I'm so-so

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

131

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

132

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

135

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

136

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

141

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

142

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