the dimwit
by Douglas Messerli
Krzysztof Kieślowski and Krzysztof
Piesiewicz (screenplay), Krzysztof Kieślowski (director) Trois
couleurs: Blanc (Three Colors:
White) / 1994
There, however, he is met by another
Polish exile, Mikołaj (Janusz Gajjos), who offers him a strange job: to kill
someone who wants to be dead but doesn’t have the courage to do it himself. But
in order to fulfill the offer, Karol must return to his homeland. With no
passport or money, Karol hides in a large trunk which Mikołaj carries on as
part of his luggage.
Back in Warsaw, the trunk never arrives; it has been stolen, and when
the robbers open it in an outlying dump yard, they discover the hiding Karol,
attempting to rob him but, upon finding he has no money, beating him instead.
The miserable fool finally finds his
way back to the hairdressing salon where he once worked, now run by his brother
Jurek (Jerzy Stuhr); when he notices that the salon now has a neon sign, Jurek
responds “This in now Europe,” setting the tone for the changes in Polish life
that the rest of White chronicles.
Karol goes back to work cutting hair,
but also finds a job as security guard to a group of men who plan to buy up
land outside the city and sell the parcels back to others who, they have heard,
are planning a large Ikea-like warehouse in the area. They openly discuss their
deal in front of what appears to be the sleeping guard, whom they describe as a
“dimwit.”
If Karol is a kind of dimwit, he soon
proves that is also very clever, as he secretly buys up some of the sites
himself, forcing them to buy them from him. When they attempt to threaten him,
he claims that if he dies, he has willed it all to the Church.
It would appear that Karol has now reached the “equality” that he has
sought, and which is at the center of this White section of Kieślowski’s
triptych. But the now-changed man is also determined to get revenge, to
humiliate his wife for her lack of love and refusal to ever join him in Poland.
The metaphor, of course, is the relationship of Poland—they were seeking to
join the European Union at the time of this film—and the rest of the continent,
a subtheme, as well, in Blue, where
the dead composer was working on a symphony about European unity.
Hatching a deeper plot, Karol finds the body of a Russian, which he
claims to be himself, sending a letter to his former wife in which he wills her
a large sum of money if she will return to Poland for the funeral.
Angrily, she does so, the two meeting and, finally, consummating their
former marriage. But soon after, she is arrested for the supposed murder of her
husband, and is imprisoned.
Now he is truly equal—with the all the sinister implications of that
word. If she has been evil to him, he has now been the same to her as well.
“People don’t really want to be equal,” Kieślowski argued in an interview.
“They generally mean that they want to be more
equal.”
This film, with its “idiot savant,” has a long tradition in Eastern
European and, in particular, Polish literary history (one need only to recall
Jerzy Kosiński’s novel and movie, Being
There) [see My Year 2016}. And
the director’s dark view of the human race is perfectly at home in what Roger
Ebert has described as an “anti-comedy.” Yet, strangely, the movie makes few
judgments, preferring instead for the viewers to make their own perceptions
about the character’s behavior. Besides, we will see the couple briefly, again,
in Red, just as we saw them for a few
instants in Blue, and, in that sense,
perhaps they are more linked to the characters to those films than it would
first seem.
Los Angeles, November 30, 2017
Reprinted from World Cinema Review (November 2017).
No comments:
Post a Comment