kleph
27-03-2006, 06:56 AM
Director: Krzysztof Kieslowski
Writer(s): Krzysztof Kieslowski and
Krzysztof Piesiewicz
Starring: Juliette Binoche, Benoît Régent, Florence Pernel, Charlotte Véry,
Hélène Vincent
Released: 1993
Distributed by: Miramax (in the U.S.)
IMDB Link: Trois couleurs: Bleu (http://imdb.com/title/tt0108394/)
"Real artists find answers. The knowledge of the artisan is within the confines of his skills… Real knowledge is knowing how to live, why we live."
- Krzysztof Kieslowski, 1941-1996
The films of the late Polish filmmaker Krzysztof Kieslowski (left) are uniformly gorgeous, profound and awash with levels of symbolism and meaning that stay with the viewer long after they return to the mundane rigor of the routine world. During the late 1980s and early 1990s, his films were a staple of the art-house crowd and suffer, unjustly I feel, from that association. This is simply wonderful filmmaking that anyone can enjoy if they give it the proper chance.
The narrative style is clear and true although he doesn’t rely on plot to get his message across like typical blockbuster films, that isn’t to say his films aren’t accessible. His appeals to imagery, emotion and intellect are powerful enough for the viewer unused to such approaches to enjoy his films quite well. His films have an incredible intensity but earn it honestly rather than resorting to overwrought music, over emphasized camera angles and special effects.
Kieslowski was a documentary filmmaker who specialized in social issues when he made his first feature film, The Scar, in 1976. This film made him a leading figure in the Polish cinematic school of 'moral anxiety' and set the introspective tone for his works that followed. It is not hyperbole to regard his Three Colors (or Trois Couleurs since they were French-made films) trilogy as a masterpiece – a formidable assessment given the quality of all his work.
The trilogy was conceived as a series of films that correspond to the colors of the French flag and the ideals each represents – liberty, equality and brotherhood. They each start with the color of their title and then move outward into more and more abstract realms of symbolism before returning again to the center of the idea where they sprang. But this is not some artsy exegesis; this is how such ideas apply in a practical manner to one’s life.
"Millions of people have died for those ideals (liberty, equality, and fraternity). We decided to see how these ideals are realized practically and what they mean today," the director explained in an interview at the time. "We looked very closely at the three ideas, how they functioned in everyday life, but from an individual's point of view."
The first film, Blue (or Bleu), centers around Julie Vignon de Courcy – played by the shatteringly beautiful Juliette Binoche - the wife of a French composer who may or may not have created much of her husband's works. The film begins with a car wreck that claims the life of her husband and young daughter. From that point Julie then begins to shut herself off from her former life and the world around her. The tragedy has freed Julie from many of her emotional ties and responsibilities of her life and so, to escape the pain of her loss, she begins a purposeful destruction of what remains.
She is striving to become completely free to ease her suffering but it will also leave her completely alone and isolated. To to be truly free one must have nothing or, conversely, to lose everything is the only true way to gain one’s freedom. Like Dostoyevsky, Kieslowski seems to believe there is a cathartic aspect to suffering but he also believes in epiphany. At some point there has to be an understanding and transformation beyond the suffering. The existential response is insufficent for Kieslowski because the idea of complete liberty - complete independence - is obviously a destructive ideal for a society.
Watching this film you must keep aware that every shot, every element, everything is there for a reason. People milling about in the background, a cube of sugar, the name scrawled on a package someone is carrying - everything - is there on purpose. The first time we see Julie take any type of action is as she breaks a window, moments later we see her through a window after she has failed in a suicide attempt. The transparency of glass – how we can behold things through it although they remain untouchable – then becomes a theme running throughout the whole of the film. Up to and including the final frame. And that is just one example.
To iterate his theme of isolation, thoughout the film Kieslowski pulls you into Julie’s constantly shrinking world by literally making you see it through her eyes. These short strange interludes in the middle of scenes can be confusing for viewers used to the third-person narrative style ubiquitous in mainstream movies but their effect is dramatic. After the car crash there is a scene of a small tuft of down, very close and slightly out of focus, moving up and down. Nothing else. It is only later you realize you were seeing things from Julie’s point of view as she lay in her hospital bed on her side, breathing slowly, looking through her injured eye.
These "moments" gather momentum as the movie progresses until they merge completely with the regular flow of the narrative. Because it becomes clear as the past and the present continue to force their way into Julie's life that perfect freedom is impossible. For example, the music she and her husband were composing filters into her new world unbidden and, she is surprised to learn, without a connection to her.
Kislowski once said that Binoche’s willingness to take on the role inspired the entire trilogy. Her work here makes you understand why he would make such a sweeping statement. Binoche has always been best playing haunted characters and her somber beauty translates it well. She has been so consumed by grief that she has closed herself off even from her self – not able to cry and mourn for those she has lost. But still she suffers. And Binoche is able to express that though a legion of small and subtle effects in her manner. It is perhaps her greatest accomplishment as an actress.
One reason Blue and the Three Colors trilogy succeeds so well is the taught unity in their vision and the depth of the characters. A great deal of that must go to scriptwriter Krzysztof Piesiewicz, who Kieslowski had been working with since 1982. Allied with Piesiewicz, the grand visual aspirations of Kieslowski’s films gained a strong thematic foundation that made them even more complete and powerful. The duo worked on all of the directors most important films including the Decalogue cycle, The Double Life of Veronica and, finally, Three Colors. The subtle yet essential shadings of personality that permeate the film and bring the characters to life is the hallmark of Piesiewicz’s effort.
In addition, composer Zbigniew Preisner worked closely with Kieslowski to create the soundtrack and that music is critical to the power of the film. The music she must express is a key element to Julie’s lesson in independence and the film uses that distinctive creation to emphasize the plight of its heroine as much as it uses the color blue. (Samples of the music can be found here (http://skynet.theblank.org/review/09.%20Julie%20-%20in%20her%20new%20apartment.mp3) and here (http://skynet.theblank.org/review/19.%20Olivier%20and%20Julie%20-%20Trial%20Composition.mp3) courtesy the Barfboro (http://www.theblank.org/blog/) blog.) This musical emphasis continues throughout the trilogy and, in fact, the team created a fictional composer who is referenced in each film - a musical touchstone for the characters. Because music is very important to the film Blue. It is centered on a piece of music, "Theme for the Unification of Europe," which Julie’s husband was composing at the time of his death and which haunts her throughout her odyssey.
That piece of music raises anther aspect of the film that can appear strange to us today looking through through the prism of history. Throughout Three Colors, Kieslowski was consciously emphasizing the theme of the unification of Europe. The Berlin Wall had fallen just a few years prior and there was a feeling of hope and optimism in Europe that Kieslowsky – particularly as a Pole – was trying to express in his work. That idealism seems almost naïve today given the messy reality of the European Union and the uncomfortable tension that has followed Sept. 11. But Kieslowsky was too shrewd and politically pragmatic to make any type of final statement on the matter as the climax of Red ably demonstrates.
Kieslowski, in the end, leaves you with more questions than answers. There is no pat ending to be found here. His characters depart the stories to live their lives along unknown new paths. The film leaves you with a montage of unforgettable imagery and a sense of understanding something that is bigger than yourself but still uniquely personal. In an interview shortly before his death, Kieslowski was asked what it was he was trying to capture in all of his films:
"Perhaps the soul," he responded. "In any case, a truth which I myself haven't found. Maybe time that flees and can never be caught."
A version of this essay first appeared on my website kleph.com (http://www.kleph.com).
©2005 C.J. Schexnayder
Writer(s): Krzysztof Kieslowski and
Krzysztof Piesiewicz
Starring: Juliette Binoche, Benoît Régent, Florence Pernel, Charlotte Véry,
Hélène Vincent
Released: 1993
Distributed by: Miramax (in the U.S.)
IMDB Link: Trois couleurs: Bleu (http://imdb.com/title/tt0108394/)
"Real artists find answers. The knowledge of the artisan is within the confines of his skills… Real knowledge is knowing how to live, why we live."
- Krzysztof Kieslowski, 1941-1996
The films of the late Polish filmmaker Krzysztof Kieslowski (left) are uniformly gorgeous, profound and awash with levels of symbolism and meaning that stay with the viewer long after they return to the mundane rigor of the routine world. During the late 1980s and early 1990s, his films were a staple of the art-house crowd and suffer, unjustly I feel, from that association. This is simply wonderful filmmaking that anyone can enjoy if they give it the proper chance.
The narrative style is clear and true although he doesn’t rely on plot to get his message across like typical blockbuster films, that isn’t to say his films aren’t accessible. His appeals to imagery, emotion and intellect are powerful enough for the viewer unused to such approaches to enjoy his films quite well. His films have an incredible intensity but earn it honestly rather than resorting to overwrought music, over emphasized camera angles and special effects.
Kieslowski was a documentary filmmaker who specialized in social issues when he made his first feature film, The Scar, in 1976. This film made him a leading figure in the Polish cinematic school of 'moral anxiety' and set the introspective tone for his works that followed. It is not hyperbole to regard his Three Colors (or Trois Couleurs since they were French-made films) trilogy as a masterpiece – a formidable assessment given the quality of all his work.
The trilogy was conceived as a series of films that correspond to the colors of the French flag and the ideals each represents – liberty, equality and brotherhood. They each start with the color of their title and then move outward into more and more abstract realms of symbolism before returning again to the center of the idea where they sprang. But this is not some artsy exegesis; this is how such ideas apply in a practical manner to one’s life.
"Millions of people have died for those ideals (liberty, equality, and fraternity). We decided to see how these ideals are realized practically and what they mean today," the director explained in an interview at the time. "We looked very closely at the three ideas, how they functioned in everyday life, but from an individual's point of view."
The first film, Blue (or Bleu), centers around Julie Vignon de Courcy – played by the shatteringly beautiful Juliette Binoche - the wife of a French composer who may or may not have created much of her husband's works. The film begins with a car wreck that claims the life of her husband and young daughter. From that point Julie then begins to shut herself off from her former life and the world around her. The tragedy has freed Julie from many of her emotional ties and responsibilities of her life and so, to escape the pain of her loss, she begins a purposeful destruction of what remains.
She is striving to become completely free to ease her suffering but it will also leave her completely alone and isolated. To to be truly free one must have nothing or, conversely, to lose everything is the only true way to gain one’s freedom. Like Dostoyevsky, Kieslowski seems to believe there is a cathartic aspect to suffering but he also believes in epiphany. At some point there has to be an understanding and transformation beyond the suffering. The existential response is insufficent for Kieslowski because the idea of complete liberty - complete independence - is obviously a destructive ideal for a society.
Watching this film you must keep aware that every shot, every element, everything is there for a reason. People milling about in the background, a cube of sugar, the name scrawled on a package someone is carrying - everything - is there on purpose. The first time we see Julie take any type of action is as she breaks a window, moments later we see her through a window after she has failed in a suicide attempt. The transparency of glass – how we can behold things through it although they remain untouchable – then becomes a theme running throughout the whole of the film. Up to and including the final frame. And that is just one example.
To iterate his theme of isolation, thoughout the film Kieslowski pulls you into Julie’s constantly shrinking world by literally making you see it through her eyes. These short strange interludes in the middle of scenes can be confusing for viewers used to the third-person narrative style ubiquitous in mainstream movies but their effect is dramatic. After the car crash there is a scene of a small tuft of down, very close and slightly out of focus, moving up and down. Nothing else. It is only later you realize you were seeing things from Julie’s point of view as she lay in her hospital bed on her side, breathing slowly, looking through her injured eye.
These "moments" gather momentum as the movie progresses until they merge completely with the regular flow of the narrative. Because it becomes clear as the past and the present continue to force their way into Julie's life that perfect freedom is impossible. For example, the music she and her husband were composing filters into her new world unbidden and, she is surprised to learn, without a connection to her.
Kislowski once said that Binoche’s willingness to take on the role inspired the entire trilogy. Her work here makes you understand why he would make such a sweeping statement. Binoche has always been best playing haunted characters and her somber beauty translates it well. She has been so consumed by grief that she has closed herself off even from her self – not able to cry and mourn for those she has lost. But still she suffers. And Binoche is able to express that though a legion of small and subtle effects in her manner. It is perhaps her greatest accomplishment as an actress.
One reason Blue and the Three Colors trilogy succeeds so well is the taught unity in their vision and the depth of the characters. A great deal of that must go to scriptwriter Krzysztof Piesiewicz, who Kieslowski had been working with since 1982. Allied with Piesiewicz, the grand visual aspirations of Kieslowski’s films gained a strong thematic foundation that made them even more complete and powerful. The duo worked on all of the directors most important films including the Decalogue cycle, The Double Life of Veronica and, finally, Three Colors. The subtle yet essential shadings of personality that permeate the film and bring the characters to life is the hallmark of Piesiewicz’s effort.
In addition, composer Zbigniew Preisner worked closely with Kieslowski to create the soundtrack and that music is critical to the power of the film. The music she must express is a key element to Julie’s lesson in independence and the film uses that distinctive creation to emphasize the plight of its heroine as much as it uses the color blue. (Samples of the music can be found here (http://skynet.theblank.org/review/09.%20Julie%20-%20in%20her%20new%20apartment.mp3) and here (http://skynet.theblank.org/review/19.%20Olivier%20and%20Julie%20-%20Trial%20Composition.mp3) courtesy the Barfboro (http://www.theblank.org/blog/) blog.) This musical emphasis continues throughout the trilogy and, in fact, the team created a fictional composer who is referenced in each film - a musical touchstone for the characters. Because music is very important to the film Blue. It is centered on a piece of music, "Theme for the Unification of Europe," which Julie’s husband was composing at the time of his death and which haunts her throughout her odyssey.
That piece of music raises anther aspect of the film that can appear strange to us today looking through through the prism of history. Throughout Three Colors, Kieslowski was consciously emphasizing the theme of the unification of Europe. The Berlin Wall had fallen just a few years prior and there was a feeling of hope and optimism in Europe that Kieslowsky – particularly as a Pole – was trying to express in his work. That idealism seems almost naïve today given the messy reality of the European Union and the uncomfortable tension that has followed Sept. 11. But Kieslowsky was too shrewd and politically pragmatic to make any type of final statement on the matter as the climax of Red ably demonstrates.
Kieslowski, in the end, leaves you with more questions than answers. There is no pat ending to be found here. His characters depart the stories to live their lives along unknown new paths. The film leaves you with a montage of unforgettable imagery and a sense of understanding something that is bigger than yourself but still uniquely personal. In an interview shortly before his death, Kieslowski was asked what it was he was trying to capture in all of his films:
"Perhaps the soul," he responded. "In any case, a truth which I myself haven't found. Maybe time that flees and can never be caught."
A version of this essay first appeared on my website kleph.com (http://www.kleph.com).
©2005 C.J. Schexnayder