
sear-
lighting
comes
Piotrek Sobocinski photographed Red very
needs to be changed,
well indeed. Perhaps he restricts the actors a
to build walls, paint
bit too much at times but that’s how it is when
the right colours and
a lighting cameraman really does follow stric-
so on. But I don’t categorize so strictly. I don’t
tly and consistently what he wants to do.
want to bureaucratize the work. If the grip,
I r n e J a c o b in Th r e e C o l o u r s : R e d
The vital components of Red are red, the
for example, suddenly has a good idea for a
filters aren’t. Red clothes or a red dog’s leash,
location, then I go and see it – it might be very
for example. A red background to something.
good.
The colour is not decorative, it plays a dra-
Of course, Blue could take place anywhe-
maturgic role: the colour means something.
re in Europe. However, it’s very French becau-
For example, when Valentine sleeps with her
se the district Julie goes to live in is very Pari-
fiance’s red jacket, the red signifies memories,
sian in character. It’s a very well-known part
the need of somebody. Red is very complex in
of Paris called rue Mouffetard. It took us a
its construction. I don’t know whether we’ll
good two weeks to find it and we chose it
manage to get my idea across on the screen.
because of the possibilities it offered for
We had all we needed. We had very good
shooting. We found a place on rue Mouffetard
actors, because both Irene Jacob and Jean-
where we could set the camera up on four
Louis Trintignant were very good. The photo-
sides and we shot from all four sides although
graphy’s very good and the conditions were
you can hardly see that. The district’s a bit too
good. We had excellent interiors. The locati-
touristy and postcard-like for me but all pla-
ons in Geneva weren’t badly chosen. So I’ve
ces with a market tend to be like that. And we
got everything I need to put across what I
wanted a market and lots of people. The idea
want to say, which really is quite complica-
was that Julie should feel that she could lose
ted. Therefore, if the idea I’ve got in mind doe-
herself very easily, that when she goes there
sn’t come across, it means that either film is
nobody will find her, she’ll drown.
too primitive a medium to support such a con-
Initially, Julie and her husband were to live
struction or that all of us put together haven’t
in a villa in Paris and she was to move to the
got enough talent for it.
suburbs, but we decided that they’d have a
93
house some 30 kilometres from Paris and Julie
should have music, so we put the music in. He
moves to the centre, to a district where she
is definitely more sensitive in this area than I
can lose herself in a crowd. You can find com-
am. I think in a more traditional way whereas
plete anonymity in a big city among people.
his thinking is more modern, full of surprises.
To be honest, it’s also partly to do with the
That is, it surprises me where he wants music.
fact that we couldn’t find a good suburb.
Music is important in Blue. Musical notes
You can never find what you really want.
often appear on the screen, so in this sense
Geneva, where the action of Red takes place,
the film’s about music, about the writing of
is exceptionally unphotogenic. There’s noth-
music, about working on music. For some peo-
ing there you can photograph. There’s nothing
ple Julie is the author of the music we hear.
to catch the eye. The architecture isn’t uni-
At one stage the journalist asks Julie: ‘Did you
form. The whole of Geneva has been hacked
write your husband’s music?’ And Julie slams
to pieces. Houses have been pulled down and
the door on her. So this possibility does exist.
the gaps filled with modern buildings dating
Then the copyist says: ‘There are a lot of cor-
from the 1960s, 70s or 80s. It irritates me
rections.’ There had always been a lot of cor-
immensely. Geneva is spread out and lacks
rections. Did Julie only do the corrections?
character. Of course, in a wide shot showing
Maybe she’s one of those people who aren’t
the fountain, you know it’s Geneva, but apart
able to write a single sheet of music but is
from that there’s nothing characteristic.
wonderful in correcting a sheet which has
We needed houses in Geneva which topo-
already been written. She sees everything,
graphically fit in with each other. We must
has an excellent analytical mind and has a
have gone through the whole of Geneva,
great talent for improving things. The written
which isn’t large, and found two places like
sheet of music isn’t bad but when she’s impro-
that. Of course, it isn’t all that important that
ved it it is excellent. But it’s not all that impor-
the action takes place in Geneva but if you’-
tant whether she’s the author or co-author,
re in a city you do want to convey some sort
whether she corrects or creates. Even if she
of character of the place.
only does do the corrections she’s still the author or co-author because what has been cor-
I don’t know anything about music. I know
rected is better than it was before. The music
more about atmosphere than music as such.
is cited all through the film and then at the
I know what sort of atmosphere I want to
end we hear it in its entirety, solemn and
have in my films but I don’t know what music
grand. So we’re led to think that she’s played
would help achieve it or how to write that
a part in its creation. In this sense the film’s
music. Zbyszek Preisner is somebody I can
about music.
work together with, rather than just ask him
As yet I haven’t got any ideas for the music
to come up with a given effect. I often want
in White, the Polish film about equality, apart
to put music in where he says it would sound
from the fact that Karol plays ‘The last Sun-
absurd, and there are scenes which I don’t
day, tomorrow we’ll part’ on a comb two or
imagine having music but which he thinks
three times. It’ll probably have a certain sim-
94
plicity characteristic of music written for
for the whole day we hack it out to see
silent films, but it won’t be played on a piano.
whether anything could be put in a better
It’ll be a bit more complicated musically. I sus-
way, more concisely or even left out. Then we
pect that it’ll be inspired, to a certain extent,
change it on set another ten times, of course.
by Polish folk music such as the mazurka, for
I don’t rehearse
example, music which is a bit coarse yet at
actors. I never have,
the same time romantic.
not even in Poland.
Preisner has written a long bolero for the
And I don’t use stand-
last film, Red. A bolero is always made up of
ins. Except, perhaps,
two motifs which interweave with one ano-
when somebody has
ther. We’re going to use the two motifs and
got to get punched in
then, at the end, they’ll combine into a bole-
the nose and the
ro. Or maybe we’ll use the bolero at the begin-
actor doesn’t want to
ning and then divide it into the two motifs
get punched, then I
which we’ll use in the film. We’ll see how
use a stuntman. We
things go.
did, however, use a
In each of the three films we cite Van der
stand-in for JeanLou-
Budenmajer. We already used him in Véroni-
is Trintignant who
que and in the Decalogue. He’s our favourite
had difficul ty wal-
Dutch composer from the end of the nine-
king because of an
teenth century. He doesn’t exist. We invented
accident and had to use a walking stick. But
him a long time ago. Van der Budenmajer is
that was only in rehearsal. Because, despite
really Preisner, of course. Preisner is now
what I’ve just said, I did have to rehearse cer-
taking his old works and saying that they
tain very long scenes in Red, scenes with
were written by Van der Budenmajer. Van der
actors which last some ten minutes. That’s
Budenmajer has even got a date of birth and
extremely long and everything has to be pre-
a date of death. All his works are catalogued
pared very accurately. We rehearsed these
and the catalogue numbers used for recor-
scenes with the lighting cameraman for two
dings.
or three days in the proper interiors, to deci-
Z b i g n ie w P r ei s n e r i s i n te r e s t e d i n w o r k i ng on a f il m r i g ht f r o m t h e b eg i nn in g a n d no t j u s t s ee i n g t h e f in is h e d v e rs i o n a n d t h e n i ll us tr a t i ng i t w i t h m u s i c .
de exactly where each actor was to sit, where There were four versions of the script for each
we could put the lights and so on and so on.
of the films. Then there was another, so-cal-
I try to make what I do interesting for peo-
led amended fourth version which only dealt
ple. Just as I want the audience to be inte-
with dialogue. A dialogue writer was to join
rested, so I want the crew to be interested,
us initially but the producer and I managed to
too. I think that as soon as they see where I’m
persuade Marcin Latallo to translate our dia-
putting the camera, where the cameraman is
logue properly, finding all the correct idioms.
arranging the lights, how the soundman is
I generally dedicate a whole day only to
preparing himself and what the actors are
changes in dialogue. The actors sit around and
doing, they realize very quickly what sort of
95
a world we’re in. Besides, they are experien-
ditions very strictly – I expect him to give me
ced people who have already worked on a
the possibility of manoeuvring. That, for
large number of films.
example, I’ll be able to shoot a scene which
Of course I try to get as much out of ever-
isn’t in the script, or that he’ll allow me to cut
yone as I can. I’m always expecting people to
a very expensive one out if that scene turns
tell me something simply because I think that
out not to be necessary.
they often know better than I do. I expect it
On the other hand, I expect the producer
from actors, cameramen, soundmen, editors,
to be a partner. That is, I expect him to have
electricians, assistants, everyone. As soon as
an opinion, to know something about films
I start carrying boxes around, which I most
and the film market. That’s why it’s extreme-
willingly do, they stop thinking that they’re
ly important for the producer to have contac-
allotted to a certain box and realize they, too,
ts with distributors, or to be one himself.
can belong to a different box. They immediately sense that I’m open to their ideas.
The producer of Véronique, who was a very good partner to me and created very good
I can’t complain about producers. Up until
working conditions, turned out not to be a
now I’ve always worked without a producer
producer at all, because he didn’t tell me the
because there weren’t any producers as such
truth about how the film was being financed
in Poland. My friends and colleagues, without
and that led to numerous misunderstandings.
putting a penny into any of my films, were like
In Three Colours, which I’m making now,
producers to me. They’d look on from the side
I’ve also got this freedom. Maybe even to a
at everything I did and express their opinions.
greater degree, because I’ve got a decidedly
Freedom, of course, is tied up with many
better executive producer. Yvon Crenn is far
things. Money, for example. I prefer to work
more experienced than my previous executi-
with someone who will ensure that I have the
ve producer. He is far better in managing the
necessary amount of money. I have to have
money and creates better working conditions.
my requirements guaranteed. I keep repea-
An executive producer, someone who direct-
ting that I want to make low budget films but
ly supervises the set and spends the money
that doesn’t mean I’m going to look for my
on a daily basis, is an extremely important
own hotel, for example, when I’m on location.
person. On the other hand, Karmitz, of cour-
And I’m not going to ask my friends to play
se, is far more experienced than my previous
the main roles or to do the make-up and
producer and therefore has far more prono-
costumes. I prefer everything to be done pro-
unced opinions. Yet he’s always ready to talk,
fessionally.
discuss and find a way which will suit us both.
This is intrinsically tied up with the possi-
He’s helped me resolve a good many artistic
bility of my having a certain freedom to
problems. That’s another thing I expect of a
maneouvre. While discussing the script with
producer, of course. That, in a sense, he’ll be
the producer and coming to an agreement
an arbitrator, somebody I can turn to in diffi-
with him about the budget and working con-
cult moments. I don’t think there are many
ditions – and I try hard to keep to these con-
producers like that in the world.
96
T h o u g h I sp e a k w it h th e t o n g u e s o f a n ge l s , i f I h av e n o t l ov e M y w o rd s w ou l d r es o u n d w i th b u t a t in k l i n g o f a c ym b al . A n d t h ou g h I h a v e th e gi f t of p r op h e c y A n d u n de r s t an d a ll m ys t e r i e s and all knowledge A n d t h ou g h I h a v e al l f a it h S o th a t I c o u l d r e m o ve m ou n t a i n s, i f I h a ve n o t l o ve I am nothing. L ov e is p at i e n t, f u l l o f g o o d n es s ; L o v e t o le ra t e s a l l t h in g s , A s p ire s t o a l l t h in g s , L o v e n ev e r di e s , w h i l e th e p r o ph e cy s ha l l be d o n e aw a y , t o n gu e s s h a ll b e s i l e n ce d , k n ow l ed ge s h a l l f a d e th u s t h e n sh al l l i n ge r o n ly f a i th , h o pe , a n d l o ve bu t gr e a t e s t o f t h e s e i s l o ve .
97
Paris, the 10 t h o f J u n e 19 9 8
98
1:15 a.m.
Return from a walk with my wife, my daughter and our dog. Sat down in a little café at 0:30. When we left the café shortly after 1 o’clock there were no empty seats.
1:20 a.m.
I phoned Zbigniew Preisner, the composer. He had arrives in the afternoon from Warsaw. Tomorrow morning we are going to watch the “dirty” version of “Blue”, from the “Three Colours”.
7:4 5 a.m.
The alarm clock rings for the first time.
7:50 a.m.
The second ring of the alarm clock.
7:55 a.m.
The third ring, this time it’s the alarm of my watch. I have a shower, breakfast, rolls with slices of cold meat, left-overs of last night’s dinner. I like it that way.
9:15 a.m.
Meeting with Romek Grenem at the parking area, it has become an everyday routine lately.
9:4 5 a.m.
A meeting with the producer Marin Kamitz. We have a conversation about the photos for “Blue”. We haven’t got choice, due to a lack of photos because the production team haven’t delivered them. At 10 o’clock a.m. Zbigniew Preisner arrived. We discuss a few typical things for the music, then we start to watch the film. I’m very curious to know how the film will turn out with the complete sound.
11:50 a.m.
The production has been competed. We have squeezed too many side-effects and too much atmosphere. That’s why we had this “preliminary run” to see how much sound the film will need. We decide to cut out parts of the nega-
99
tive while the sound is being recorded. This starts in the morning of the 14th. We decide favour of Elzbieta Towarwicka for the concert, whose voice we use in “Blue”. Two days ago we taped two other singers, but the first one is the best.
0:30 p.m.
Dinner – a small salad. Since I finished the production, I can’t eat much. I am sitting permanently.
1:30 p.m.
The final mounting-corrections with Jacques Witta. We are cutting the filmshots and the first sound-version. Then the cutters do the corrections for every scene, on here 20 tapes for every act, altogether about 20 cuts. The film will be one minute shorter. I’m interrupted rather often when cutting the film “Blue” since the cutter of “White” Urszula Lesiak has some difficulties and is preparing the second mounting-version of “White” for tomorrow.
2:30 p.m.
My assistant for “Three Colours” Stas Latek has arrived from Canada. We talk in the corridors between the mounting-rooms. I constantly phone home. My wife and my daughter aren’t there. I’m worried because K. Piesiewicz, the co-writer of the screenplay, arrives from Warsaw at 6 o’clock. He hasn’t got a key to my flat. I call them at 6:15 p.m. and they are all in.
6:50 p.m.
We make the beginning and ending of “Blue”. There is enough music, but it should be short. Jacques says that they are too short. I think it is sufficient.
8:00 p.m.
We come back home. We think about how Romek is going to translate the vulgar expressions in the dialogues for the film “White” during the shooting tomorrow. The scene is
100
set in Poland, that is why it must be translated for Marina and the French. Romek is very sensitive, therefore he might choose “a Russian clock, probably not a good choice” instead of the original vulgar version. There are many similar vulgar expressions and I am sure that Romek will translate them properly.
8:30 p.m.
Stasio Latek wants to see Krzysztof Piesiewicz, therefore we go to my flat for dinner. We have bean soup and strawberries, a delicious meal. Krzysztof Piesiewicz has brought some drafts of the screenplay from Warsaw. He has to write it for a french film-director Franci Kuzui togehter with Latek. They talk about it. Krzysztof talks about Poland. After 11 o’clock Stas goes home. Krzysztof asks me wether I could read the draft of his screenplay. There are a few pages. I read them.
11:4 5 p.m.
I take Krzysztof to the hotel, it is not very far. He has got a nice room. On our way we talk about the draft. In front of the hotel I crash into a stone while driving backwards. There is a small hole in the door. That’s life.
00:00
I’m in a traffic jam in front of the place Clichy and I know it will go on. I’m tired. I’m sure that I’ll get up after the third ring tomorrow. The day will be like this one.
101
J uli e tte Binoche
102
When we developed the filmscript, we had no cast, we didn’t know, who would be able to play this. But I had met Juliette Binoche several years before. For sometime I thought that she could play the mainpart in “The double Life of Véronique”. At that time it was not possible, because she was just playing in another film. Then I wasn’t so unhappy about it, because Irène Jacob could play the role instead, and she was really very good. Later I started again to think about Juliette Binoche; I absolutely wanted to work with her, I assess her very highly as an actress. But I had thought as I knew, that I wanted to make the film “Blue”, that she was too young for the role. At that time she was playing for Louis Malle in the film “Damage” in London. I went to London to meet Juliette Binoche there. She didn’t know about my hesitation; she didn’t know, that I believed her to be too young for that role. I only told her about my doubts, when we we had supper. She answered, that she didn’t see it that way, and I answered, yes, for sure, you are too young. So we had in fact not a good basis to continue our conversation after supper. Then we had a nice conversation, as one usually has, and I took her home. And when we arrived on her doorstep, she gave me an envelope that she had prepared before. In my hotelroom I opened it, and two pictures of her were inside, and on one of them she looked exactly as old as I needed her. Then I realised, how clever and intelligent she is: she had felt about my hesitation much earlier and she had known about my plans long time before I had expressed them. At that moment I knew: she would play this role. I had no doubts any more. We wrote the last version of the film script exactly for her. From the beginning of the film-shooting we had been well prepared and everything was planned, but even while shooting the film Juliette helped a lot in developing her role. Even I shot some scenes again, when she thought, they should be different. But this is exactly, what I expect of good actresses. They have a personality of their own. She especially has something, that was very important for this film: an extrem female kind of sensitivity, and power at the same time. And especially this fusion of sensitivity and power works so well in her role, and we could consider this fact when writing this filmscript. Good actors are always exceptions, and I consider Juliette Binoche such an exception.
103
Interview with K.K.
104
W h y w e r e y o u in t e r e st e d i n th e F r e n c h
Precisely for the same reason that I was inte-
m o t t o : L i b e r t y , e q u al i t y , fr a te r n i ty ?
rested in “Decalogue.” In ten phrases, the ten commandments express the essential of life. And these three words – liberty, equality, and fraternity – do just as much. Millions of people have died for those ideals. We decided to see how these ideals are realized practically and what they mean today.
S o wh a t i n te r e s ts y o u i s li f e .
I wanted to describe the world at the same
I s t h is w h y yo u l e f t y o u r f ir s t j o b a s a
time, through image, express what I felt. It
d e s ig n e r to go t o s c h o ol i n
¿d‰
was the time of the great documentary filmm-
a n d s p ec i al i z e i n d oc u me n t ar i es ?
akers: Richard Leacock, Joris Ivens. Today, television has put an end to this type of filmmaking. The television industry doesn’t like to see the compexity of the world. It prefers simple reporting, with simple ideas: this is white, that’s black; this is good, that’s bad…
H o w d id y ou c o n c e iv e t h e f i l m s
We looked very closely at the three ideas, how
in r el a ti o n t o e ac h o th e r?
they functioned in everyday life, but from an individual’s point of view. These ideas are contradictory with human nature. When you deal with them practically, you do not know how to live with them. Do people really want liberty, equality, fraternity? Is it not some manner of speaking? We always take the individual, personal point of view.
S o y o u tu r n e d t o f i ct i on —
I think life is more intelligent than literature.
y et y o u s t ic k v e r y cl o s e to re al li f e .
And working so long in documentaries became both a blessing and an obstacle in my work. In a documentary, the script is just to point you in a certain direction. One never knows how a story is going to unfold. And during the shoot, the point is to get as much material as possible. It’s in the editing that a documentary takes place. Today, I think I still
105
work in the same way. What I shoot isn’t really the story – the footage just contains the elements that will make up the story. While shooting, details which weren’t in the script are often thrown in. And during the editing process a lot is cut out. I f y ou t o o k t h is w ay o f t h in k i n g fa r
No, not at all. Absolutely not. For me the script
e n o u gh , d on ’ t yo u th i n k y o u m i g h t e nd
is key because it’s the means to communica-
u p u s in g s c r ip ts m e r el y as p r e t ex ts ?
ting with the people I work with. It may be the skeleton, but it is the indispensable foundation. Later, many things can be changed: Certain ideas may be eliminated, the end may become the beginning, but what’s between the lines, all the ideas – that stays the same.
Yo u c a l l y ou r s e l f a n a r t is a n ,
Real artists find answers. The knowledge of
a s o p p o s ed to a n a r t is t . W h y ?
the artisan is within the confines of his skills. For example, I know a lot about lenses, about the editing room. I know what the different buttons on the camera are for. I know more or less how to use a microphone. I know all that, but that’s not real knowledge. Real knowledge is knowing how to live, why we live… things like that.
D i d y o u s h o o t th e f i l m s s e p e r a t e l y ,
We started with “Blue” and shot from Sep-
w it h a n i n te r v a l b e tw ee n t h e m ?
tember to November 1992. On the last day, we started “White” because in the courtroom scene, you see the characters from both films together. As it is very difficult to shoot in a courtroom in Paris, since we had the permit, we took advantage of it; we immediately shot about 30% of “White” because the first part takes place in Paris. Then we left for Poland to finish it. After ten days of rest, we went to Geneva to start “Red” which was shot in Switzerland from March to May 1993.
106
W a s th e s c r e en p l a y o f t h e t h re e f il m s
It was completed well before the first day of
fu l l y w r i t t en ?
shooting, six months before. You cannot forget the scouting for locations which takes ti me. You have to think in terms of 100 sequences, three countries and three different directors of photography. You have to organize and prepare in order to arrive at what was agreed with the producer.
Di d y ou ha ve t he s a m e c r e w
The directors of photography were different:
o n a l l t h r ee f i l ms ?
S¬awomir Idziak for “Blue,” Edward K¬osi~ski for “White” ( he worked several times with Andrzej Wajda) and Piotr Soboci~ski, who is young but very talented, for “Red.” The others, for sound, set design, and music are the same. It worked well for “The Decalogue” so we kept the same principle.
D i d y o u s t a rt e di t in g b e f o r e
Yes, I was editing during the shooting from
h a v in g c o m p le t e d s h oo t in g t h r ee f i l m s ?
the first week. I even edited during the breaks.
T h e m or e c o n c r et e a n d t a n g ib l e y ou r f il m s ar e , t h e m or e m e ta p h y si c a l t h e y
Of course I’d like to get beyond the concrete. But it’s really difficult. Very difficult.
s ee m t o b e c o m e . Y o u t a k e m o r e a n d m o re cl o s e- up s , y o u ’ r e ev e r n e a r e r to t h e ch a r ac te r s an d o bj e ct s : y ou s e e m t o b e s e a r c h i n g f or s o me t h in g b e y o n d t h e c o n c r e te o r t h e ph y s i c al . W h a t i s i t y o u ’ r e tr yi n g to ca pt u r e?
Perhaps the soul. In any case, a truth which I myself haven’t found. Maybe time that flees and can never be caught.
D o t h e n a m e s o f t h e ch a ra c t e r s
I tried to think of names which would be both
h av e a p a r t i cu l a r m e a n i n g ?
easy for the audience to remember and reflective of the character’s personalities. In real life, there are names that surprise us because they don’t seem to suit the person at all.
107
F o r “ T h e Do u b l e L i f e of V r on i qu e ” —
Later on I did, but not when I chose the name,
d i d y o u h av e V ro n iq ue f r o m t h e G o s p e l
and although it had been unconscious, it see-
i n mi n d ?
med like a good association to have made. For “Red,” I asked Irene Jacob what her favorite name was as a little girl. At the time, it was “Valentine.” So, I named her character Valentine. For “White,” I named the hero Karol (Charlie in Polish) as a tribute to Chaplin. This little man, who is both naive and shrewd, has a “chaplinesque” side to him.
“ T h e De ca l o gu e ” w as f u l l of c h a n c e
I like chance meetings – life is full of them.
me e t i n gs — so me o f t h e m f ai lu r e s
Everyday, without realizing it, I pass people
a n d so m e s u c ce s s f u l .
whom I should know. At this moment, in this
An d in “ T h r e e C o l o u rs ” , f r o m o n e f il m
cafe, we’re sitting next to strangers. Everyo-
t o a n o t h e r , pe op l e s e e m t o r u n i n to
ne will get up, leave, and go on their own way.
each other.
And they’ll never meet again. And if they do, they won’t realize that it’s not for the first time. In the trilogy, these encounters have less importance than in “A Short Film About Killing” in which the fact that the future killer and the lawyer fail to meet each other is key. In the trilogy, they’re included mainly for the pleasure of some cinephiles who like to find points of reference from one film to another. It’s like a game for them.
E a c h f il m h a s a sc e n e
I merely thought that old age awaits all of us
w i th a n e l de r l y pe rs o n t r y i n g t o p u t
and that one day we won’t have enough
t h e b o tt le i n t h e tr a s h ca n .
strength left to put a bottle in a container. In
W h a t d o es t h i s m e a n ?
“Blue,” to avoid having this scene seem moralistic, I over-exposed the image. I figured that this way Julie doesn’t see the woman, and doesn’t realize what lies ahead for herself. She’s too young. She doesn’t know that one day she’s going to need someone’s help. In “White” Karol smiles because he realizes this is the one person worse off than he is. In “Red”
108
we see something about Valentine’s compassion. V a l en t i ne k n o w s t he p r ic e of f r a t e r n it y
To tell you the truth, in my work, love is
a n d Ju l i e w i l l l ea rn to l o ve a g a i n .
always in opposition to the elements. It crea-
T h e s am e ca n be s a i d
tes dilemmas. It brings in suffering. We can’t
f o r K a r o l a n d D o m in i qu e .
live with it, and we can’t live without it. You’ll
E ve n w h e n y o u ’ r e t a lk i n g ab o u t li b e r t y
rarely find a happy ending in my work.
a n d f r a te r n i ty , l ov e i s th e f i n a l wo r d . Y et t h e s c r e e n p l a y f o r “R e d ” s e em s
You think so? For me optimism is two lovers
to s a y t h a t y o u b e l ie ve i n f r a t er n it y.
walking into the sunset arm in arm. Or maybe
A n d t h e e n d o f “ B l u e ” is o p t i m i s t ic
into the sunrise – whatever appeals to you.
si n c e J u l ie i s a b l e t o c r y.
But if you find “Blue” optimistic, then why not? Paradoxically, I think the real happy ending is in “White” which is, nevertheless, a black comedy.
A ma n wh o g o e s to vi s it
But they love each other! Would you rather
h is w if e i n p ri s on .
have the story finish with him in Warsaw and
Yo u ca l l t h at a h a p p y e n d i n g?
her in Paris – with both of them free but not in love?
T h e t h e m e of e q u a l i ty i s n ot ,
It can be found in different areas: between
a t f i rs t g l an c e ,
husband and wife, at the level of ambitions
ve r y ob v i o u s i n “ W h i te . ”
and in the realm of finance. “White” is more about inequality than equality. In Poland we say “Everyone wants to be more equal than everyone else.” It’s practically a proverb. And it shows that equality is impossible: it’s contradictory to human nature. Hence, the failure of Communism. But it’s a pretty word and every effort must be made to help bring equality about… keeping in mind that we won’t achieve it – fortunately. Because genuine equality leads to set-ups like concentration camps.
109
Yo u ’ v e l i v e d i n F r a n ce f o r a y e ar n o w .
No, because this film, like the other two, has
H as t h e ex p e r i en c e m od i f i e d y o u r
nothing to do with politics. I’m talking about
notion of liberty —
interior liberty. If I had wanted to talk about
h e n c e th e t en o r o f “B lu e ?”
exterior liberty – liberty of movement – I would have chosen Poland. Since things obviously haven’t changed there. Let’s take some stupid examples. With your passport, you can go to America. I can’t. With a French salary you can buy a plane ticket to Poland, but this would be impossible vice-versa. But interior liberty is universal.
“ Bl u e ” s e em s l i k e a c o n ti n u a t io n o f
Of course, because I’m always shooting the
“T h e Do u b l e L i fe o f V r o n iq u e, ” wh i c h
same film! There’s nothing original in that
i ts e lf p i ck s u p o n a n e le m en t f ro m
though. All filmmakers do the same, and aut-
“ D e c a l og u e 9” ( t h e ca r d i ac si n g er ) .
hors are always writing the same book. I’m
W e c ou l d g o o n a n d on E ac h f i l m s ee m s t o g i ve y o u a r o u g h
not talking about “professionals,” I mean authors. Careful, I said authors, not artists.
o ut l i n e f o r an o t h e r fi l m . Ea c h c o l or is s h ot i n a d i f f er e n t
The idea of a European film industry is com-
c ou n t r y. W a s t h i s ou t of d u ty to t h e
pletely artificial. There are good and bad
E u ro p e a n fi l m in d u st r y ?
films: that’s it. Take “Red” – we filmed in Switzerland for economic reasons – Switzerland is co-producing. But it’s not only that. We started thinking… Where would a story like “Red” take place? We thought of England, then Italy. Then we decided that Switzerland was perfect, mainly because it’s a country that wants to stay a bit off-center. The proof is the referendum concerning its connection to Europe. Switzerland leans towards isolation. It’s an island in the middle of Europe. And “Red” is a story of isolation.
I s it d i f fi c u l t t o s h oo t i n F r an c e
Of course, but I have no choice. Here I get
w i th o u t s p e a ki n g th e l a n g u a ge ?
financing. At the same time, it’s more interesting than working somewhere I know too well. It enriches my perspective. I’m discover-
110
ing a world that’s so different, a language that’s so complicated and rich! This is shown when I suggest – in Polish of course – a slight change in the dialogue. Everyone comes back at me, in France, with suggestions for twenty ways to change it. Y o u ’ v e cr e a t e d a E u r o p ea n s y m p h on y d u r in g y o u r t h r e e s h o o t s
As you may have gathered, we speak French, English, Polish, and German. We’ve created an atmosphere in which everyone is comfortable. I have no problem being with people of different nationalities.
D o y o u f ee l E u r op e a n ?
No. I feel Polish. More specifically, I feel like I’m from the tiny village in the Northeast of Poland where I have a house and where I love to spend time. But I don’t work there. I cut wood.
111
F arewell to a Friend
By Krzysztof Zanussi
116
I suppose that there are artists who have
stence, yet the secret is not solved-other-
completely exhausted and fulfilled them-
wise it would be just an illusion of a secret,
selves in their creation. Krzysztof Kieslo-
a misunderstanding by the artist who has
wski existed next to his creation, and the
falsely interpreted the subject of study.
body of his work cannot fill the void that
Krzysztof’s life makes one think about
has been left by his death. While still
what he has said in many of his films,
alive, Krzysztof pronounced that his work
perhaps most clearly in the last ones – that
was complete and, knowing him well, I
life, which goes on in a plane of palpable
had to take seriously his words that he
realty, is a string of various causes and
would not make any more films. Howe-
effects – yet in essence is incomprehen-
ver, that he is no longer here is a much
sible in such a plane. The “Three
bigger blow.
Colours” films (Blue, White, and Red)
Much time has passed since the fune-
disclose at the very end the mysterious
ral, yet it is not possible to accept this loss;
sense of those various fates tied together
each and every word spoken about him
by an accident, in the same way that an
becomes part of the eulogy, which should
accident connected the three versions of
never have been delivered-all of us who
the protagonist’s fate in Blind Chance.
were close to Krzysztof felt his stern oppo-
I remember Krzysztof from our years
sition to anything that could be constru-
at the film school; later we worked
ed as an attempt to formalize or explain
together at the same studio, “TOR.”
death, something which he knew was so
Eventually we more or less took turns
much larger than words could convey.
managing the studio’s affairs. Krzysztof
Especially a death that is so sudden, so
took my place in film production during
unneeded, and unnecessary, as though
the martial law instituted in 1981 by Gene-
wished out of silence and given a voice.
ral Jaruzelski, when I worked more in the
The unfortunate heart surgery could have
West.
been avoided, canceled, or postponed; it
Our friendship was too close for me to
did not have to be performed that exact
write about today, even from this per-
day and hour. It’s impossible to push
spective. I don’t think there will ever be
away the thoughts about what could have
a proper perspective, and time will not
been. And yet this exact thought haunted
create a distance between us because with
Krzysztof – the concept of chance and
time one does not achieve a distance from
fate, about what is necessary and inevita-
oneself – and in friendship there is this
ble, or what could have happened diffe-
element of becoming one with someone
rently. The concept of chance became the
else. When Krzysztof is not here, I feel
key to noticing life’s secret. Krzysztof’s
something in me is missing. During the
work has its greatest value in that it ratio-
filming of White I was on the set with my
nally and consciously discovers the key to
own camera, because I wanted Krzysztof
the secret. Krzysztof discovered its exi-
to say a few words for my television pro-
117
gram. I asked him what he thought about
drop-he was interested in human voice
life after death, about some existence in
and moral complications, the drama of
another world. He replied by recalling,
duty and weakness, the fight for human
without embarrassment, a very personal
dignity. And for his own, as well – for the
example – he remembered his parents
dignity of an artist, who would not be „for
who had been dead for a long time and
sale“ or would not allow himself to be
said, “For me, they are alive. With every
bought.
choice I think about what they would say,
At the end of the 1970s, Krzysztof beca-
whether they would approve my choice.
me a great authority in his professional
In my life, they are with me.” Krzysztof
circle, had developed a following, and had
and I used to differ on many matters, but
experienced success abroad; yet even in
on this one I can easily agree. Krzysztof is
his own mind he remained a local artist.
here even if apparently he is not.
Foreign critics felt that his view of the
If I wanted to describe Krzysztof in a
world was incomprehensible to interna-
way that one can describe even oneself
tional audiences: It was too Polish, too
(assuming that the description will be, to
leakproof, and not universal. Today we
a degree, unbiased), I think that I would
know this was not true. The same films,
first describe his freedom of spirit. Krzy-
almost 20 years later, are being sold and
sztof had a talent. And that is why he tried
shown and, it turns out, understood, even
to avoid life’s traps in his art. And a rat-
though these are very difficult times for
her bitter life it was. He had behind him
the film industry. For Krzysztof, the
a relatively late start in his profession, and
height of success came at a time when he
for many long years it seemed that he loo-
was no longer here.
ked at people and situations too closely to
At the end of the 1970s, Krzysztof did
be able to generalize. Looking back, we
not want to conquer the world. He accep-
see that it was a false illusion. From the
ted, without resistance, the restrictions
beginning, in everything he did, Krzysz-
placed on him-that he was understood
tof was honest with matter, obsessively
only in Poland – and he had no aspirati-
demanding truth – but only today, taking
ons to go somewhere farther, nor was he
into account his later films, is it visible
envious of others who were functioning
that all his works had the force of gene-
better in the world. He sensed, with
ralization. At the time, only the truth in
uncommon intuition, the plainness of the
them struck.
world – that drama everywhere is similar,
Later came the series of feature films,
if not the same. He had no fascination
such as No End (1984) – films that were
with zagranica (things that are foreign and
strongly and uncommonly rooted in rea-
desirable) because he paid no attention to
lity and so seemingly very political,
appearances. This is even more unusual
though again, looking back, it is clear that
since at that time he was „mute“; he spoke
for Krzysztof politics were just a back-
no foreign languages. In this he was like
118
Andrzej Munk. It was with great effort,
wing the artist was in disfavor [with the
even disgust, that he learned English in
government].
his late 40s. Krzysztof understood the
Unfortunately, the Solidarity side was
world without words. And he was of the
equally disappointed. Blind Chance was
opinion that he did not have to wrestle
filmed in black and white; it contained
with the „world“ as a challenge. Instead
neither the agitation nor that true sense
he felt that a world-renown career was
of suffering demanded by the opposition.
something left to fate, and later, when it
Instead, it had an uncommonly simple
happened (both during martial law and
metaphysical layer, a quality that is not
after), that it was just something that was
easily accepted in Polish tradition (our
supposed to happen.
country did not give birth to Georges Ber-
The martial law was for Krzysztof an
nanos or Paul Claudel), and religious
experience not so much political, as
thought in Polish art is more strongly
aesthetic and moral. For him, it was a time
influenced by Henryk Sienkiewicz than
of great disgust. Many people gained a
by Cyprian Norwid. The heroine’s hus-
chance to develop their worst traits. Krzy-
band in No End became the target of ridi-
sztof did not mince words, but he never
cule.
offended anyone for fun or out of
Perhaps I am being petty to mention
carelessness. During the martial law he
all this, but I know how much bitterness
used the word ryje (snouts) to describe
Krzysztof had to swallow after the relea-
those whose faces had lost their dignified
se of No End. And he reacted in a rather
features.
unusual manner – with the kind of cou-
It was at that time he made No End. It
rage he displayed when confronting his
is, to me, one of his most interesting films.
own illness: He did not take offense, did
And the most poorly received among cri-
not become introverted, did not jump
tics. A Communist Party secretary, after
into a whirlpool of arguments. Instead he
seeing the film, promised to make sure it
isolated himself for two years while
would get the worst possible review – and
making his Dekalog. No one could expect even for a
he kept his word. Not that poor reviews in the official
moment that the Dekalog would become
press were all that unpleasant. But at that
a hit on a global scale. As soon as the first
time there appeared, probably for the first
two episodes were finished, I, as produ-
time, a whole pack of small podgryzacze
cer, traveled to various TV stations, try-
(biters, or nitpickers), who accompanied
ing to arrange a deal: a broadcast in
Krzysztof until his death. It was common
exchange for negatives to finish filming
knowledge that his movie Blind Chance
the series. I have a whole stack of refu-
(1981) was on the shelf, thus the por-
sals. I show them today to young people,
gryzacze were all the more active, kno-
so they can learn about the deceitful cir-
119
cumstances that can decide the fate of an
self? Krzysztof was a man of honor. We
artist, and his creation.
used to make fun of a well-known Polish
Krzysztof could not acquire the nega-
colleague who made several such decla-
tive because the very subject, Dekalog,
rations and was back at work a year later.
seemed provincial and anachronistic to
The success was consummated. Krzy-
the contemporary TV decision-makers.
sztof had reached the highest status that
Later, these same decision-makers were
exists in European cinema, ranking with
buying the series at a much higher price.
such recent greats as Federico Fellini,
(Had this happened in a free market, they
Ingmar Bergman, or Luis Buñuel. Krzy-
would have certainly been kicked out of
sztof did not want to become his own pro-
work. But in Europe, public TV domina-
moter, like Michelangelo Antonioni did.
tes even to this day. And, by nature, mista-
He did not want to race against his own
kes go unpunished.)
fame. Kieslowski’s success was proof, fol-
Dekalog turned out to be a hit, shown
lowing the fall of Communism, that in a
during prime time – sold even today on
free country art reaches farther than
videocassettes. In the blink of an eye it
under a dictatorship; for the promoters of
made Krzysztof a renowned artist and
Marxism – in Poland as well as in Western
opened for him limitless possibilities for
Europe – such an example was rather
work. As though in a dream, producers
uncomfortable.
and sponsors lined up at his door in order
According to a proverb, no one can be
to obtain his further collaboration. The
a prophet in his own country. The more
Double Life of Véronique was produced,
famous he became around the world, the
and later the „Three Colours.“
more he was looked down upon in Poland
The last years of Krzysztof’s life were
– in a mean, filthy manner that defines
consumed with a personal fight for free-
Polish hell. Krzysztof was tired of the
dom in the face of this success – success
world, and he did not experience joy in
that came too late and was an unexpected
his own country. Did he suffer? Perhaps
complication. Krzysztof constantly tried
it is better said that he felt distaste,
to simplify his life. Meanwhile there came
distrust, and shame for the people who
festivals, honors, invitations – the entire
showed their mediocrity just to write
masquerade of show business with its
something disgusting. We had piles of
flashlights, interviews, and photographs.
those clippings in the studio. I would be
Few have hated this world more, while at
ashamed to look through them today,
the same time not being able to comple-
since there are known as well as unkno-
tely reject it. Eventually, however, the
wn names there.
rejection took place – a radical break.
When one considers that Krzysztof is
Krzysztof announced that he had had
no longer living, all of this becomes so tri-
enough and that he would not make any
vial and without meaning; perhaps now
more films. Blackmail – a trap set for him-
the curtain of mercy could be drawn over
120
all that is wasteful in Poland. I think this is what I would have done had I not remembered how Krzysztof himself used to call things by their name, sharply and without pardon. And he did this justly, not to be little, but to make others reflect upon what they were doing – why they were creating Polish hell and adding to the wrong of this world, the enormity of which is so great that one needs great love of people in order not to break down. And Krzysztof loved people very much. That is why he was rough and harsh with them. He saw how they were ruining their lives and wanted to save them from doing it. T r a n sl a te d b y H a n n a K a r c z e w s k i
121
F i l m o gra phy
126
Tramwaj The Tram 1966
Urzåd T h e O f fi c e 1966
Koncert Ÿycze~ Co n c e rt o f Re q ue st s 1967
Night. A boy runs and jumps on a tram. There are very few passengers: a worker on his way to work, a pretty girl. The boy, attracted to the girl, tries to make her laugh, then watches her fall asleep. He gets off at his stop but has second thoughts and, as in the first sequence, runs after the same tram where the girl sleeps.
The counter of a State-owned insurance office, a queue forms in front of the counter window and the employee repeats the question: ‘What have you done in your lifetime?’. A satire on the impenetrability of bureaucracy.
A coachful of rowdy youths stops by a lake. They drink, play football, generally fool around. One of the youths runs after the ball and sees a couple among the bushes. He stares, entranced by the girl, but the coach driver sounds his horn; it’s time to go. The coach leaves. The couple pack their bags and overtake the coach on their motorbike. The girl, sitting on the back of the bike, drops her backpack. The coach driver stops, picks it up. The couple turn back for the bag. The driver won’t hand them the bag unless the girl travels in the coach with the drunken youths. She’s ready to do so but peace is restored as the girl goes back to her boyfriend. The youth with the football wistfully watches the couple ride away.
D i r ec t or : Kr z ys z t o f K i e ‚l ow s k i S c r e e n p l ay : K. K i e‚ lo w sk i Cinematography: Z d zi s ¬a w K a c z m a r e k P r od u c ti o n c o m p a n y : fl ø d Ω F i l m Sc h o o l Cast: J e r z y Br a s z k a , M a r ia J an i e c
D ir ec t o r : K rz y sz to f K i e ‚ lo w s ki S c r e e n p la y : K. K i e ‚ l o w sk i Cinematography: L e c ho s ¬ a w T r z ™ s o w s k i Pr o d u ct i o n c o m pa n y: fl ø dΩ F i lm Sc h o o l Documentary 3 5 m m b l a c k a n d w hi t e 6 mins
S h o rt F e a t u r e 3 5 m m b l a c k a n d w hi t e 5 m i ns 45 se c s
D i re c to r : K r z y s z t o f K i e ‚l o w s k i S c re e np l a y : K . K ie ‚ lo w s k i Cinematography: Le ch o s l a w T r z™ s ow s k i E d i t o r: J a n i n a G r os i c ka P r o d u c t i o n c o m p a n y: flø d Ω Fi l m S c h o o l S h or t Fe a tu r e 35 mm b la c k a nd w h i t e 17 mi n s
127
Zdj™cie T h e P ho t og r a p h 1968
Z Miasta flodzi F r o m th e C i t y o f fl ød Ω 1969
By¬em Ÿolnierzem I W as a S o l d i e r 19 70
An old photograph of two little boys, wearing soldiers’ hats and holding rifles. The camera goes in search of these two boys, now grown men, and registers their emotion as they are confronted with the photograph.
“A portrait of a town where some people work, others roam around in search of Lord knows what… A town which is full of eccentricities, full of all sorts of absurd statues and various contrasts… full of ruins, hovels, recesses.” Krzysztof Kie‚lowski
A documentary “about men who had been soldiers and lost their sight in the Second World War… The soldiers just sit there, in front of the camera, throughout the film, and talk.” Krzysztof Kie‚lowski
D i re c t o r : Kr z y s z t o f Ki e ‚l o w sk i C i n e m a t og r a p hy : M a r e k J o Ω w i a k Ed i t o r : N i u s ia C i u c ka P r o du c t i o n c o m p a n y: P ol i s h T e l e vi s i o n Documentary 1 6 m m b l a c k a n d w hi t e 3 2 m i ns
D i r ec t or : Kr z ys z t o f K i e ‚l ow s k i Cinematography: J a nu sz Kr ec z m a ~ sk i , Pi o t r K w i a t ko w sk i , St an i st a w N ie d b a ls k i Ed i t o r : E l ÿ bi e t a K u r ko w s k a , L i d i a Zo n n So u nd : K ry s ty n a P oh o r e c k a Pr od u ct i o n m a n a ge rs : St an i s¬ aw A b r a nt o wi c z , A nd r z e j C yl wi k Pr od u c ti o n co m p an y : W F D Documentary 3 5 m m b l a c k a n d w hi t e 1 7 m i n s 2 1 s ec s
128
D i re c to r : K r z y s z t o f Ki e ‚l o w s k i S c re e np l a y : K . K i e‚ lo w s k i , Ry s z a r d Z gø r e c k i Cinematography: S ta n i s¬ a w N ie d b a ls k i Pr o d u c ti o n c o m pa n y : C zo ¬ øw k a Documentary 35 m m b la c k a n d w h i te 16 m i n s
Fabryka Factory 1970
Przed Rajdem B ef o r e t he R a ll y 1971
Refren Refrain 1972
A working day in the Ursus tractor factory. Shots of workers alternate with those of a management board meeting. The factory cannot meet its production quota because there is a shortage of equipment, parts, and so on. Papers are sent out, licences are applied for, numerous meetings held, but there seems to be no way out of the vicious network of misunderstandings and bureaucracy – the left hand doesn’t know what the right is doing. As one of the board members says: ‘the bureaucracy in this country hampers any solution’. Yet the workers still have to meet their quota.
Ten days of preparation for the Monte Carlo rally. The two Polish drivers battle with the technical shortcomings of the Polish Fiat 125. They did not finish the race. An allegory of the country’s industrial and economic problems.
Documentary about the bureaucracy involved in funerals. Grief and emotions are tumed into numbers and a pile of papenvork. Then children are born. And so it goes on and on.
D i r ec t o r : Kr z ys z t o f K i e ‚l ow s ki C i n e m a t o g r a ph y: S ta n i s¬ a w N i e d b a l sk i , J a c ek T w or ek E d i to r: M ar ia L e s z cz y ~s ka S o u nd : M a l g o r za t a J a wo r s k a P rod u c t i o n m a na g e r : H a l in a K a w e c k a P r od u c t i o n c o m p a n y: W F D
D ir e c to r : Kr z ys z t o f Ki e ‚l o w s k i C i n e m a to g r ap h y: P io t r Kw ia tk ow s ki , J a c e k Pe t r y c ki Editor: Lidia Zonn S o u n d : Ma ¬g o r za t a J a w o rs k a Pr o d u c ti o n m a n a g e r : W a l d e m a r K o w a l sk i Pr o d u c ti o n c o m pa n y : W F D Documentary 35 m m b l a c k a n d w h it e / c ol o u r 15 m i n s 9 s e c s
Documentary 3 5 m m b l a c k a n d w hi t e 1 7 m in s 1 4 s e c s
129
Di r e c t o r: K rz y sz t o f K i e ‚l o w s ki C i n e m a t o gr a p h y : W i t o l d S to k E d i t o r: M a r y l a Cz o ¬n i k S o u n d : M a ¬g o r za t a J a w o r s k a , M i c ha ¬ Ÿ a r n ec k i Pr o d u c t i o n m a n a g e r : Wa l d e m a r K o w a l sk i P ro d u c t i o n c o m p a n y : WF D Documentary 35 m m b la c k a nd w h i te 10 m i n s 1 9 s ec s
Mi™dzy Wroc¬awiem A Zielonå Gørå B et w ee n W ro c l a w a n d Z i e lo n a Gora 1972
Podstawy BHP W Kopalni Miedzi Th e P ri n c i p le s o f s a fty a n d H y gi e ne i n a Co p p e r Mi n e 1972
Robotnicy ’71: Nic O Nas Bez Nas W o rk e r s ’ 7 1 : no t h i ng a b o u t us w i th o u t u s 1972
A commissioned film about the Lubin copper mine.
Commissioned film about the conditions of safety and hygiene in the Lubin copper mine.
Filmed after the strikes of December 1970 and the downfall of Gomutka, the film “was intended to portray the workers’ state of mind in 1971. We tried to draw a broad picture showing that the class which, theoretically at least, was said to be the ruling class, had somewhat different views from those which were printed on the front page of the Trybuna Ludu.” (Krzysztof Kie‚lowski) The film was later re-edited by Polish Television and shown, without credits, as Masters (Gospodarze).
D i r ec t o r : K r z y sz to f K i e ‚ l o w s k i C i ne m a t og r a p h y : J a c e k P e t r y c k i Ed i t o r : Li di a Z o nn S o u nd : A n d r z e j Bo h d an o w i c z P r o du c ti o n m a n a g e r : Je rz y H er m a n P r o du c ti o n c o m p a n y : W F D, c o m mi s s i o n e d b y L u b i n C o p pe r M i n e Documentary 35 mm colour 1 0 m i ns 3 5 s e c s
D i r e ct or : Kr z y s z t o f Ki e ‚ l ow s k i C i n e ma t o g r a ph y : J a c e k P et r yc k i E d i to r : L id i a Z o nn S o u n d : A nd r z e j B o hd a n o w ic z P r od u c t i o n m a na g e r : J e r zy He r m a n P r o d u c t i o n c o m p an y : W FD , c o m m i ss i on e d by L u bi n C o pp e r M i n e Documentary 35 mm c o lo u r 20 m i n s 3 9 s ec s
D i re c to r s : K r z y s z to f Ki e ‚ l o w s k i , T o m a s z Z y ga d ¬ o, Wo j ci e c h W i sz ni e w s k i, P a w e ¬ K ™d z i er s k i , T a d eu s z W a le n d ow s k i C in e ma t o g ra p h y : Wi t o l d S t o k , S t a n i s ¬a w M r o z i u k , J a c ek Petrycki So u nd : J a c e k Sz ym a ~ sk i , A li n a Hojnacka E d i t o r s : L i d ia Z o n n , M a r y l a C zo l n i k , Jo a nn a D o r o z y n s k a , Da n i e l a Ci e p li ~ sk a Pr o d u c t io n m a na g e r s: M i r o s¬ aw P o d o ls ki , W o j c i ec h S z c z ™ sn y , T o m a sz Go ¬ ™ b i ew s ki P r o d u c t i o n c o m pa n y: W F D Documentary 1 6 mm b la ck a n d w h i t e 46 mi n s 3 9 s e c s
130
Murarz Bricklayer 1973
Przej‚cie Podziemne P e d e s tr i a n S u bw a y 1973
Przeswietlenie X-Ray 1974
Documentary about a bricklayer who, during the Stalinist era, was encouraged by the Party to become an exemplary worker and further the Communist cause. A young activist, he was promoted and, he says, “I became a jack-in-office, instead of an activist… I got a desk job and gasped for breath, I had to let in fresh air through the window… And then came the year I956 and everything tumbled down all of a sudden. It was a little painful. The question was: What now? And in 1956 I asked them to relieve me and send me back to my job in production. I returned where I had come from.” The camera follows the bricklayer – a man whose life has been used up by ideological powers above him – during a May Day parade, alternating with scenes from his daily life.
A woman has left her teaching job in a small town where she used to live and works as a shop decorator in a pedestrian subway in Warsaw. Her husband comes looking for her in the hope that she will return to him.
Patients suffering from tuberculosis speak of their fears and of their wishes to return to a normal life.
D i r ec t or : K r z y sz to f Ki e ‚ l ow s k i C i ne ma t o g ra ph y : W it o l d S t o k Ed i t o r : L i di a Z o n n S o u nd : M a ¬ g o r za t a J a wo r s k a P rod u c t i o n m a na g e r : To m as z G o ¬™ b i e w s k i P r od u c ti o n c o m p a n y : W F D
D ir ec to r: Kr z ys z t o f K i e ‚l o w s k i S c r e e n p la y : Ir e n e us z I re d y ~s ki , K rz y s z to f K i e ‚ l o w s ki Cinematography: S l aw o m i r Id z i ak So u nd : M a ¬g o r za t a J aw o r s k a P r o d u c t i o n c o m pa n y : Po l i s h T el e v i si o n Cast: T e r e s a B u d zi s z- K r ÿ y z a n ow s k a , A nd r z ej S ew e r yn , A n n a J a r a c zø w n a , Z y g mu nt M a c i e je w s k i , J a n O r sz a- flu k a s z ew i c z , J a n us z Skalski T V D r a ma 35 m m b l a c k a n d w h i te 30 mins
Documentary 35 mm colour 1 7 m in s 3 9 s e c s
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Di r e c t o r : K r z y s z t o f K i e ‚ lo w s k i Ci n e ma t o g r a p h y : Ja ce k P e t r y c k i E d i to r : L i d i a Z o nn So un d : M i c h a ¬ Ÿa r n e c ki P r o d u c t i o n m an a ge r : J e r zy T o ma s z e w icz Documentary 3 5 mm c o lo u r 13 mi n s 3 s e c s
Pierwsza Mi¬o‚ç F i r s t Lo v e 1974
Ÿyciorys C u r r i cu lu m v it a e 1975
Personel Personnel 1975
The camera follows a young unmarried couple during the girl’s pregnancy, through their wedding, and the delivery of the baby.
A Party Control Committee crossexamines a Party member threatened with expulsion from the Party. The life-story of the accused is a fictional onealthough the man playing the role had experienced something similar in his own life – while the Party Control Committee is real. As the meeting progresses, the Control Committee begins to believe in the authenticity of the case and gives the accused its professional inquisitorial treatment.
Romek, a sensitive and forthright young man fascinated with the magic of art, comes to the opera to work as a tailor. Gradually as he is confronted with the reality behind the scenes – the bickering, petty jealousies, vindictiveness and corruption – his illusions shatter. The film ends with Romek sitting in front of a blank sheet of paper on which he is to denounce his friend, a fellow tailor who was sacked through the maliciousness of one of the performers.
D i r ec t o r : K r z y sz to f Ki e ‚ l o w s k i C i ne ma t og ra p hy : Ja c e k P et ry c k i Ed i to r : L id i a Z o nn So u nd : M a ¬ go r za t a J a w or sk a , M i c h a ¬ Ÿ a r ne c ki P r o du c t i o n c o m p a ny : P ol i s h T e le vi s i o n T V D o c u m en t a ry 16 mm colour 30 mins
D i re c t or : Kr z y s z t o f Ki e ‚l ow s k i S c re e np l a y : J a n u s z F a st y n , K r z y s zt o f K ie ‚ l o w s ki Cinematography: J a c e k Pe tr y c k i , T a d eu sz R u s i n e k E d i t o r : L id i a Z o n n S o u nd : Sp a s Ch ri s t ow Pr od u c ti o n m a n a ge r: M a r e k S z o p i ~s k i Pr od u c ti o n c o m p an y : WFD D r a m a D oc u m e n ta ry 3 5 m m b l a c k a n d w hi t e 45 mi n s 1 0 s e c s
Di r e c to r: K r z ys z t o f K i e ‚l o w s ki S c r e e n p la y : K. K i e ‚ l o w sk i C in e ma to g r a p h y : W i to l d St o k Ed i to r : L id i a Z o nn Ar t i st i c d i r e ct o r : T a d eu s z K o z a r e w ic z C os t u me s : I za b e ll a K o n a r z ew s k a Pr o d u c er : Zb i gn i ew St a n e k Pr o d u ct i o n c o m pa n y: P o l is h T el ev i s i o n an d T o r P r od u c t i o n H o u se C as t: J u l i u s z M a c hu ls ki , I re na L o r e n to w i c z , W ¬ o d z i m i e r z Bo r u ns k i , M i c ha ¬ T a r ko w s k i , To m a s z L e n g r e n, A n d r z e j S i e d l e c k i , T o m a s z Z y ga d ¬ o, J a nu sz S k a l s k i TV D ra ma 1 6 m m c o l o ur 72 mi n s
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Szpital Hospital 1976
Klaps Slate 1976
Blizna Th e S ca r 1976
The camera follows orthopaedic surgeons on a 32-hour shift. Instruments fall apart in their hands, the electrical current keeps breaking, there are shortages of the most basic materials, but the doctors persevere hour after hour, and with humour.
A compilation of footage from The Scar not used in the final cut of the feature film.
1970. After discussions a decision is taken to built a large new chemical factory. Bednarz, an honest Party man, is put in charge of the construction. He used to live in the small town where the factory is to be built, and he has unpleasant memories of it. But he sets to the task in the belief that he will build a place where people will live and work well. His intentions conflict with those, who are primarily concerned with their short-term needs. Disillusioned, Bednarz gives up his post.
D i r ec t or : Kr z y sz t o f Ki e s l ow ‚ k i C i ne ma t o g r a ph y : Ja c e k P et ry c k i E d i to r : L i di a Z o nn So u nd : M i c h a ¬ Ÿ a r ne c ki P r od u c t i o n m a na ge r : R y s z a r d W r ze s i~ s k i P r od u c t i o n c o m p a n y: W FD
D ir e c to r : Kr z y s z t o f Ki e ‚l o w s k i Cinematography: Sl aw o m i r I d z i ak S o u n d : Mi c h a¬ Ÿ a rn e c k i 35 mm c o lo u r 6 mins
D i re c to r : K r z y s z t o f K i e ‚l o w s k i S c re e np l a y : K . K ie ‚ lo w s k i , b a se d on a st o r y b y Ro m u a ld Kara‚ D i a l og ue : R om u a l d K a r a ‚, K r z y sz to f K i e ‚ l o w s k i C in e m a t o gr a p h y : S l a wo m i r Idziak E d i to r : K r y s t y na G ør ni c k a Ar t d i r ec t or : An d r ze j P¬ o c k i So u n d : M i c ha ¬ Ÿa r n e c ki M u s i c : St a n i s¬ a w R a d w an Pr o d u c er : Z b i gn i ew S t a n e k Pr o d u c t i o n c o m p a n y: T o r Ca s t : F ra n c i sz ek Pi e c z ka ( B e d n a r z ) , Ma ri u sz Dm o c ho w s ki , J e r zy S tu hr , J a n S ko t n i ck i , St a n i s ¬ a w I g ar , S ta n is ¬a w M i c h al sk i , M ic h a ¬ T a r k o w sk i , H a l i n a W i ni a r s k a , J o a n n a Or z e c ho w s k a, Ag n i e s z k a H o l la n d , M a ¬ go rz a ta Le ‚n ie w sk a , As i a La m t i u g i na
Documentary 3 5 m m b la c k a n d w hi t e 2 1 m in s 4 s e c s
Feature 3 5 m m c o l o ur l0 4 m i ns
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Spokøj T h e Ca l m 1976
Z P u n k t u W i d z e n i a N o c n e g o Po r t i e r a F r o m a N i g ht Po r t e r ’s Po i n t o f Vi e w 1977
Nie Wiem I D o n’ t Kn o w 1977
Antek Gralak has just been released from prison. He leaves his home town of Krakøw and sets to work on a building site in Silesia. All he wants are the simple things in life: work, somewhere clean to sleep, something to eat, a wife, television and peace. Anxious to avoid conflicts and happy to be alive and free, he is friendly with his colleagues and grateful to his employer. He finds a girl, marries, but conflicts at work prove inevitable. Building materials disappear and Gralak’s boss is involved in the theft. A strike breaks out among the builders. Torn between the two sides his boss and his colleagues – and longing for peace, Gralak turns up for work. The builders believe he has grassed and beat him up as he mutters ‘Calm… calm.’
Portrait of a factory porter, a fanatic of strict discipline, who extends his power even into his personal life as he tries to control everybody and everything in the belief that “rules are more important than people… That means that when a man doesn’t obey the rules,” he says, “you could say he’s a goner… Children also have to conform to the rules and adults who live on this earth, for whom this beautiful world has been created. I reckon you’ve got to have capital punishment… Simply hang him [the culprit]. Publicly. Tens, hundreds of people would see it.”
“The confession of a man who was the director of a factory in Lower Silesia. He was a Party member but opposed the Mafia-like organization of Party members which was active in that factory or region. Those people were stealing and debiting the factory account. He didn’t realize that people higher up were involved in the affair. And they finished him off”, says Krzysztof Kieslowski. “Was I right? I don’t know!” the man concludes.
D i r ec t o r : Kr z ys z t o f K i e ‚l o w sk i S c re e np l a y : K . K i e ‚ lo w s k i , b a se d o n a s t o r y b y L e c h B o rs k i D i a lo gu e: K r z y sz t o f K i e ‚ lo w s k i , Je rz y S t u h r C i ne m a t og r a p h y : J a c e k P et r y c ki E d i t o r : M a r y la S z y m a~ s ka A rt d i r e c t o r : R a f a ¬ W a l te nb e r g e r So u nd : W ie s ¬a w J u r g a ¬a M u si c : P i ot r F ig i e l P r o du c e r : Z . R o m an to w sk i P r o du c ti o n c o m p a n y : P ol i s h T e l e vi s i o n C a st : J en y St uh r , I z a be l l a O ls z e w sk a , Je n y T re la …
D i r ec t or : K rz y sz to f K i e ‚ l ow s ki C i ne m a t o g r a ph y : W i t ol d S to k E d i t o r : L id i a Z o n n S o u n d : Wi e sl a w a De m b i ~ s k a , M i c h a ¬ Ÿa r n e c k i M u s i c : W o j c i e c h K i la r P r o d u c t i o n m a na g e r : W o j c ie c h K a pc z y ~ s ki P r od u c t i o n c o m p an y: W F D Documentary 3 5 mm c o lo u r 16 mi n s 5 2 s ec s
TV Drama 1 6 m m c o lo u r 4 4 m i ns
134
Di r e c t o r : K r z y s z t o f Ki e ‚ lo w s k i C in e ma t o g r a p h y : J a c e k P e t r y c k i E d i to r : L i d i a Z o nn S o u n d : M i c h a¬ Ÿ ar n e c k i P r o d u c t i o n m a n a ge r s : R y s z a r d Wr z es i ~ s k i , Wo j c i e ch K ap c z y ~ s ki P r o d u c t i o n c o m pa n y : W F D Documentary 35 mm b la c k a n d w h i t e 46 mi n s 2 7 s ec s
Siedem Kobiet W Røÿnym Wieku S e v en W o m en o f D i f fe r e n t A g e s 1978
Amator C a me r a Bu f f 1979
Dworzec Station 1980
Episodes in which each day of the week shows a ballerina of classical dance at work or in rehearsal; but the ages of the dancers vary from the smallest child taking her first steps in ballet to the eldest ballerina who is now a ballet teacher.
Filip Mosz buys himself an 8 mm camera to record the first years of his new baby. He becomes fascinated and his interests turn to filming subjects other than his family. In the factory where he works, his bosses appoint him their official chronicler. His films win prizes at amateur contests and he wants to record reality as it really is and not as it is officially reported to be. At his factory he is confronted with censorship: the management believe a documentary portrait of a disabled worker to be a discredit to their factory. Meanwhile his wife, despising the time and commitment Mosz dedicates to his films, leaves him. Mosz opens his cans of film, exposing them to light. He turns the camera on himself.
Warsaw’s Central Railway Station. “Someone has fallen asleep, someone’s waiting for somebody else. Maybe they’ll come, maybe they won’t. The film is about people like that, people Icoking for something.” says Krzysztof Kie‚lowski. Overhead video ‘spy’ cameras watch over the station.
D i re c t or : Kr z y s z t o f Ki e ‚l ow s k i C i n e m a to g r a ph y : W it o l d St o k E d i to r : A l i n a S i e mi ~ sk a , L i d i a Z on n S o u n d : Mi c h a ¬ Ÿ a rn e c k i P r od u c ti o n c o m p a n y : W F D Documentary 3 5 m m b l a c k a n d w hi t e 1 6 m in s
D ir e c to r : Kr z y s z t o f Ki e ‚l o w s k i S c re e np l a y : K . K i e‚ lo w s k i D ia l o gu e : K r zy s zt o f K i e ‚ l o w sk i, J e r zy St u h r C i ne ma t o g ra p h y : Ja c e k P et ry c k i Ed i to r : H a l in a N a w r o c ka A r t d i r ec t o r : R a f a l W a l t e nb e rg e r S o u n d : M i c h a¬ Ÿ a r n e c k i M u s i c: K r z y s zt o f K ni t t e l P r o d u c er : W i e li s ¬ aw a P i o t ro w s k a Pr o d u c ti o n c o m pa n y : T o r C a s t : J e r z y S t u h r , M a ¬g o r z a t a Z å bk ow s k a , E w a P o k a s , S t ef a n C zy ÿ e w sk i , Je r z y N o w a k , T a d e u sz B r a d ec k i , M ar ek L i te w k a , K r z ys zt of Z a n u s s i Feature 35 mm colour 11 2 m i ns
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Di r e c t o r : K r z y sz to f K i e ‚ lo w s k i Ci n e m a t o g ra p h y : W i t o l d S t o k Editor: Lidia Zonn S o u n d : M i ch a ¬ Ÿ a r n e c k i Pr o d u c ti o n m an a g e r : Le ch G r a b i~ sk i Pr o d u c t io n c o mp a n y : WF D Documentary 35 m m b l a c k a nd w h i te 1 3 m i n s 2 3 s ec s
Gadajåce G¬owy Ta l k i ng H e a d s 1980
Przypadek B l i nd C h a n c e 1981
Krøtki Dzie~ Pracy Sh o r t W o r k i n g D a y 1981
Seventy-nine Poles, aged seven to 100, answer three questions: When were you born? What are you? What would you like most?
Witek runs after a train. Three variations follow on how such a seemingly banal incident could influence the rest of Witek’s life. One: he catches the train, meets an honest Communist and himself becomes a Party activist. Two: while running for the train he bumps into a railway guard, is arrested and sent to unpaid labour in a park where he meets someone from the opposition. He, in turn, becomes a militant member of the opposition. Three: he simply misses the train, meets a girl from his studies, returns to his interrupted studies, marries the girl and leads a peaceful life as a doctor unwilling to get mixed up in politics. He is sent abroad with his work. In mid-air, the plane he is on explodes.
“It’s a critical film about a Party Secretary in a pretty large town 100 kilometres from Warsaw. Rebellions and strikes started up in 1976 because of price rises. A large protest broke out which ended with the people setting fire to the regional Party Committee headquarters. At almost the last moment, the Secretary fled the building. He tried to stay right up to the end but when the furniture started getting hot, the police, with help from their informers, somehow managed to get him out.” Krzysztof Kie‚lowski
D i r ec t o r: Kr z ys z t o f K i e ‚l o w sk i C i n e m a t og r a p h y: J a c e k P e t r y c k i , P i o tr K w i a tk o w s k i E d i t o r : A l in a Si e m i ~ s k a So u n d : M i c h a ¬ Ÿ a r n e c ki P r o du c t i o n m a na ge r : L e c h G r a b i ~s k i P r o du c t i o n c o m p a n y: W F D Documentary 3 5 m m b l a c k a n d w hi t e 15 mins 32 secs
D ir e ct or : Kr z y s z t o f Ki e ‚ l ow s k i S cr e e np l a y : K . K i e‚ lo w s k i C i ne ma t o g ra p h y : K r zy s z t o f Pa k u ls ki E d i t o r: E lÿ bi e t a K ur k o w s ka A r t d i r e c t o r : R a f a ¬ Wa l t e nb e rg e r Sound: Micha¬ Ÿarnecki Mu si c : W o j c i e c h K i la r Pr od u c er : J a c ek S z el ig o w sk i Pr od u c ti o n c o m p an y : T o r C a s t : B o gu st a w L i n d a , Ta d eu s z fl o mn ic k i , Bo g us ¬ a w a P a w e l e c , Z b ig n i e w Z a pa s i ew i c z , J a c e k B or k o w s ki , A d a m F e r e nc y , Ja ce k Sa s - Uc h r y n o ws k i , M a r z e n a T r y b a ¬a , I re na B u r s k a , … Feature 35 m m c o l o u r 17 mins
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Di r e c t o r : K rz y sz t o f K i e ‚l o w s ki S c r e e n p la y : K. K i e ‚ l o w sk i , based on a report by Hanna K r a l l ‘V i e w fr o m a F i r st Fl o o r W i n do w ’ ( ‘ W i d o k z o k na n a p i er w s z ym p i ™ t r ze ’ ) C in e ma t o g ra p h y : K r zy s z t o f Pakulski E d i t o r : E lÿ b i e t a K u rk o w s k a So u nd : M i c h a¬ Ÿ ar n e c k i M us i c : J a n K a n t y Pa w l u ‚ k i e w i c z P ro d u c er : Ja ce k S ze li g o w sk i Pr o d u c ti o n c o m pa n y : Po l is h T el ev i si o n C as t : Wa c l a w Ul ew i c z Feature 35 mm c o lo u r 79 m i n s 2 2 s ec s
Bez Ko~ca No End 1984
Siedem Dni W Tygodniu Se v en Da y s a W e e k 1988
Krøtki Film O Zabijaniu A S ho r t F i l m a b o u t K i l l i ng 1988
The ghost of a young lawyer observes the world as it is after martial law. Three motifs interweave. A worker accused of being an activist with the opposition and whom the young lawyer was to defend, is now being defended by an older colleague who is resigned to a degree of compromise. The lawyer’s widow realizes now how much she loved her husband and tries to come to terms with her emptiness. And there’s the metaphysical element, “that is, the signs which emanate from the man who’s not there anymore, towards all that he’s left behind.” Krzysztof Kie‚lowski
One of a cycle of films made about cities by various directors. Warsaw. Monday to Saturday, each day shows a fragment of the life of a different person. Sunday all six are reunited at supper; they are all members of one family.
A youth randomly, and brutally, murders a taxi-driver. Piotr has just passed his law exams and been admitted to the bar. He is to defend Jacek, the young murderer. There is no evidence for the defence and no apparent motive. Jacek is put on trial, found guilty and executed by hanging. Piotr, after his first case, is left with the bitter doubt – does the legal system, in the name of the people, have the right to kill in cold blood?
D i r ec t or : K rz y sz t o f K i e ‚l ow s ki S c r e e n p l ay : K. K i e s l o w sk i , K r z ys zt o f P ie s i ew i c z C i ne m a t o g ra p h y : J a c e k P et r y c k i Ed i t o r : K r y s t y na R ut ko w sk a A r t d i re c to r : A l la n St a r s k i Sound: Micha¬ Ÿarnecki M u s i c : Z b i g n i e w P r ei s ne r P ro d u c e r : Ry s z a r d C hu t ko w s k i P r od u c ti o n c o m p a n y : T o r C a s t: G ra ÿ y na S z a p o ¬ o w sk a , M a r i a Pa k u ln i s, A l e k s an d er B a r d in i, J e r zy Ra d zi w i ¬ ¬ o w i c z, A rt ur Ba rc i ‚ , M i c h a ¬ B a j o r, M a r e k K on d r a t , T a d e u s z B r a d ec k i , D a ni e l W eb b , K r z ys zt o f K rz e m i ~ s ki , M ar z e n a T yb a ¬a , A d a m F er e n c y , Je rz y K am a s, J a n T e s a r z
D ir ec t o r : K rz y sz to f K i e ‚ lo w s ki C i ne m a t o g r ap h y : J a c e k P e t r y c k i Ed i t o r : D o r o ta W a r d u sz k i ew i c z So u nd : M i c h a¬ Ÿ a r ne c ki M u si c : F ry d e r y k C h op i n Pr o d u c t i o n m a na g e r : Ja c e k P e t ry c k i Pr o d u c ti o n c o m pa n y : C i t y L i f e, Ro tt e r d a m Documentary 35 mm c o lo u r 18 m i n s
Di r e c t o r : K r z y sz t o f K i e ‚ lo w s k i Sc r e e np l a y : K . K ie ‚ lo w s ki , K r z y sz to f P i e s i e w i c z Cinematography: Sl a w o m i r I d z ia k E d i to r : E w a S m a l Ar t d i r ec t or : H al i na D o b r o wo l s k a S o u n d : M a ¬g o r za t a J a w o r s k a M us i c : Z bi g n i e w Pr e i s n e r P r o d u c er : R y s za r d C h u t ko w sk i Pr o d u c ti o n c o mp a n y : To r a n d P o l i sh T e l e v i s i on (f or t he te l e v i si o n v e r si o n , De c a l o g u e 5) C a s t : M i r o s ¬a w Ba ka , K rz y sz t o f G l ob i s z, J an T e s a r z , Z bi g ni e w Z a p a s ie w ic z , B a r b a r a D zi e k a n Wa j d a , A l ek s a nd e r B e d n a r z, J e r zy Z a s s , Z d z i sl a w To b i as z , A r t u r B a r c i‚ , K r y st y na J a n d a , O l g i e r d flu ka s z e w icz Feature 35 mm co lo u r 85 mins
Feature 3 5 m m c o lo u r 1 0 7 m in s
137
Krøtki Film O Mi¬o‚ci A Sh o r t F i l m a b ou t L o v e 1988
Dekalog 1 D e c a l og ue 1 1988–1989
Dekalog 2 De c a lo g ue 2 1988–1989
Tomek, a young post office worker, is obsessed with Magda, the promiscuous woman who lives in the tower block opposite. He spies on her through a telescope and finally declares his love. She initiates him into the basic fact of life there is no love, only sex. Tomek, shattered, tries to commit suicide but doesn’t succeed. When he returns from hospital, it is Magda who becomes obsessed with him.
Krzysztof introduces his small son, Pawel, to the mysteries of the personal computer, a machine which he believes to be infallible. It is winter. Pawel, anxious to try out his new pair of skates, asks his father if he can go out to the local pond which has just frozen over. They consult the computer; the ice will hold the boy’s weight; he can go. Pawel doesn’t come home. There was a freak local thaw; the computer was wrong; Pawel drowned. Krzysztof runs to the church in protest and despair, falls against an altar. Candle wax splashes over the face of the Black Madonna and dries on her cheeks as tears.
Dorota visits Andrzej, her dying husband, in hospital. She is pregnant – this might be the last chance for her to have a baby – but not by him. She asks the Consultant in charge of her husband’s case, whether Andrzej will die. If he lives, she will have to have an abortion; if he dies, she can have the child. How can the doctor decide the life or death of an unborn child? How can he be certain whether his patient will die or miraculously recover? He tells Dorota that her husband doesn’t have a chance; but Andrzej recovers. Dorota tells Andrzej that they are going to have a baby; he thinks it’s his.
D i re c t o r : Kr z y s z t o f Ki e ‚l o w sk i Sc r e e np l a y : K . K i e ‚ lo w s k i , K r zy s z t of P i es i ew i c z C i n e m a t og r a p hy : W i to l d A da m ek Ed i t o r : Ew a S m al A r t d i r e ct o r : Halina Dobrowolska S o u nd : N ik od e m W o ¬k - fl a n i e w s k i M u si c : Z b i gn i e w P re i s n e r P r o du ce r: R ys za r d C h ut k o w s k i P r o du c ti o n c o m p a ny : To r a n d Po l i s h Te le v i si o n (f o r t h e t el ev i si o n v e r si o n , D ec a l o g ue 6 ) C a st : G r a i y na S za p o ¬ o w s k a , Ol a f L u b a s ze n k o , St e f a n i a Iw i ~ sk a ( G o d mo t h e r) , Ar t ur B a r c i ‚ , S t a ni s ¬ a w G a w li k , P i o t r M a c h al i c a , R a f a ¬ I m b ro , J a n P ie c h o c i~ s ki , M a ¬ go r z a t a R oÿ n ia t ow s k a , M. C h o j n a c k a , T . G r a do w s k i , K. K o p er sk i , J. M i c h a le w s k a , E . Zi ø ¬k ow s k a Feature 35 mm colour 8 7 m i ns
D i r ec t or : Kr z ys z t o f K i e ‚l ow s k i S c r e e n p la y : K. K i e‚ lo w sk i, Kr zy s zt o f P ie s ie w i c z C i ne m a t o g r a ph y : W i e s l a w Z d o rt E d i t o r: E w a Sm a l Art director: H a li n a D o b r o w o l sk a S o u n d : M a l g o rz a t a J aw o r s k a M u s i c: Z b i g n ie w Pr ei s ne r Pr od u c er : R y s z a r d C hu tk o w s k i P r od u c t i o n c o m p an y: P o l i s h T el ev i s i o n C a st : H e nr y k B a r a n o w s k i , W o j c i e c h K la t a , M a j a Ko m o r o w sk a , A r t ur Ba r c i ‚ , M a r i a G ¬ a d k o w sk a , E w a K a n i a , A le ks a n dr a K i si e l e w sk a , Al e k s a n d r a M a j si u k, M a g d a Sr og a - M i k o ¬a j c zy k , …
Di r e ct o r : K r z y s z t o f Ki e ‚ l o w s k i S cr e e np l a y : K . K i e‚ lo w s k i , K r z y sz to f Pi e s i e w i c z Cinematography: E d w a r d K¬ o si ~ s k i E d i to r : E w a S m a l A r t d i r ec t o r: H a li n a D o b r o w ol s k a So u n d : M a ¬ g o r z a ta J a w o r s ka M u s i c : Z bi g ni e w P r e i sn e r Pr o d u c er : R y s z a r d C hu tk o w s ki P r o d u c t i o n c o m pa n y: P o l is h T el ev i s i o n C a s t : K r ys t yn a J a n d a, Al ek s a n d er Ba r d i ni , O l g ie r d fl u k a s z ew i c z, A r t u r B ar c i‚ , S t a n i s¬ aw G a w l ik , Kr z y s z t o f Ku mo r , M a c i e j S z a r y , K r y s t yn a Bi g el m a j e r , Ka ro l Di l l e n i us , E w a E k w i~ sk a…
T V D r a ma 35 mm colour 5 3 m in s
TV Drama 35 mm c o lo u r 57 m i n s
138
Dekalog 3 D ec a l o gu e 3 1988–1989
Dekalog 4 D ec a lo g u e 4 1988–1989
Dekalog 5 D e c a lo g u e 5 1988–1989
Christmas Eve, a night when families are together and nobody wants to be alone. Ewa tricks Janusz, her exlover, away from his family and under various pretexts tries to keep him with her for the night. Janusz wants to go home but Ewa is determined. They part at dawn.
Anka is 20 years old. Her mother is dead and she lives with her father. They get on well together. Her father has to go on a trip abroad. While he is away, Anka finds an envelope in her father’s room: “Not to be opened before my death.” Within that envelope is another, addressed, in her mother’s handwriting, to her. Anka meets her father on his return and quotes the letter where her mother reveals that he is not Anka’s real father. A different relationship emerges between Anka and him. He resists; she might still be his daughter. As he leaves for another trip, Anka runs after him, confessing that she hasn’t read the letter after all.
A youth randomly, and brutally, murders a taxi-driver. Piotr has just passed his law exams and been admitted to the bar. He is to defend Jacek, the young murderer. There is no evidence for the defence and no apparent motive. Jacek is put on trial, found guilty and executed by hanging. Piotr, after his first case, is left with the bitter doubt – does the legal system, in the name of the people, have the right to kill in cold blood?
D i re c t or : Kr z y s z t o f Ki e ‚l ow s k i S c re e np l ay : K. K i e‚ lo w s k i , K r zy s zt o f P i es i ew i c z Cinematography: P io t r S o b o c i ~s k i Ed i t o r : E w a S ma l A r t d i re c to r : H a l i na D o b ro w o ls k a So u nd : N i k od e m W o ¬ k- fl a n i e w s k i P r od u c e r: Ry s za r d C h u t k o w s k i P r od u c ti o n c o m p a n y : P ol i sh T el e v i si o n C a st : D a n i e l O lb r y c hs k i, M a r i a P ak u ln i s, J o a n n a Sz c z ep k o w s ka , A r tu r B a r ci ‚ , Kr y s t y n a D ro c h o c k a , K r zy s z t o f K u m o r , D o r o t a St a l i ~ s ka , Z y g mu nt F o k , J a c e k K al uc k i , B a r b a r a K o¬ o d z i e j sk a , M a r i a K r a w c zy k , Je rz y Z y g m u n t N o w a k , P i o t r R zy m sz ki e w i c z , Wt od z i mi e r z R ze c zy c ki , W ¬o d z i mi e rz Mu si a ¬ TV Drama 35 mm colour 5 6 m in s
D ir ec t o r : K r z y sz to f Ki e ‚ lo w s k i Sc r e e np l a y: K . K i e‚ l o w s ki , K rz y s z to f P i e s ie w i c z Cinematography: Kr z ys zt o f Pa ku ls k i Ed i t o r : E w a S ma l A r t d i re c t o r : H a l i na D o b ro w o ls ka So u nd : M a ¬g o r za t a J aw o r s k a M u si c : Z b ig n i e w P re i sn e r Pr o d u ce r: R ys za r d C h u t k o w sk i P ro d u c t i o n c o m pa n y : Po l i sh T el e v i si o n C a s t: A d r i a n n a B ie d r zy ~s k a, J a n u s z Ga j o s, Ar t ur B a r c i ‚, A da m H a n u s zk i ew i c z , J a n T es a r z, An d r z e j B l um e nf el d , T o m a s z K o z¬ ow i c z , … TV Drama 35 m m c o l o u r 55 mins
139
Di r e c t o r : K r z y sz to f K i e ‚ lo w s k i Sc r e e n p la y: K . K ie ‚ l o w sk i , K rz ys z t o f P i e si e w i c z Cinematography: S¬ a w o m i r I d z ia k Ed i t o r : E wa S ma l Ar t d i re ct or : H al i na D o b ro wo l s ka S o un d : M a ¬g o r za t a Ja w o rs k a M us i c: Z bi g ni e w Pr e i s n e r P ro d u c er : R y s z a r d C hu tk o w s k i Pr o d u c ti o n co mp a n y : T o r a nd P o li s h T e l e vi s i on C a s t : Mi r o s la w B a ka , K rz y sz to f G l ob i s z , J an T e s a r z , Z bi g ni e w Z a p a s ie w i c z , Ba r b a r a D zi e ka n Wa jd a , A l ek s a nd e r B e d n a r z , J e r z y Z a s s , Z d z i s¬ a w T o b i as z , A r t u r B a r c i ‚, K r y st y na J a n d a , O l g i e r d flu ka s z e w ic z T V D r am a 3 5 m m c o l o ur 57 mins
Dekalog 6 D e c a l o g ue 6 1988–1989
Dekalog 7 D e c a l og ue 7 1988–1989
Dekalog 8 De c a lo g ue 8 1988–1989
Tomek, a young post office worker, is obsessed with Magda, the promiscuous woman who lives in the tower block opposite. He spies on her through a telescope and finally declares his love. She initiates him into the basic fact of life there is no love, only sex. Tomek, shattered, tries to commit suicide but doesn’t succeed. When he returns from hospital, it is Magda who becomes obsessed with him.
Six-year-old Ania is being brought up by Ewa in the belief that Majka, Ewa’s daughter, is her sister, whereas Majka is really her mother. Tired of living this lie Majka ‘kidnaps’ Ania. She seeks refuge with Wojtek, Ania’s father. Majka was just a schoolgirl when Wojtek, her teacher, got her pregnant. Ewa, jealous of Ania’s love, phones Wojtek. Majka will only return home if her mother allows her to bring up her own daughter in the recognition of the true relationship. Majka and Ania hide at a nearby station. Ewa asks the woman at the ticket office whether she has seen a young woman with a little girl. In the background, Ania wakes up and sees Ewa. ‘Mummy,’ she calls and runs to her. A train arrives, Majka jumps on.
Elÿbieta, researching the fate of Jewish war survivors, is visiting from New York and sits in on le«ures in ethics at the University of Warsaw. She approaches Zofia, the professor, and tells her that she is the little Jewish girl whom Zofia refused to shelter from the Nazis during the Occupation. As Zofia explains the reason for this apparent cowardice – someone had betrayed Zofia’s husband who was active in the underground and any Jewish child would have fallen into the hands of the Gestapo – her long-standing sense of guilt is cleared while Elÿbieta’s faith in humanity is restored.
D i r ec t o r : Kr z ys z t o f K i e ‚l o w sk i S c re e np l a y : K . K i e ‚ lo w s k i , K r zy s zt of P i es i ew i c z C i n e m a t o g r a p h y: W i to ld A da m ek Ed i to r : Ew a S m al A r t d i re c to r : H a l i n a D o b ro w o ls k a So u nd : N ik o d e m W o ¬ k- fl a ni e w s k i M u si c : Z b i g ni e w P r ei s n e r P r o du c e r : R y s za rd C h ut k o w s ki P ro du c t i o n c o m p a ny : T o r a n d Po l i s h Te le v i si o n C a s t: G r a ÿ y na S z a p o ¬ o w sk a , O l a f L ub a s ze nk o , S t e fa n i a I wi ~ sk a , A r t u r B a r c i‚ , S t a ni s ¬ a w G a w li k , P i o t r M a c h al i c a , R a f a ¬ I m b ro , J a n P ie c h o c i~ s ki , M a ¬ go r z a t a R oÿ n ia t ow s k a , M. C h o j n a c k a , T . G r a do w s k i , K. K o p er sk i , J. M i c h a le w s k a , E . Zi ø ¬k ow s k a T V D r a ma 35 mm colour 58 mins
So u nd : N i k o d e m W o ¬ k- fl a ni e w s k i M u s ic : Z b i g ni e w P r ei s ne r P r od u c er : Ry s z a r d C hu tk o w s k i Pr od u ct i o n c o m p an y : P o l i s h T el ev i s i o n C a st : A nn a Po l on y , M a j a B ar e¬ k o w sk a , Wl a d y s¬ a w K o w a ls k i , B o g us ¬a w L i n d a, …
D i re c to r : K r z y s z t o f Ki e ‚l o w s k i S c re e np l a y : K . K i e‚ lo w s k i , Kr z y sz t o f Pi e s i e w i c z Cinematography: An d r ze j J a r o s z e w i c z E d i to r: E w a S m a l A r t d i r ec t o r: H a li n a D o b r o w ol s k a So u nd : W i e s ¬ a w a D e mb i ~ sk a M us i c : Z bi g n i e w Pr e i s n e r P ro d u c er : Ry s za r d C hu t ko w s k i Pr o d u ct i o n c o m pa n y: P o l is h T el ev i s i o n C as t : M a r i a K o‚ c i a ¬ ko w s k a, Te re s a M a r c ze w s k a , A r t u r Ba r c i ‚ , T a d eu sz fl o mn ic k i, M a r i a n O p a n i a , B r o ni s ¬ a w P a w li k , W o j c i e c h A s i ~s k i , M a r e k K ™ p i ~s k i , J a n u s z M o nd , …
TV D ra m a 3 5 mm c o lo u r 55 mi n s
TV Drama 35 mm co lo u r 55 mins
D i r ec t o r: Kr z ys z t o f K i e ‚l ow s ki S c r e e n p la y : K. K i e ‚ l o w sk i, Kr zy s zt o f P ie s ie w i c z C i ne ma t o g ra p h y : D a r i us z K u c Ed i t o r : E w a S ma l A r t d i r e c to r : H a l i na D o b r o w o ls k a
140
Dekalog 9 D ec a l o gu e 9 1988–1989
Dekalog 10 D ec a l o g u e 10 1988–1989
La Double Vie De Véronique Podwøjne Ÿycie Weroniki T he D o ub l e Li f e o f V é r o ni q u e 1991
Roman learns he’s impotent. Recognizing his wife, Hanka’s, sexual needs, he encourages her to take a lover. She is reluctant; she loves Roman, but does have an affair with Mariusz, a student. Roman, despite his own words, becomes excessively jealous and obsessed with the thought that Hanka might have followed his encouragement and taken a lover. He spies on her and learns of her relationship with Mariusz, unaware of the fact that Hanka has broken off the affair. Roman tries to commit suicide but survives. Hanka rushes to his side.
A man dies leaving an extremely valuable stamp collection to his two sons, Jerzy and Artur. Although they know very little about stamps, they are unwilling to sell. They learn that one very rare stamp is needed to complete a valuable set. To acquire the stamp Jerzy donates his kidney – the man in possession of the stamp is in need of a kidney for his daughter. Returning from hospital, Jerzy and Artur find that they have been burgled. The entire stamp collection is gone. Shamefully, they confess that they suspected each other and are reconciled.
D i r ec t or : Kr z ys z t o f K i e ‚l ow s k i S c r e e n p l ay : K. K i e‚ lo w sk i , K r zy s zt o f P i e s i ew i c z Cinematography: P io t r S o b o c i ns k i Ed i t o r : E w a S ma l A r t d i r e c to r : H a l i na D o b r o w o ls k a So u nd : N i k od e m W o ¬ k- fl a ni e w s k i Mu si c : Z b i g ni e w P r ei s n e r P r od u c e r : Ry s z a r d C hu tk o w s k i P r od u ct i o n c o m p a n y: P ol i s h T el e vi s i o n C a st : E w a B¬ a s zc z y k , P i o t r M a c h al i c a , Ar t ur B a r c i ‚ , J a n Ja n k o w sk i , J o l an ta P i™ t e k G ør e c k a , K a t a r zy na P iw o w a r c z y k, J e r z y T re la , M a ¬g o r za t a B o ra t y ~s k a , R e n a ta B e r ge r , J a n u sz C y w i ~s ki , …
D ir ec t o r : K r z y sz to f K i e ‚ lo w s k i Sc r e e n p la y: K. K i e‚ l o w sk i , Kr z ys zt o f P i e si e w i cz C i ne ma t o g ra p h y : Ja c e k B ¬ a w u t E d i t o r : E w a Sm a l A r t d i r ec t o r : H a li n a D o b r o w o l sk a S o u n d : Ni k o d e m W o ¬k - fl a n i e w sk i M u si c : Z b ig n i e w Pr e i sn e r Pr o d u c e r: R ys za r d C h u t k o w sk i P ro d u c t i o n c o m pa n y : Po l i sh T el ev i si o n C a s t: J e r z y St u h r , Zb i g n i e w Z a m a c h o w s k i , H en ry k B i s ta , O l a f L ub a sz e nk o , M a c i e j St u h r , J e r z y T u re k, A n n a G ro n o s ta j , H e n r y k M a j c h er ek , E lÿ b i et a Pa n a s , D a ri u s z K o za ki e w i c z, Gr z e go r z W a r c ho ¬ , Ce z a ry H a r a simowicz
Poland. Weronika, who sings beautifully, suffers from a heart condition. She has to choose – continue singing and risk her life, or give up her singing career. During a concert she suffers a heart attack and dies. France. Véronique is Weronika’s double. She, too, has a beautiful voice and a heart condition. When Weronika suffers, Veronique senses that she must reject her singing career. She teaches music at a primary school. Alexandre, a puppeteer and story writer, visits her school. Days later she receives mysterious messages. She finds Alexandre at a station cafe waiting for her. In a hotel room, where they make love, Alexandre finds the photographs which Véronique took when she visited Poland. He sees Weronika, thinking it’s Véronique. Now Véronique realizes that she has a double. Di r e c to r: K r z ys z t o f K i e ‚l o w s ki S c r e e n p la y : K . P ie s ie w i c z Cinematography: S ¬a w o m i r Id z ia k Ed i t o r : J a c q u es W i t ta A r t d i r ec t or : P a t ri c e M e r c i e r M u s i c : Z bi g ni e w P re i sn e r Pr o d u c er : L eo n a r d o de l a F u e n t e P r o d u c t i o n c o m p a n y : Si d é r a l P ro d u c t i o ns / T o r P r o d uc t i o n / Le S t u d i o C a n al P l u s C a s t : I r èn e Ja c ob , A l ek s a nd e r B a rd i n i , W¬ a d y s ¬ a w Ko w a l s ki , …
TV Drama 3 5 m m c o lo u r 5 8 m in s
TV Drama 35 mm c o lo u r 57 m i n s
Feature 35 mm c o lo u r 98 m i n s
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Trois Couleurs: Bleue Three Colours: Blue 1993
Trois Couleurs: Blanc T h re e C o lo ur s: W h i t e 1993
Trois Couleurs: Rouge T h r e e C o l o ur s : R e d 1994
Julie loses her husband, a renowned composer, and their young daughter in a car accident. She tries to forget and begin a new life. She moves to an area in Paris where she believes no one will find her but she cannot avoid all the traps – feelings, ambitions and deceptions which threaten her new freedom. Nor can she lose her husband’s - or is it her own? – music. This is one aspect of her life which she cannot control.
Karol, a Polish hairdresser in Paris, is humiliated. He has become impotent and his wife throws him out on to the streets. He meets an fellow countryman who helps smuggle him back into Poland. On home ground, Karol tries to be ‘more equal’ than others and plots revenge on his wife. No longer happy with the small-time hairdressing establishment which he ran with his brother, he tries to make quick money. Through connivance and cunning, he makes himself a fortune, then feigns his own death. His wife appears at his ‘funeral’, and when Karol discloses himself to her, their love for each other is resurrected. But it is too late.
Valentine, a young model, knocks over a dog as she drives. She takes the bitch in, checks out her address and goes in search of her owner. She finds the villa and discovers an elderly gentleman, living in neglect and eavesdropping on telephone conversations. Initially indignant at what the man is doing, she is nevertheless drawn into a psychological relationship. A friendship grows as the Judge begins to confide in Valentine.
D i r ec t o r : K r z y sz to f Ki e ‚ l o w s k i Sc r e e n p l a y: K . K i e ‚l o w s ki , K rz y s zt of P i es i e w i c z Cinematography: S¬ a w o m i r I d z i a k E d i t o r: J a c qu e s W i t t a A r t d i r e c to r: C l a ud e L e n o i r So u nd : J e a n - Cl a u d e L a ur e u x S o u n d m i x e r : W i l li a m Fl a g e o l le t M u s i c : Z b i gn i e w P r ei s ne r E x e c ut i v e p r od u c e r : Yv o n C r e n n P r o du c e r: M a r i n K a rm i t z P ro du c t i o n c o m p a ni e s : MK 2S A/ C ED Pr o d u ct i o n s / F r an c e 3 C i n e ma / C AB P r o du c t i o ns / T o r P r o d uc t i o n C a st : J ul i e tt e B i n o c h e , B e no i t R eg e n t , F l o r en c e P e r ne l, C h a rl ot te V er y , H el en e Vi n c e n t , P hi l i p p e V o l te r, C l a ud e D un eto n , Em m a nu e ll e R iv a , F l or en c e V i gn o n, J a c e k O st a s ze w s k i , Y a nn T r e g o ue t, I sa b e l le Sa d o ya n , Da n i e l M a r ti n , … Feature 35 mm colour 1 OO m i n s
D i re c t or : Kr z y s z t o f Ki e ‚l ow s k i S c re e np l a y : K . K i e‚ lo w s k i, Kr zy s zt o f P ie s ie w i c z Cinematography: E d w a r d K ¬ o si ~ sk i E d i to r: U r s z u l a L e si a k A r t d i r e c to r: C l a ud e L e n o i r M u s i c : Z b i gn i e w Pr ei s ne r S o u n d : Je a n- C l au d e L a u r e ux So u nd m ix e r : W i ll i a m F l a ge ol le t E x e c ut i v e pr o d u c er : Yv o n C r e n n P r od u c e r : M a r ti n K a r m i tz Pr od u c ti o n c o m p an i e s : T o r P r o d uc t io n / M K2 P r o d u c t i o ns SA / C E D Pr o d u c ti o ns / Fr a n c e 3 C i n e m a / C AB Pr od u ct i o n s C a s t : Z b i gn i ew Z a m a c h o w s k i , J u li e D e lp y , J er z y S t uh r Feature 35 m m c o l o u r 100 mins
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Di r e c t o r : K r z y s z t o f Ki e ‚ lo w s k i Sc r e e np l a y : K . K i e‚ lo w s k i, K r z y sz to f P i e s i e w i c z Cinematography: Pi o tr S o b oc i ~ s ki E d i t o r : J a c q u es W i t ta A r t d i r ec t o r : Cl a ud e Le no i r M us i c : Z bi g n i e w Pr e i s n e r S o u nd : J e a n- C l a u d e L au r e ux So u n d m i x e r: W i ll i am F l a g e o l l e t Ex ec u t i v e p r o d u c er : Y v o n C re nn Pr o d u ce r : M a r t i n K a r m i t z Pr o d u c ti o n c o m pa n i es : C AB P r o d u c t i o ns / M K2 Pr od u c ti o n s S A / T o r Pr od u c ti o n / C E D P r o d uc t io n s / F r a nc e 3 C i n e m a C as t : I r èn e J a c o b, J ea n - L o u i s Trintignant… Feature 35 mm c o lo u r 10 0 m i ns
I’m so-so 1995
In 1994, the acclaimed director Krzysztof Kieslowski, known especially for The Decalogue (Filmfest DC, 1995) and Blue, White, and Red, announced that he wanted to retire from films and spend the rest of his life “smoking cigarettes on a quiet beach somewhere,” so he was reluctant, when approached by Wierzbicki, to take part in this interview documentary. This Danish-produced insight into the master, whom Desson Howe recently described in The Washington Post as “part of the great-director pantheon that includes Jean Renoir, Federico Fellini, Yasujiro Ozu, Max Ophuls, and Andrei Tarkovsky,” is presented in memorium. Poland, in Polish with English subtitles. P r od u ce r : K a r e n H j o r t Sc r e e np l ay : K r z y sz to f W i e r zb i ck i C i n e m a to g r a ph y: J a c e k P et r y c ki E d i t o r : M i l e ni a F i e d l e r M u s i c : Z b i gn i e w P r ei s ne r P r i nc i p a l C a st : K r zy s zt o f K i e ‚ l o w sk i T V D o c u m en t a ry colour 5 6 m in s
143
Internet
Addresses
K r z y sz t o f Ki e s l o w s k i H o me Pa g e http://www-personal.engin. umich.edu/zbigniew/ Kieslowski/kieslowski.html
S t u d io F il mo w e T O R Pu la w s k a 6 1 02 -5 9 5 Wa rs za w a , P o la n d te l. ( 2 2 ) 4 55 - 30 3 fa x ( 2 2 ) 4 5 5 - 0 4 5
K i e sl o ws k i W e b N e t w o rk http://homepage.iprolink.ch /gujski/KWN/kwnindex.html C in e K i e s l ow s k i http://www.petey.com/kk/ Z bi g n i e w Pr e i s n e r A u d i t o r i um http://apollo.lpg.fi/preisner/ auditory.html Po li s h N at i on a l F i l m, T e l e vi s io n a n d T h e at r e Sc h o o l http://szkola.filmowka.lodz.pl/ Mi c r o s o f t C i ne m a n i a Co ll e c t i o n http://cinemania.msn.com/
Th e A s so c i a t i o n o f Po l i s h F i l mm ak er s K r a k o w sk i e P r z e d m i e s ci e 2 1/ 2 3 0 0 - 0 7 1 W a r s za w a , P o l a nd te l . (2 2) 2 7 6 - 7 8 5 fa x ( 22 ) 2 6 3 - 09 6 T h e Fi l m , T e l e v is i o n a n d Th e a t r e Sc h o o l L o d z ul . T a r g o w a 61 / 63 90 - 32 3 L o d z , Po l an d te l . (4 8- 4 2) 7 4 8 18 0 f a x ( 48 - 42 ) 7 48 1 3 9 J ul i ett e B i n oc h e c he z F M S , 7 , ru e L i n c o l n 7 5 0 0 8 P ar is , F r a n c e J u l i e D e lp y c /o W i ll i a m M o r r i s A ge n c y 15 1 E l C am i no D r . Be v er l y H i l ls , C A 9 0 2 1 2 , U S A I r è ne J a c o b c /o N ic o l e C a n n 1 r u e A l fr e d d e V i g n y 7 5 0 0 8 P ar is , F r a n c e
Books
Articles
C a m p a n, Vé r o n iq u e D i x B r e v e s h i st o i r e s d ' i m a g e : Le D ec a l og u e d e Kr z ys z t o f Kie‚lowski. P r es se s d e l a S or bo n ne n ou v e l le , Pa ri s , 1 9 9 3
B r u n et t e , Pe t e r A F i l m M a k er Wh o s e R a n g e i s Wagnerian. N e w Y o rk T i me s, N o v em b er 20 , 19 9 4 , p . 29
K ie ‚ lo w s k i , K rz y sz to f K ie ‚ lo w s k i o n Ki e ‚l ow s k i . Ed i t e d b y D a n u s i a St o k F a b e r a nd F a b e r , L o n do n , 1 9 9 3 K ie ‚ lo w s ki , K rz y sz t o f P ie s ie w i c z , Kr z y s z t o f D e c a l o g ue , t h e t e n c o m m a nd m en ts . T r a n sl a te d by P h i l C a ve nd i s h a n d S uz a nn a h B lu h F a b e r a nd F a b e r, L o n do n , 19 91 Z a w i sl i n s k i , S t a ni s l a w K ie ‚ l o w s ki b e z ko nc a . W y da w n i c t w o Sk o r p i o n , W a r s za w a , 1 9 9 4 K r zy s zt of K i e‚ l o w sk i p r e se n t e p a r M i c h el Es t e v e a v e c d es t e x te s d e Yv e te Bi r o … [ e t al . ] E t ud e s c i n em a t o g ra p h i q u e s 203-210. Le tt r e s M o d e r n e s , P ar is , 19 94 L e sc h , W a l t e r D a s G ew i c h t d e r Ge b o te u n d di e Mo g l i c hk e i t e n d e r K un st : K r zy s zt of K i e‚ lo w ks i ' s De ka l og . Universitätsverlag; F r e i b u r g ( B r ei s ga u ) , 1 9 9 4
Ra y n s, T o ny Gl o w i ng i n t h e D a r k. S i gh t & S o un d , J u ne 1 9 9 4 , p . 8- 1 0 H o l le n de r , B a r b a r a Z y c i e, c zy l i w s z y st k o . Rzeczpospolita, No v em b er 27 , 1 9 9 3 C o m b s , R i c ha r d K i e ‚l o w s ki o n K i e ‚ lo w s k i ( B oo k R e v i ew ) . T h e Ti m es L i t e r a r y Su p p le me n t , N o . 47 82 , N o v em b er 2 5 , 1 9 9 4 , p . 1 6 - 1 7 M i c ha l sk i , M i l en a T r o i s c o u le u r s : b le u. T h e S la v o n i c a n d Ea s t E u r o p e a n R e v i ew . N o . 72 , O c to b e r 1 99 4, p. 79 0 - 7 9 1 K e m p, P h il i p T ro is c o u l e u rs : ro u g e. Si g h t & S o un d , N o v em b er 19 94 , p. 5 4 - 55 Ke h r , D a v e T o s a v e t he w o r l d : K i e ‚ lo w s k i 's T h r ee c o l o r s t r i lo g y . F i l m C om m e n t 30 , No v /D e c 1 9 9 4 , p . 10 -1 3
R u p p e r t , Pe te r T h e D o ub le l if e o f Vé r o n i qu e . C in e a s te 1 9 n o 2 - 3, 1 9 9 2 , p . 63 -6 5 Rayns, Tony K i e ‚ l o ws k i : c r o s s i n g ov e r. S i g h t & S o un d 1 , 22 - 23 M a r c h 1 99 2 T a r a n t in o , M i c h a e l Th e c a v e: on K r zy s z to f Ki e ‚ lo w s k i . Ar tf o ru m 3 0, D e c e mb e r 1 99 0, p . 2 2 - 2 3 E i d s v i k , C ha r l es A S h o rt fi l m a b o u t k il li n g. F i lm Qu a rt e r l y 4 4, F a ll 19 90 , p . 5 0 - 55 Ei d sv i k , C h a rl es A Sh o r t f i lm a b o ut l o v e . Fi l m Q u a r t e r ly 4 4 , F a ll 1 9 9 0 , p . 53 - 55 C av e n d i sh , Ph i l K ie ‚l o ws k i ' s D e c a lo g u e. Si g h t & S o un d 59 , Su mm er 1 9 9 0 , p . 1 62 -1 6 5 In t e vi e w m i t K i e ‚l o w s ki E s g i b t ni c h t s W i c h ti g er e s a l s d i e e ig e n e E r f a hr u ng . Du n o 2 , F e b r u a ry 1 99 0, p . 5 8- 5 9 Qu a r t , L e o n a r d No e nd . C in e a st e 1 6 no 1 - 2, 1988, p. 74
Kr z ys z t o f K i e ‚l o w s ki I ’m so - s o S ta t e A c a d e m y o f Ar t s S t u t t g a r t A m W e i s s en ho f 1 D- 7 0 1 91 S t ut t ga r t Germany Ap r i l 1 9 9 8 Thanks to P ro f e ss o r M an f r ed K r ö p li e n a nd P r o fe s s o r Gü nt e r J a c k i La s e r p r i nt s a n d C o l o rp ri n ts o n b o o k- p a p e r 8 0 g / q m e di t io n 4 Frank-Joachim Grossmann H o l zs tr a s s e 1 D- 67 34 6 S p e y e r t e l. ( 0 6 2 3 2 ) 7 9 5 9 4 Al s o th a n ks to B i r g i t a nd Y v es G r o s s ma n n G e r b ur g B is ch o f E r i k C h r i st i a ns e n ( D R T V ) Di e t m a r B r ü hm ü l l e r H a g e n K ay s e r Re mo K re mb e l M a r i o n O tt a w a U l r i ke R o t h e - B e c k e r Ma rg a r e t h e S c hm i ed e l An j a Sc h ne i d e r a nd m y p a r en t s
K rz y s zt of K i e‚ l o w s ki
1 9 4 1 – 1 99 6