Last September I received a lovely invitation to review the
documentary submissions to the 15th Polish Film Festival in Los
Angeles, held for a week in October. It
was a group of solid films, funded by a variety of public state and regional
organizations, such as Polish Television, the National Audiovisual Institute, including
other Polish and European funds. These documentaries
show the healthy state of documentary filmmaking, made possible by programs
promoting quality, and relying on a rich tradition of cultivating documentary
cinema. I am very thankful to Vladek Juszkiewicz, the founder and director of the festival, for this opportunity to savor the moving humanism of Polish cinema. (My first film viewing experiences in Buenos Aires in the seventies were deeply shaped by the films of Wajda and Zanussi).
As John Grierson, the father of documentary, observed many
years ago, good documentaries both educate and entertain. And I found that to be the case of the films I had the pleasure to review.
Children Calling
is an observational piece on a helpline for children and teenagers, staffed
with sympathetic listeners, who provide common sense but not professional
advice. It is done in a strict verité style, with an emphasis on
close-ups and extreme close-ups of the young women answering the phones. The viewer hears snippets of life stories – some quite dramatic – over a year. The
passing of seasons is nicely recorded, and adequately conveys the flow of time.
The film is framed by shots of home-made toys, and at regular intervals, the
antics of a dog.
The 30 minute-length
matches adequately the scope of the film: to catch without any editorial
comment, voice-over or preliminary text, the everyday activities of a small
institution, peopled by caring individuals.
The joys and limitations of the cinéma
vérité style are well exemplified in this professionally executed short
film.
Albert Cinema
(2013) by Agniezka Zwiefka, also chooses a mostly cinéma verité approach to tackle its subject matter: to record the
making of an amateur film by a motley group of homeless men living in a
shelter.
Eschewing a narrator or any explanation
about these characters, except for what they reveal to the camera, the film
slowly builds a very moving portrait of broken lives held together by dreams
and hopes. The protagonist of this group
effort is a rugged man, a former alcoholic hippie, eloquent in front of an
unflinching camera/confessional, who finds redemption and a renewed
relationship with his estranged son, after premiering the film.
There is a nice fit
between the length of the film (to fit an hour-long television slot) and the
leisurely pace in which the story unfolds, expertly edited to build a climax
and a resolution.
In A Diary of a Journey (2013), directed by
Piotr Stasik, cinéma vérité is again
the style of choice to record the summer-long journey through the Polish
countryside of a classically trained photographer, now in his seventies, who
takes a young high-school student as his apprentice.
The charm of this documentary is two-fold:
the geographical journey in search of interesting faces, seeped in the everyday
of rural life, and also the mentoring process involving an old artist with an
adventuresome life and a young man getting ready to live.
Like Children
Calling and Albert Cinema, there
is no narrator explaining the context or who these characters are – just a few
shots of 1960s fashion photographs introduce the older professional as an
established figure – and what pushes them to take this trip. The beauty of the rural landscape is lovingly
captured, as are the tough and warm inhabitants of the small places they visit.
A portrait of the
artist as an old man and a record of a satisfying artistic experience, A Diary of a Journey is skillfully
edited to make the mundane details of traveling an exhilarating experience (a
fender-bender, a swim, cooking), culminating in a moving revelation of a man
assessing his life when most of it has already been lived.
Joanna (2013),
director by Aneta Kopacz, is another remarkable observational portrait, in this
case that of a young mother and wife dying of cancer. Doing it in a strict verité style was a bold choice, one that both benefited the
narrative structure and facilitated the non-intrusive relationship between the
camera and the titular protagonist. It also avoided the pitfalls of melodrama
in the building of a story that ends in death and sorrow.
In a feat of editing bravura, Joanna ends up being a contemplative
take on youth and death, motherhood and marriage, love, nature and the tangible
world. Tweaking the chronology and
trusting the viewer to figure out the emotional direction of the story, Joanna culminates in a celebration of
love conquering death, by showing the protagonist’s young son learning to ride
his bike with the help of his mother.
The humanity of the portrait, movingly built over the 50 minutes of a
television slot, is accomplished with grace and technical skill.
(It shouldn’t come as a surprise that this notable
documentary was produced by the Wajda Studio).
A Dream of Warsaw (2014),
direted by Krzysztof Magowski, is an accomplished example of the modern music
documentary, like the ones pioneered by Martin Scorsese (Shine a Light, No Direction
Home). If it must be fascinating for a Polish audience to see the
multilayered relationship between a well-known rock singer and his times – the
60s to the 90s – unfold through archival materials and interviews, much more so
to an international audience who is not familiar with the iconic figure of
Czeslaw Niemen. What bursts on the
screen is the view of a parallel world, one behind the Iron Curtain until the
collapse of Communism
, with a musical figure as iconic as the Beatles and the
Rolling Stones, tangled up with politics since his beginnings as the popular
singer who became the king of Polish rock
Like Citizen
Kane, the documentary is built around a question: Who was Czeslaw
Niemen? Through multiple perspectives,
the viewer is treated to an examination of the
many facets displayed by the singer/composer over a long career,
spanning crucial decades of Polish history and politics. It makes for a fascinating portrait, where
the threads of the private and the public, the personal and the political are
inextricably woven.
Cabaret of Death
(2014), directd by Andrzej Celinski, is a multi-layered film dealing with a
straightforward subject: the cabaret acts staged by German and Polish Jewish
performers in the Warsaw ghetto and concentration camps during WWII. It has been the topic of various
documentaries, most effectively Ilona Ziok’s Kurt Gerron’s Karussell (1999) about the Weimar era German actor
and director imprisoned in Therensienstadt.
Cabaret of death is not only an
excellent contribution to the historical documentary but also a solid example
of how film technique can be used to teach and entertain.
These fine works attest to the variety and quality of a film
genre that matters to cultural organizations in Poland, thus ensuring the
healthy state of a type of cinema born with the invention of the Lumière’s
cinématographe.
The best documentary award of this 15th edition
went to A Diary of Journey, with its
young director Pitr Stasik on hand to receive the prize during the gala opening
of the festival at the Egyptian Theatre in Hollywood.