Cibbuano
RubySoho
Morgan Bell
Matt Shea
David O'Connell
Mountain FogKatyn
November 4th 2009 07:13
It was a momentous occasion in 1989 when the Berlin Wall finally crumbled at the hands of the people it had separated for so long. The celebrations were overwhelming as families, countries, and continents reunited.
But when the dust settled and the demolition tractors retired home, a strange and careful reckoning began. For almost 50 years the history of Communist Eastern Europe had been frozen like an ice sheet. ‘Party first’ doctrines often rubbed uncomfortably against factual acuity, and the secret police services were experts at making uncomfortable truths disappear. With the dismantling of the Wall the ice began to crack and melt, history flowing out in such a raging torrent it threatened to bowl over those who had been kept in a half century of darkness about the fate of loved ones and countrymen.
One of the most shocking stories coming out of this historical reconciliation was the murder of approximately 15,000 Polish officers at the hands of the Soviet Secret Police in 1940. Among those killed was the father of acclaimed Polish filmmaker, Andrzej Wajda, and the screenwriter/director has set out to document the massacre with his film, “Katyn”.
Of course, making a film that cuts so close to the personal and patriotic bone is always a risk for a filmmaker. A reverence for the material can dominate the screenplay, interfering with narrative structure and crippling the final product. It’s unfortunate that such is the case with “Katyn”: this is a film full of importance, but in an effort to provide the scope, Wajda has lost his way with the story.
And that’s a shame, because things start out very well.
It’s 1939 and Poland is being crushed by the Hitler-Stalin pact. As the Red Army occupies the east they round up Polish officers, placing them in interminable custody. Determined to remain loyal to the army despite his fears for their fate, Polish cavalry captain, Andrzej (Artur Zmijewski) refuses to flee with his wife, Anna (Maja Ostaszewska) to the relative safety of the German-occupied west.
These early scenes are quickly set up and expertly filmed, Wajda bringing his considerable experience to bear as the heart-stricken Anna – the closest the film ever comes to a protagonist – begs her resolute husband to leave the loosely secured area where he and his fellow officers are being detained. It’s powerful, focussed stuff and has the audience onboard immediately.
Quickly, the film skips forward through the years. 1939 becomes 1940 and then 1943. The Nazis have broken their pact with the Soviets and, as they advance into Russia, stumble across the mass graves containing thousands of Polish officers. The men’s families in Krakow endure a terrifying wait as German public broadcasts announce the names of the dead.
It’s here that the film starts to lose its way. Anna is sidelined in favour of a dead general’s wife (Danuta Stenka) and it turns out to be a slightly discombobulating switch, deadening “Katyn”’s narrative drive.
Things only get worse as the film skips forward again to 1945. The Soviets have reclaimed Poland and are in the process of rewriting history; this time it will last for 45 years. The truth of what happened in “Katyn” is plainly obvious to the Polish public, but they are browbeaten by Soviet propaganda and anybody who disagrees with the official version is quickly spirited away.
Wajda once again switches up his characters, introducing new players to the centre of the frame who barely last five minutes before they’re disposed of by the secret police. By this stage it becomes obvious what the filmmakers up to, driving home with awkward thrusts the fact that the Katyn tragedy affected just about every Pole whether they were young or old.
And there’s no denying this truth, but the fashion in which it is displayed onscreen is frustratingly schizophrenic. Surely Wajda and his fellow screenwriters – Andrzej Mularczyk, Przemyslaw Nowakowski and Wladyslaw Pasikowski – would have been better to stick with Anna, the character whose plight they so compellingly set up in the early scenes. As it is, the film lacks impact, the audience disenfranchised from the onscreen action.
It might simply be a case of a troublesome adaptation: “Katyn” is based on Mularczyk’s own book, “Post Mortem” (which I haven’t read), and seems to give away its literary origins with its over ambitious scope and weight of different characters.
It’s a shame, because the film has some great attributes. Fine performances often hide the lack of character, while Pawel Edelman’s shimmering photography is frequently fantastic, his use of light giving the entire film a burnished feel in league with the tiresome grief that many of the central figures endure. Krzysztof Penderecki’s score is also impressive, taking the subtle, mournful path to the emotions.
In the end, Wajda probably cares very little for outside opinions of his film: he’s stated that his purpose with “Katyn” has always been to give catharsis to the Polish people. One would hope it does that, particularly given the massive reception it received in its homeland. But for those outside Poland, “Katyn” stumbles on some of the most basic of filmmaking principles, leaving it lacking in impact and in danger of remaining a too often forgotten footnote in modern history.
"Katyn" is now available on DVD from Umbrella Entertainment
I say: a fine history lesson but poor film that frequently pushes away the viewer.
See it for: an education on one of the most frightening crimes of World War II.
*This image is from Magic Carpet
*This image is from International House
| 43 |
| Vote |
Comments (4)
Add Comments
Read More
