#589: KIEŚLOWSKI, Krzysztof: Three Colors: White (1994)
THREE COLORS {Spine #587}
KIEŚLOWSKI, Krzysztof (France)
#772: Blind Chance (1981)
#837: Dekalog (1988)
#837: A Short Film About Killing/A Short Film About Love (1988)
#359: The Double Life Of Véronique (1991)
#588: Three Colors: Blue (1993)
The Booklet
Commentary
None.
Cinema lesson
KIEŚLOWSKI, Krzysztof (France)
Three Colors: White [1994]
Spine #589
Blu-ray
Blu-ray
The most plalyful and also the grittiest of Krzysztof Kieślowski's Three Colors films follows the adventures of Karol Karol, a Polish immigrant living in France. The hapless hairdresser opts to leave Paris for his native Warsaw when his wife sues him for divorce (her reason: their marriage was never consummated) and then frames him for arson after setting her own salon ablaze. White, which goes on to chronicle Karol Karol's elaborate revenge plot, manages to be both a ticklish dark comedy about the economic inequalities of Eastern and Western Europe and a sublime reverie on twisted love.
91 minutes
Color
Color
2.0 Surround
in French and Polish
1:85:1 aspect ratio
Criterion Release 2011
Director/Writers
Screenplay by Krzysztof Piesiewicz and Krzysztof Kieślowski.
Kieślowski was 52 when he directed White.
**
Kieślowski’s earliest films were documentaries. Four are included on the three discs of this trilogy: The Face (1966); The Tram (1966); Seven Women of Different Ages (1978); and Talking Heads (1980).
He began to win prizes at film festivals, and No End (1985), though controversial, brought him further international notice. He also began relationships with two collaborators who would remain with him for the rest of his career: the composer Zbigniew Preisner and trial lawyer Krzysztof Piesiewicz, who co-wrote this, and all of Kieślowski’s future screenplays.
In 1989, he made Dekalog (Spine #837) — one of the finest film cycles of all time.
His final four films (The Double Life of Veronique [1991] and Three Colors: Blue [1993], White [1993], and Red [1994]) -- all made with French and Romanian-born producer Marin Karmitz's money -- cemented his fame.
Other Kieślowski films in the Collection:
#772: Blind Chance (1981)
#837: Dekalog (1988)
#837: A Short Film About Killing/A Short Film About Love (1988)
#359: The Double Life Of Véronique (1991)
#588: Three Colors: Blue (1993)
The Film
White — the second of the Three Colors trilogy — has been referred to as an “anti-comedy.” It could also be thought of as “anti-love story,” or just a plain old revenge flick.
A suitcase clunks along on a conveyer belt, under the opening credits. Cut to:
Karol Karol (Zbigniew Zamachowski)’s feet, striding purposefully along the sidewalk. He slows down, and stops next to a pair of other feet. The camera pans up and we see Karol’s face, confused. He starts to walk again (the couple belonging to the pair of feet are kissing, of course), looking lost.
After asking for directions, he heads up towards the same steps we watched Julie Vignon de Courcy (Juliette Binoche) mount when she went looking for Sandrine (Florence Pernel). Cut back to:
The suitcase — briefly — then right back to Karol running up the steps. In a stunning sequence, Kieślowski films Karol’s feet, stopped on a step, pigeons flapping their wings / cut / camera follows a flying pigeon / cut / on Karol’s face, just as the pigeon shits all over him.
The courtroom scene plays out until we see Julie trying to enter, as we saw in Blue. The judge asks Karol if the marriage was consummated and as he replies, “no” ...
... cut to a gorgeous shot of Dominique (Julie Delpy), wearing a white wedding veil, the frame bathed in a soft white light.
Things go from bed to worse for Karol, and as he shivers on a sidewalk, we see a replay of the old woman trying to put a bottle in the recycling machine from Blue — here, it’s an old man.
Karol and Dominique reconnect at the hair salon, have sex, and then she sets the place on fire, forcing Karol to flee for fear of being arrested for arson. He plays an old Polish song on comb and paper in the Metro, and meets a fellow Pole, Mikołaj (Janus Gajos). They become friends and, desperate to go back home to Poland, Karol — who has no passport or money — smuggles himself inside the suitcase we’ve since the opening shot.
Mikołaj is waiting at the baggage carousel — but the suitcase never shows up. In the next scene, we watch an old beat-up car pull up a snowy, depressing landscape. The thugs who stole the suitcase are surprised to find a human being inside. They beat him up and leave him, bleeding in the snow.
As Karol gradually comes back to his senses, he looks around the desolate landscape and sees a garbage dump nearby.
“Jesus, home at last.”
The rest of film takes place in early 90’s Warsaw, as Kieślowski drags us along on a strange adventure which ends in tragic vengeance with a touch of sign-language love at the bitter end. Not only that, but you have to watch the next sequel (Red) to see how it all ends up!
A masterpiece bookended by two others.
A masterpiece bookended by two others.
Film Rating (0-60):
57
The ExtrasThe Booklet
Seventy-eight page booklet featuring essays by film critics Colin MacCabe, Nick James, Stuart Klawans, and Georgina Evans; an excerpt from Kieślowski on Kieślowski; and reprinted interviews with cinematographers Sławomir Idziak, Edward Klosiński; and Piotr Sobociński.
Commentary
None.
Cinema lesson
With director Krzysztof Kieślowski.
On the opening scene. In one the more erudite film lessons of all time, Kieślowski confesses to us that he was having trouble making this opening scene work. Cutting in the suitcase on the conveyor belt solved his problem.
He then goes on to the next scene, Karol heading up the steps to his divorce hearing. Kieślowski explains how he discovered in editing that the medium shot of Karol running up the steps was not enough to set up the pigeon shit joke — so what follows was an insert shot — perfectly unified — and he further explains how the prop man squirted the stuff on Zamachowski.
Of course, the pigeon shit is so much more than just a joke — in the first few minutes of the film, and in so many different ways, with little dialogue, Kieślowski has clearly sketched out this sad-looking character, who is suddenly humiliated; and will continue to be humiliated in the scenes to come.
Finally — in response to the interviewer’s question — he discusses the little clues he leaves for his future audience. For example, all the cuts on the suitcase titillates the imagination and — 24 minutes later, we all know!
Video essay
By film critic Tony Rayns.
Two video interviews
One with Piesiewicz; the other with Zamachowski and Delpy.
Documentary 1
On the making of White.
Kieślowski documentaries
Seven Women of Different Ages (1978) and Talking Heads (1980)
Talking Heads is one my favorite early Kieślowski docs. He begins by asking three questions to a baby, none of which receive a verbal response. He then goes to a one-year-old, then two-year-old, etc. until he interviews a woman who is 100 (born in 1879).
By film critic Tony Rayns.
Two video interviews
One with Piesiewicz; the other with Zamachowski and Delpy.
Documentary 1
On the making of White.
Kieślowski documentaries
Seven Women of Different Ages (1978) and Talking Heads (1980)
Talking Heads is one my favorite early Kieślowski docs. He begins by asking three questions to a baby, none of which receive a verbal response. He then goes to a one-year-old, then two-year-old, etc. until he interviews a woman who is 100 (born in 1879).
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