837 Dekalog

[John Shade]

...he "deserves to die" - at which point Kieślowski grabs the audience by the collective scruff of its neck and says "Look, this is what 'capital punishment' actually means. Aside from being more polished and professional, what's the essential difference between it and what you witnessed earlier?". And I'd argue that it's by avoiding the usual manipulation that the film achieves its cumulative power: because it doesn't fall back on the usual clichés - indeed, because it seems to be consciously undermining them at every turn - the viewer can't ever relax.

I have to agree with Michael B here. Having seen this (uncomfortable) film a few times now, both versions, I can honestly say I never once thought of the killer as handsome. If anything he seems nihilistic to an extreme. I also never once had a remote thought that the cab driver was getting "comeuppance" or something remotely like it. That the cab driver is a somewhat irritating person is beside the point, or rather, that it is beside the point is the point: anyone getting murdered is problematic for Kieslowski. Which is why Michal B's point above is true: Kieslowski wants to show that both of the killings (ritualistic as they might be), whether sanctioned or not, are completely immoral. I'm not sure any "relativism" could be interpreted here, though I'm very intrigued by that interpretation if it can be explained further. It certainly would be an interesting way to look at some films based on a very rigid code of morals. Maybe part of the issue with Kieslowski is that he seemingly presents the ideas clearly: here are ten films loosely following the Ten Commandments; here are three films about Liberty, Equality, and Fraternity; of course it's ever quite as simple as that.

As for the love film, I think I posted above that it's really a lust film, and in this case it does follow the commandment and even some Gospel edicts almost literally, and as a film about warped love and lust its characters are clearly acting irrationally (or perhaps they're sort of living relativistic-ally while not aware they're in such a rigid universe?). But as I mentioned earlier Kieslowski uses certain ideas almost as starting points and templates for him to then play around and sometimes even throw us off our expectation. The first time I saw the movie I was surprised by Magda's response. Actually, my first viewing of that film I thought it was pretty well-crafted, suspenseful, and surprising--and it still holds up as top-notch K.

I hadn't fully considered Michael B's point that the woman in this film, Magda, is also living a fantasy life of sorts. Her surprising response to the peeping of Tom might just cynically be taken as someone who enjoys being watched. If that's the case then it is a kind of immaturity. Furthermore, often in these films situational irony is part of the point: the characters themselves aren't aware of the moral universe they're living in. Magda is more practically experienced than Tomek, and she's not a creepy stalker, but beyond that I don't know what else we're getting from this character. The issue with this film is not that it presents voyeurism as a form of love and if it is an issue then Vertigo is also guilty. In both cases voyeurism ultimately equals obsession and possession.

As for the arguments about Kieslowski's aesthetics, or lack there of with some apparent sloppiness, it seems to me like he's in total control. The mix of images and music are undeniably his and his crew. In Kieslowski on Kieslowski I think he even mentioned how he didn't feel like he filmed Poland as bleak as it really was (none of the long waits at the grocery).

As an aside, I will have to briefly disagree with Michael B about Blue and Red (the former I think of as one of Kieslowski's weakest, though the latter is admittedly my favorite film of all time). In some ways I think of the former as an anti-European art film. Just like with Dekalog, he takes a certain set of ideas that are supposed to be the subtext of the film, and plays them either straight forwardly or ironically, sometimes both. Blue is a mix of mourning, egotism, and frustration. It's a tough film in a way, emotionally perhaps, and it's the Kieslowski I revisit least frequently. And as you said, I wonder if the hype surrounding it was too much and if any revisits have changed your opinion at all on these. As for Red, I'll be brief and probably superficial, but for me every aspect of that film, its form and content, come together in a way that expresses Kieslowski's themes, which are still handled with a deft touch and some nuance, though maybe some here find them superficial.

[MichaelB]

In all fairness, I should add that I've only seen Red the once, way back in 1994, and I probably should give it another look - especially now that I've seen virtually everything that Kieślowski made right down to The Principles of Safety and Hygiene in a Copper Mine (his exact equivalent of Stanley Kubrick's The Seafarers, and with a similar level of artistic interest!).

[domino harvey]

Considering I find Blue by far the best of his films that I've seen, that it's being ranked so low by his self-professed fans shows that what others get out of his films are not the same as what I'm looking for!

[knives]

First I want to say thanks for continuing this talk which obviously accomplishes nothing new for you, but helps me better define my opinion.

I figure what you have said is his goal, but the film, in the short at least as I haven't seen the feature, gives the audience a lot to grab onto in that scene so as to make his death horrible. Perhaps I should have been more clear in saying that the handsome killer with a backstory comes into play in the film's second half, but I figured that would have been assumed. Making the cabbie unlikable is the only thing off putting about the initial act rather than allowing it to speak to its own brutality.

I'd have thought a rather bigger thing that's "off putting" about the initial act is the fact that it's a grotesquely prolonged act of cold-blooded murder! So much so - and I think this is very much Kieślowski's argument - that it quickly becomes irrelevant what sort of person is on the receiving end: we may initially feel a vicarious thrill that he's receiving his "comeuppance" (as though being murdered was in any way an appropriate response for a few unpleasant gestures), but as the murder goes on and on and on we're much more conscious of living in the here and now, of actually watching a flesh and blood human being having the life slowly and agonisingly snuffed out of him. Same with the killer's backstory later on: it's inadmissible as evidence, and has no impact on the implacability of the judicial execution, except as a suggestion that mid-1980s Warsaw is such a grim and oppressive place that it's hardly surprising that it turns people into psychopaths.

Fair enough on the term off-putting, though I meant that it was off putting to that goal of creating horror at the killer. Running a bit with the nihillistic quality Johnshade mentions, I took that characterization to be a punker gone wrong, like the nastier flipside to the second hero of episode ten. That with some of his interactions with the locals builds him as a dangerous, though in some ways likable figure. Mentally I keep returning to Lorre in M who likewise gets a lot of sympathy even before his big speech, but never through the sort of cute little punkish interactions on display here like the window or the aloof manner of ordering the creampuff. It forces a necessary contrast to the cabbie who never gets these human little moments leading him to seem like an example of unlikable bad against the killer's likable bad. This seems further cemented in each one's death scene as the killer collapses and cries showing himself as human, while the cabbie (though I admit this is totally logical and thus not a real complaint; just an example of characterization) commits to an animalistic survival mode. He doesn't really become the human in the now you mentioned so much a character trying to escape the sentence passed from his very first frame. Returning to your actual point, yeah the length of the killing makes it really gross and disturbing in a way more successful than Hitchcock's similar attempt in Torn Curtain, but for me it never achieved this place you suggest of circumventing characterization into pure humanistic pity. Whether that's a failure of the film or me I'm not sure about and I suspect that watching the long version will clarify matters significantly.

This might be a good time to also refer to your HBO response, but to be clear I didn't mean modern HBO, but their productions contemporary to this film. If that's still not fair though how about comparing to Alan Clarke who certainly worked on small budgets and not even this series' 35mm and yet managed a much better aesthetic than the episodes I was referring to here, which obviously doesn't include episode five.

"A much better aesthetic" is subjective and therefore meaningless. Alan Clarke is a wholly different type of director from Krzysztof Kieślowski, and I can no more imagine him directing Blind Chance[/i), The Double Life of Véronique or the early documentaries than I can imagine Kieślowski making Scum or The Firm. I suspect you're drawing these largely meaningless comparisons because you watched the Clarke and Kieślowski boxes in fairly quick succession.

Yes, likewise I nearly mentioned Kiarostami due to quick succession, but ultimately decided it better not to Godard myself on this one. All the same I wasn't trying to compare directorial worth as your bringing up theatrical films suggests, but that working low budget in the confines of European television is not an excuse for inarticulate filmmaking. I could have just as easily mentioned After the Rehearsal and it would have made my point equally. That Clarke was so talented in using the limitations as a plus without the benefit of having previous theatrical releases only further cements my point I think.

That aside done Clarke's own film against judicial killing, To Encourage the Others seems to have integrated its sympathies better than five. It still does a lot in the back half to make the one to be hanged sympathetic, but doesn't work up moralistic excuses for the killing.

I have read a great deal of critical appraisal of Dekalog Five and A Short Film About Killing over the last three decades, and you are honestly the only person that I've come across who thinks that making the taxi driver unpleasant constitutes "working up moralistic excuses for the killing". Kieślowski is doing no such thing - indeed, I suspect he'd be horrified that someone interpreted his film along those lines.

Instead, I'd argue that although To Encourage the Others is a very fine piece of dramatic narrative, it ultimately exploits the same clichés as most other anti-capital punishment polemics (admittedly Clarke was hamstrung by the fact that this was a true story), whereby the executed murderer was only peripherally involved with the capital crime, and whose innocence might have come through more clearly within a less vengeful system. Kieślowski is doing the exact opposite: his killer is as guilty as hell (and how!), and therefore in the eyes of the Polish judicial system at the time, he "deserves to die" - at which point Kieślowski grabs the audience by the collective scruff of its neck and says "Look, this is what 'capital punishment' actually means. Aside from being more polished and professional, what's the essential difference between it and what you witnessed earlier?". And I'd argue that it's by avoiding the usual manipulation that the film achieves its cumulative power: because it doesn't fall back on the usual clichés - indeed, because it seems to be consciously undermining them at every turn - the viewer can't ever relax.

Fair enough, though I think that only proves my counterexample as a bad one rather than refuting that Kieslowski accidentally comes across as moralistic.

I feel like I've expanded on the substance a little hopefully negating that feeling somewhat. I thought my comment on aesthetic was a small portion of my whole post, but in case not I'm open to more talk. This is the earliest I've gone with Kieslowski aside from a few shorts so I do hope your substance comment proves as true for me as it does you. As it stands so far I only like the episodes I cited, episode ten, and Red.

Well, Red to me was one of his most disappointing films, where he fully embraced what to me has always been a rather empty European "art-movie" feel to no particularly distinctive effect. I wasn't overly keen on Blue either (and I entered the cinema seriously expecting one of the most mindblowing cinematic experiences of my life) - in fact, of the last trilogy, I only really liked White, which has become more resonant over time thanks to its incisive portrait of the dog-eat-dog atmosphere of immediately post-Communist Poland, most likely because it has much more in common with Kieślowski's earlier work. Going from interviews, I think he knew how much he'd lost by leaving Poland, although he had the noblest methods for doing so: after Communism, film funding virtually collapsed and he was one of the few Polish filmmakers who could plausibly get international support - but in so doing, he had to jettison what made his earlier Polish films so distinctive.

I will say that after watching Ten which I feel shares a lot of DNA at least with my memory of White I'm keen to revisit it to see if my opinion goes higher. At the time it was the only one of the trilogy I was indifferent to.

I think my main problem with six is that it on one hand excuses some really awful behavior by the boy romanticizing his attempt while on the other the woman never seems to be engaged with as real. That makes sense when we see everything through his eyes, but when she takes the lead her superficial presentation does not change as well. It is almost like his dream of her finally realizing he is so super. It is just a toxic idea of love to me.

Amusingly, you've absolutely nailed what the film is about while at the same time thinking that it's some kind of defect. In fact, Toxic Ideas About Love would be an entirely plausible (if commercially off-putting) title - the whole point of the film is that both the central characters, regardless of their age and experience, have deeply warped impressions of what constitutes "love", and at the very end he's arguably the more grown-up of the two. At the time, I much preferred the very different ending of the longer version, but Kieślowski always preferred the shorter one, and in retrospect I can see why: its abruptness is a very effective dramatic equivalent of the moment that virtually all of us has experienced when we suddenly find out, quickly and usually harshly, that our fantasy about a particular relationship doesn't remotely chime with the other person's, and most likely never will.

But I totally disagree that we never interpret Magda as "real" - on the contrary, I think both Kieślowski and Grażyna Szapołowska do an amazing job of creating a complex, nuanced character despite the challenge that she's mostly viewed inaudibly from a distance in the film's early stages.

Well, I suppose I have to wait until I can compare with the long version to give a good response and hopefully it is an agreeable one.

[zedz]

Considering I find Blue by far the best of his films that I've seen, that it's being ranked so low by his self-professed fans shows that what others get out of his films are not the same as what I'm looking for!

I consider Blue the only great film in the final trilogy, but like Michael I'm much more partial to his earlier, more grounded Polish films. My response to Red was very similar to Michael's. It's an impressive feat of filmmaking, but it takes his metaphysical concerns so far into arthouse-cutesy territory that it all feels gauche and rigged (and I could kind of buy all of Mr. Fate's contrivances in the second half of Veronique, though it's the Polish section that really sells that film.)

[John Shade]

I think the only sympathy for the killer in Dekalog 5 is in the final moments before he is executed, when certain aspects of his family life are revealed. Other than that any sympathy for this character really comes from the lawyer's impassioned stance against capital punishment. The final moment in the car is a pretty powerful one: frustration at such an injustice, made more powerful precisely because the killer had been depicted as such a lowlife. The mood of the film, at least the way I'm looking at it, never establishes him as some type of cool, off-beat punker or Alex from A Clockwork Orange. I can't quite agree with the contrast you describe, "as the killer collapses and cries showing himself as human, while the cabbie (though I admit this is totally logical and thus not a real complaint; just an example of characterization) commits to an animalistic survival mode." Well, in the former case the killer knows he is about to die, so he cries moments after having a genuine conversation with the lawyer, something unthinkable earlier in the film but deserved here; in the latter it is a random act of murder after a drive to the middle of nowhere. Both of you are quite right that the length of it and the methods add to the level of brutality (plus the radio...little details)--it's an almost unwatchable scene for me because it is powerfully gruesome, not cheap violence.

Considering I find Blue by far the best of his films that I've seen, that it's being ranked so low by his self-professed fans shows that what others get out of his films are not the same as what I'm looking for!

I think I probably shouldn't have used "weakest" and Blue in the same sentence. But yes, for whatever reason it just doesn't do it for me the way White and Red do...or Double Life, Love, Killing, Blind Chance, ok you get the point. (It seems clear we can all agree that White and Red are worth a revisit!)

Also, Kiarostami is probably a good point of comparison, even if I'm being somewhat surface level here. Certified Copy is both playfully mimicking European art films while simultaneously picking at them in a way that Blue and White, especially the latter, do. It's an outsider entering the world of European art films and so we truly get a unique kind of take. Kieslowski claims that the Contempt poster was just chance, but come on...there's something more to it. The "equality" in White is simultaneously a riff on out of control mobbish capitalism replacing a morally and literally bankrupt communism and a critique of the xenophobia still lurking in Europe (oh yeah, this film still really works now). Not to mention it's a pretty funny movie in an oafish, cruel kind of way.

[colinr0380]

On Dekalog 5/A Short Film About Killing, I'd only add that there seems that intentional contrast between the detailed, personalised up close and excrutiating strangling of the taxi driver contrasting against the coldly dispassionate execution by the state. There is the focus on details such as the taxi driver's shoes twisting off set against the tray underneath the noose to catch any urine, or worse, from the body as it dies. Its sort of about the individual monstrous one-off crime (for little or no acceptable reason) contrasting against a steady stream of acceptable institutional death (for dubious reasons in which this is one statistically insignificant processing in the larger system of things).

I also occasionally wonder whether Crime and Punishment was an inspiration for the piece too. There's something Dostoyevskian about the whole series in some ways.

[dda1996a]

I guess it's down to personal taste and where you started with Kieslowski. I started by accident with Blue (saw a film titled Three Colors:Blue being shown on TV, asked my father if it is worth a watch and the rest is history) with each film in the trilogy building esteem, which manifested with the brilliance of Red. I just don't find the points everyone is accusing it, having seen Blind Chance recently I find it a very good dry run for the metaphysical wonder of everything and including Dekalog. Still haven't seen anything except Pedestrian Subway from his early films but I consider Red one of my all time top ten films (with Veronique and Dekalog really close by, haven't watched Blue and White since I started getting into art cinema) but it's the way Kieslowski manages to mix both personal fascination with the minute, with chance and the unknown connections around us that always sells me on Red. And Irene Jacob has never been more beautiful than in Kieslowski's films (or for that matter Binoche and Delpy)

[John Shade]

My response to Red was very similar to Michael's. It's an impressive feat of filmmaking, but it takes his metaphysical concerns so far into arthouse-cutesy territory that it all feels gauche and rigged (and I could kind of buy all of Mr. Fate's contrivances in the second half of Veronique, though it's the Polish section that really sells that film.)

This film keeps getting the criticism of "art house" which seems somewhat vague to me; I suppose we could say the same to Bergman, Fellini, et al., but I do think it's legitimate to look at it and think it is "rigged" or suffers from a contrived set-up. I'll start by saying that an aspect I love about Shakespeare, Dickens, and Nabokov, which Kieslowski shares, is an emphasis on doubling, coincidences, connections, etc. I accept these investigations into coincidences and patterns and the thematic results that are produced. Zedz point is accurate that there's something contrived about it, so maybe it is a matter of personal taste. I'm also fine with Mr. Fate, or Prospero's work at the end of the film--we've seen plenty of art-house films with bleak endings. Like dda1996a, I prefer the Jacob performances the best out of the French language films and I also like the ruminations on "chance" and "unknown connections". Kieslowski said the film is about "the conditional mood"--it's also a very quiet film that takes its time with some conversational scenes, gauche-y or gracefull-y.

[Black Hat]

Kieslowski cheats sympathies a bit by having the victim be off putting while the killer is a handsome kid with a sad backstory.

Why is this cheating? Aren't psychopaths known to carry a lot of emotional baggage while also being incredibly smart, good looking, charming people with their victims being much less of all those things?

[knives]

I take the stance, generally, social films should aim to like Umberto D have their point stand regardless of if it is occurring to a redeemable character or not. If the death penalty is bad it should be bad for the unattractive killer as well as the attractive one. So under that philosophy while not an inherently bad thing having the killer be attractive is an excessive call on ethos. A cheat. Obviously under a different philosophy that is not the case.

[Black Hat]

That seems like a needlessly confusing if not exhausting set of parameters to adhere, but hey if you dig it you dig it.

Now using your own standards here, I'm with Michael B. I'm not sure how you can read this character as attractive or more sympathetic than not, that bit with the birds and the old lady alone was enough to convict this guy into being a nasty piece of work.

[swo17]

Can anyone speak to how the Artificial Eye BDs of A Short Film About Killing and A Short Film About Love compare to the Criterion transfers on this set?

[nitin]

AE’s A Short Film About Love is in the wrong aspect ratio:

https://www.blu-ray.com/movies/A-Short- ... ay/229365/

ps the incorrect AR is not actually mentioned in the review but you can see the screenshots. The Criterion is also not exactly 1.66:1 but is still 1.70:1.

[swo17]

Huh, thanks for that

[Computer Raheem]

As I have previously alluded to, I am attempting to watch all of Dekalog for the first time. Today is the day I began this monumental (for a film fan, at least) task. I plan to write about each film as I watch, and then do a giant write-up when I've finished. For reference, I'm watching these films via the Facets Video DVD, and I'm leaving any supplemental readings and/or thorough analysis after I've viewed them all. I'll also spoiler-tag everything, as I don't want to ruin the surprises that await anyone else's first viewings. With all that in mind...

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

DEKALOG ONE (Kieslowski, 1989)

Spoiler

The first image we see is of a man staring. It's unclear, at first, what he is truly staring at, but we get the impression, after a while, that he is looking at us. Why is unclear at first, and will remain so until the end of this installment. By the final scene, we realize his purpose: he is judging us. Not just in the moment, but our pasts and futures. Our actions, thoughts, behaviors - you name it. He will not intervene, however, for our fates are already sealed. Not by any outside force, mind you, but by our own actions.

It's easy to interpret this as a simple parable about faith vs. science; given the basic plotting, it's an understandable interpretation to land on. But I feel that doing so ignores the broader concerns that Kieslowski and co. are attempting to accomplish with this initial installment. Dekalog One is less about faith vs. science and more about certainty and blind faith; our lead's grave error isn't that he doesn't have religious faith (though given the lens in which this series is viewed through, a lack of belief in God probably doesn't help things!), but a complete embrace of all things rational that has left him blind to any other form of though. His explanation of death to his son is a perfect microcosm of this; while the initial response of how death functions biologically is sound, his refusal to give an answer to his son's asking of what happens after is what Kieslowski is highlighting. There's no questioning from our protagonist; he is so convinced that his way of thinking is fundamentally correct that the question his son poses - one in which the mysteries of life are given an avenue for exploration - are firmly denied such analysis. Death is finite, and life goes on. The aunt serves as an interesting counterpoint to all this; her deep religiousity is used not as some kind of model, but as a provocative contrast. Keep in mind that the aunt is first shown grieving the loss of her nephew; by the time the film wraps back around to this image, we realize the importance of putting it at the beginning. The faith she has in God put her in the same position as her brother, as both of their belief systems are shattered by unspeakable loss. Kieslowski is making us reckon with the idea that all belief systems - religious and secular - are based on some form of idolatry, which would make any form of faith that relies on some sort of image - whether that be the green glow of a computer screen or a painted image of the Virgin Mary - as sacrilege.

It's telling, then, that the son serves as a sort of beacon. He clearly has interest in both the spiritual and the scientific, and this contrast between the two adults in his life is intentional. Kieslowski uses his innocent questioning of the world around him to remove the didactic from this tale; instead, he probes at the very nature of belief. Seeing this as anti-this or pro-that misses why the son dies in the first place; neither system is correct over the other, and the adult characters' ignorance of that means that their sole chance to reconcile these seemingly divergent beliefs - ones that aren't so divergent when given the chance to meaningfully interact - is taken, forcing them to reckon with this fact in the face of tragedy. This can be seen with the group of people all collectively kneeling at the sight of the corpses being removed from the pond - they have all given themselves to the uncertain, every divergent belief system forming a collective whole. Our leads, however, are too late to realize this, as they are the only one still standing. The father's attempt to go to a church leads to a shot that can easily be misinterpreted when viewed under a simplistic lens. The candlewax making the tears on the Virgin Mary painting are representative of both belief systems, as this event has both a rational explanation - the candlewax dripping onto the painting due to the father's wrecking of the space - and irrational one - the Virgin Mary lending a hand of forgiveness and understanding in the faithless man's time of grief. In that way, Dekalog One has made its position clear - true faith is found not in the refusal of either reason or spirituality, but in the liminal spaces between. It is up to us, then, to embrace the uncertainty that lies there.

To think that this is only the first installment. This would be a profound achievement for any filmmaker, and knowing that there are more of potentially higher quality has me excited (or as much as you can be with deeply existential works about faith in the modern world). I am ready...

[ryannichols7]

I will probably post my thoughts on the movies themselves in the Arrow thread after I go through all the extras on their set, ironically given that Arrow didn't focus on Dekalog as much, which is noted as others to be a blessing (something I agree with). that said, I own both editions and went through all the Criterion extras and they are indeed terrific - while Arrow has them beat on the technical presentation (partially due to Criterion's 25fps limitations, but also because they crammed 10 episodes on two discs, as documented up thread), Criterion's edition I find to be equally essential to Arrow's as they thoroughly examine Dekalog really well. at first I was a little disappointed that on paper, there's little in the way of scholarship and looking into the themes and ideals of these films (which I found to be a very mixed bag, sorry for not expanding further at the moment), on the surface appearing to mostly recount the production, but I found basically every interview to go a lot deeper than expected. for what didn't necessarily work, Annette Insdorf is not particularly a favorite of mine - I think I've discussed her on here before, she's obviously knowledgeable and means well, plus personally knew Kieslowski so I know why she's always on discs for his films, but her delivery and some of her points don't really land with me. I don't think she's bad but I often come away from her wondering if I really picked up on anything new.

thankfully as I said, everything else was mostly incredible. getting the A Short Film..'s in great (and correct) quality are good. I watched Love and was pretty taken by the quality of it - even directly comparing it with Criterion's VI showed a clear difference. I skipped the third Kieslowski interview since Arrow include it in full on their set, but I really liked the first two a lot. the "on the set" one impressed me by how much Kieslowski was able to convey his ideals and intentions quickly, but he got really good on the "A Short Film About Dekalog" interview. I hadn't gone through the Three Colors extras or seen any interview with him in ages, but it's amazing how good of an interviewee he was - not every director is gifted to talk about their films in a particularly intelligent way, but I think Kieslowski luckily was able too. I enjoyed him talking about how he strove to tear apart Polish stereotypes with Dekalog (especially as some of the films he made in Poland kinda confront them head on) and the differences of how the west perceived the films versus domestically in Poland. truly can't wait to hear the long interview on the Arrow set. equally as incredible is Krzystof Piesiewicz's contribution. I didn't realize he'd go through all ten episodes and he doesn't disappoint, getting deep into the influences and ideals behind each episode. since he and Kieslowski are both more straightforward than the other depending on the topic, I think both their approaches are essential, much like the screenplays themselves!

but Criterion really outdid themselves with the contributor interviews this time - I was pretty taken by how good each of these were, whether they were made for Criterion or not. Ewa Smal's praise of Kieslowski - "any editor would kill for this material, the best actors, director" - was very endearing. but she really gets right to talking about the differences between the A Short Film... versions and the Dekalog pieces - at first I was surprised that Criterion didn't have some sort of feature talking about that, but Smal really gets into it here, especially talking about how the "better" takes were used for the film versions. throughout these interviews it's interesting to hear how much autonomy each contributor had over their part versus Kieslowski, and given the "cinema lesson"s he did for Three Colors, I'm not surprised he was more involved with the editing than even the look of the films. really great interview and I was touched by how Smal is proud of her work, but I'm annoyed at Criterion for showing both of the graphic killings from V/A Short Film About Killing in their interview - they seem to love doing this kind of thing, which I complained about their use of both of the big animal violence scenes in Adriano Apra's interview for Stromboli.

the actors each arguably get too short of a time but I always like hearing thoughts from those who played their characters to create and fill in what kind of people they are. loved the idea of filming each of them at respective locations in their films, and find it funny that Kieslowski wasn't super forthcoming with them on what should actually be done with the characters. again, his level of direction varying is a great common topic through all of these interviews. but the cinematographer interviews here are the real gem, even with Sławomir Idziak's piece being super short, he ended up being most informative, for a film I didn't like at all, and that he didn't even want to make! I think it's really funny he came up with the filter idea to try and get out of making the film, but Kieslowski loved him and urged him to push on. he does say that A Short Film About Killing is very different than V and I'll be honest...just gotta trust him with that one, as I personally refuse to watch it. I remember the interview with him for Blue being pretty good too, so hopefully once I revisit that soon I feel similarly.

Wieslaw Zdort and Witold Adamek have both passed on since this set was released and I'm really grateful Criterion got to speak with both of them. ultimately, while interviewing all 9 cinematographers would've been great, I feel they got the three most significant - Idziak and Adamek shooting the episodes that became "films" and I personally feel Zdort's contributions to I especially make that one a classic. Zdort and Adamek both confirm that KK gave the cinematographers a lot of freedom and didn't really want the films to have a unified look, getting instead into the locations of the films themselves for having that difference in feel. Adamek and Smal both cover this really well in their interviews and get fairly scholarly about it, which I really enjoyed. Zdort gets into the Christmas lights, trees, and that green computer screen very well, speaking more on the genesis of I - I don't necessarily think every episode needed a visual essay or commentary, but his comments on this episode in particular were great, it helped that it was a favorite of mine. I do find it funny that Zdort talks about V/Killing a lot, since it kinda got him "into" the project since he saw it first. he also discusses Artur Barciś' character which is nice. Adamek gets very thorough about the making of VI/Love, saying Kieslowski wanted him to make this particular movie. love how he discussed the post office scene that ends VI and how it came about, and I thought he had a very levelheaded discussion about Rear Window and its influence, and how Kieslowski pushed for the usage of the color red.

Hanna Krall's piece is charming, she reminded me a lot of Agnes Varda, right down to the rambling nature of her interview. she does fill a nice angle for Criterion that I'm pretty sure Arrow's set gets way more into, connecting Dekalog to Kieslowski's previous Polish works. I think this angle was sorely needed for Criterion and if I have one complaint, it's this. those who buy Arrow's set are automatically getting some of his earlier works, whereas Criterion buyers may only be sticking with Dekalog as their only acknowledgement of his Polish career, since they'd only really released Veronique and Three Colors (yes they did Blind Chance but that disc is super barebones). I feel like a better primer could've been of use here, something that Paul Coates' essays and Kieslowski's pieces in the booklet don't touch on either, largely sticking to Dekalog itself, which in fairness, Criterion does. I think Krall's piece is a lovely finale, you can tell she and Kieslowski were super close, right down to how she chastises him for using "attractive French actresses" for Three Colors. I love that she dug out the letter he wrote her on the Blue postcard, really added a nice touch.

I'm very pleased with the set, it's nine years old at this point but truly represents one of Criterion's better packages in terms of examining the creation of a film, and even exploring its themes well. I really thought basically everything was worth going through, and can't praise the contributors enough for not only what they did for the films, but to talk about them too! I had similar feelings for their Three Colors edition when I went through the extras over a decade ago, will be revisiting them soon and checking out Arrow's for Dekalog as well. hopefully Criterion can upgrade Veronique to 4K and maybe they'll figure out a worthwhile release for the Polish films they didn't touch? happy with Arrow's Cinema of Conflict, but they deserve an American release too..

[MichaelB]

Thanks for this - that's really interesting. I hadn't given the Criterion Dekalog extras any thought because Arrow went down a completely different route (of necessity, since the two Short Films About... weren't available for UK licensing.

I understand The Calm has been restored since the Arrow box came out, so that's certainly due an upgrade - and it's one of Kieślowski's more interesting early features (certainly much more so than The Scar, whose artificially superior status is derived purely from being made for the cinema instead of television). Although availability of the pre-Dekalog work has increased substantially in the UK, where all the features are now available on Blu-ray, I'm not aware of any other country enjoying the same privileges - bizarrely, not even Poland (where Camera Buff, one of his best features, is still MIA in high definition). And the US came late to Kieślowski, only really discovering him at the turn of the 1990s - by contrast, the UK got to see Camera Buff, No End and (albeit on television) Blind Chance before Dekalog became a going concern.

The challenge with the early features is that they need contextualising more than Dekalog and the later films. Kieślowski originally assumed that only his fellow Poles would be interested in watching them, so made no attempt at reaching out to foreigners, and a film like Blind Chance is pretty baffling if you're not already familiar with 1976-80 Polish history - I myself learned a huge amount when prepping the commentary for the Arrow disc. Similarly, the emotional weight of No End is derived from the fact that it dovetails both a personal and a national tragedy - anyone can pick up on the personal tragedy aspect, but Kieślowski necessarily had to play down the national tragedy (martial law ended not long before it was made), so relied on his audience being able to stir their own feelings into the mix - but a viewer who hadn't personally lived through the Solidarity era and the martial law clampdown that followed simply wouldn't read it in the same way.