Dekalog 4: father-daughter drama

                            

As a 20 year old, what do you do, and how do you feel, when you suddenly discover the man who you have always loved and thought was your father, apparently is not. Dekalog 5 is one of the most convincing of these short films as it depicts perfectly the complexities of an adult/ child relationship. Michal, in his nuanced and understated way, is thoroughly credible as the ‘father’ figure, and Anka is equally assured as the mature but emotional young woman battling to cope with what’s before her.

The issue of the existing letter with “To be opened after my death” marked on the front of the envelope has the potential to destroy their relationship. Both have known of its existence, but have ignored it for years. It is a final letter from Anka’s deceased mother for Anka’s eyes only. Lately her father has been leaving it lying around. He wants his daughter to finally confront whatever news she has, but doesn’t know how to bring it up. He suspects it might be about issues of paternity.

The beginning of the film depicts their strong emotional bond. It is a tradition on Easter Monday, it seems, that they pour cold water on each other when each person is unsuspecting. For Michal, it occurs when he is asleep in bed. Anka cops it when she is in a sheer nightie, about to take a bath. It is playful and charming, but it also suggestive of the games that lovers’ play. It adds an intriguing element to the relationship. They can’t, at this point, understand why, but there is no doubt that there is more than just a filial bond between them.  Both, for example, are jealous of each other’s partners. “I hate it when you go away” she says to him at the airport. Both admit to feeling guilty or unfaithful when having sex with their choice of partner. Anka has trouble playing a romantic lead opposite a boy for her drama rehearsals.

After Anka tells Michal she has read her mother’s letter, and spills the beans, they have a lot of sorting out to do. There is a long sequence where they looked trapped, in a lovers’ tryst, in a claustrophobic lift. It builds tension beautifully. Shortly after, in another beautifully realised scene, the two are sitting in the half dark with two bright candles. It is Anka’s idea to say that whoever’s candle goes out first has the right to ask a question. It is exactly what someone like Anka would say. It is far too dreamy and romantic for Michal to come up with.

                    

The most important sequence in the films takes place with little background noise and in a dimly lit room with close-ups of faces. It is reminiscent of Ingmar Bergman, particularly in its depiction of the emotional charge coming from a parent and a child (like Bergman’s ‘Autumn Sonata’). This is until Anka removes her t-shirt and is bare breasted. She invites her father to become her lover. Not being his daughter, it is a choice they can both make. The emotional and physical pull toward each other is undeniable. In the end, the burning of the letter tells them both that the past does not really matter. Of all the ten films in Dekalog, the relationship between Anka and Michal is my favourite. It’s complex and moving and very real and Kieslowski’s camera is assured and he takes the right amount of time to unfold an intriguing story.

 

              

DEKALOG 3: the return of the past

IMPORTANT relationships are hard to forget. Dekalog 3 is another film about a couple who have supposedly moved on from a former relationship, but still, and always will have, a strong affection due to a former intense association. In this case it is unbalanced because Janusz is in a new marriage with loving kids and it appears to be a strong relationship. Ewa, on the other hand, is alone, and has been for years, and it is cold, and it is Christmas Eve in Poland, and she is feeling sad and regretful. It reminds me a little of the end of ‘The Umbrellas of Cherbourg’, although Guy’s marriage is presented as stronger than Janusz’, and Genevieve is still married to Roland, and has her little girl, and she comes across as merely wistful in that film.

                   

Ewa is a bit unstable, and she plays games in order to be able to survive Christmas Eve, ensuring  her former lover is with her the whole evening, and into the morning. Janusz is with Ewa helping her with her problems, instead of being with his wife and children. “Thou shalt remember the Sabbath and keep it holy” is the commandment here, although Janusz is hardly to blame for missing the family event.

 

               

Initially, Janusz has the look of being burdened by events from the past. Ewa tells him her husband, Edward, has disappeared, and the whole evening is spent looking for him in places like casualty wards in hospitals. Janusz seems to somehow warm to his mission, and soon it becomes clear that he still has feelings for his soft-faced ex-lover. He is a willing accomplice in her games, and at one point, in her apartment, they almost kiss, until they come to their senses. Ewa is the classic femme fatale with her watery eyes and helpless looks ,almost  begging Janusz to be with her. Later she admits her deceit, and explains that her husband left her years ago, firmly establishing her lonely, displaced state.

There is a lovely Christmas feel about this episode- a suffused glow of coloured lights, soft, downy snow, some scenes of Christmas lights seen hazily and romantically through muted windows. It helps us feel Ewa’s pain. This is, however, not the strongest of the Dekalog films. I felt there was something intangible missing. An interesting exploration of relationships but perhaps not as intelligent or complex as most of the others.

                             

 

 

 

DEKALOG 2: the sanctity of life

                          

This, the second instalment of Kieslowski’s one hour films loosely based on ‘The Ten Commandments’, involves an ageing and world weary doctor who lives alone in his apartment with his bird and some fish for company, and occasional visits from his friendly cleaner. Lurking nearby, or in other words living in a nearby apartment, is a youngish woman name Dorota who is three months pregnant. Her moral dilemma is that she is pregnant to a man other than her husband. Her husband, Andrzej,  is in the doctor’s hospital, possibly dying of cancer. Part of her would like to keep the child- she has had difficulty getting pregnant- and therefore be with her lover if her husband does in fact die. Otherwise, if he were to live, abortion would be a better bet. Being three months pregnant, she needs to decide soon, and meanwhile she needs to know for sure as quickly as possible whether or not the cancer is imminently terminal. This dilemma inadvertently becomes the doctor’s dilemma, as she begins placing pressure on him to guide her as to her husband’s prospects. “Tell me if he’s going to die: I just have to know” Dorota implores. “All you can do is wait” the doctor tells her.  He becomes a reluctant God-like figure, or at least a priest, because any hope he provides as to her husband’s fortunes increases the likelihood that her unborn child will die. He later tells her with some false certainty that her husband will most likely die- he says this emphatically- it as if he is worried that any good news will result in the dreaded abortion. “He hasn’t a chance” he tells her. She has made an appointment for the abortion the next day. She even makes him swear it is the truth.

 

            

To further emphasise this fact, Kieslowski has built in, in very subtle fashion, the doctor’s past- a photo of a woman and her children. Near the end he tells the housekeeper of a tragic event related to a bombing.  It encourages us to speculate that perhaps the life of children is more sacred to him than it would be for the average person (we saw this in Dekalog 1 with the drowning of the young boy).

There are close-ups of images, as is often the case in Kieslowski’s films, that cry out for interpretation. The way that the camera lingers on them for a long time suggests this. The destruction of an indoor plant, by peeling off its thick petals, and twisting its stem. The way the water drips and leaks from a tap as the cancer-ridden patient lies suffering close by. The most effective one of all is at the end. Andrzej lies in bed, life or death hovering close by, we don’t which of the two it will be. He watches a bee submerged in a drink, madly scrambling away from the liquid, an incredible struggle to the top of the glass via a straw. He makes it. Consequently Andrzej does as well. He appears, ghost-like, at the doctor’s doorway. It feels incredible to be alive. “I can touch the table” he says. What’s more, even though he will live, Dorota is going to keep the baby.

The film ends with the survivor asking his doctor “Do you understand what it means to have a child?” The doctor replies “I do” and you can tell he really means it. What’s more, it is he, the doctor, who is responsible for the fact that they will be sharing a child. It is only his lie that his patient will surely die that ensured the abortion didn’t happen. It is a stirring end, and so it becomes a film about the sanctity of life, the importance of preserving the life of an unborn child, as well as the need to cling to life and to hope when your frail health is failing you. It reminds me that it is a Polish film, it reminds me of the Holocaust, and those camp survivors who argue against euthanasia every inch of the way.