The Pianist (2002)
Adrien Brody deserves all the kudos
he is getting for this film. As does Roman Polanski.
"The Pianist" may be yet another WWII film. But it
puts a face on the Jewish survivors and heroes of
that war that are so important to know.
For over an hour, we are in Nazi
occupied Warsaw and it is horrible and it is horrible
and it is horrible. The things we are forced to witness
are just about as depressing and as stunningly nauseating
as we can imagine. There are fucking dead bodies,
dead children, in the streets and nobody says or does
anything. It is revolting and sad and sick and perverted
and unfathomable. Worse yet, it stings of reality.
It's so amazing because it seems both surreal and
utterly real at the same time. This is the horror
of Nazi occupied Poland and the amazing wonderment
of Polanski's film.
In many ways this reminded me of
a Fassbinder film, if Fassbinder had lived long enough
to mature, because it is bleak and dark and frightening
and perverse. And the players know it is unbelievable
and surreal and sickening and yet they continue on
through it, almost saying nothing about what they
are witnessing, what they are experiencing. We know
that if they utter a single word about what is happening,
the whole facade of denial that they have engaged
will crumble because the horror of the truth is unapproachable.
If one did acknowledge the horror of the reality,
they would simply crumble into a quivering mass of
despair and sadness.
So, the Jewish people presented
in the film simply go on and on and on. I can't begin
to describe the horrors that we witness here. I don't
want to describe them. I want to push them out of
my mind as some archaic, impossible tragedy that occurred
so many years ago now that it is inconceivable as
a reality. I want to believe that something like this
could never, ever happen again. Not in my lifetime.
Not in my world.
In my mind, I know things as tragic
and as horrible and as unfathomable as we see here
happen in countries far from America everyday. The
horror of war and racism and ethnic cleansing continues
daily. It is revolting. This film is a constant prodding
finger. We want to scream at the screen. We cannot
believe what is happening. We are angered that no
one does anything. Nobody says anything. We want to
believe that this could never, ever occur again.
I know we've seen the horrors of
the Nazi empire for almost 50 years in cinema now.
But it never gets easier and Polanski is right to
continue to remind us. Polanski would be right to
be angry and indignant and bitter and accusatory.
Of course, he's not. He's controlled and intelligent
and thoughtful and wide-eyed and he presents a film
that is so as well.
Midway through the film, "The Pianist"
evolves into a sort of interesting version of "Castaway."
Polanski and Brody engage in a sort of man against
the elements (against a backdrop of the inhumanity
of man) that is really unique and fresh in Holocaust
films. Brody's titular pianist is seemingly the only
Jew left alive in Warsaw. He shuffles and pokes through
the rubble, avoiding the remaining Nazis, trying simply
to survive. It is an amazing performance and one that
is as relevant and interesting as Tom Hanks' stranded
modern man. For almost an hour, "The Pianist" is nearly
as silent as a melodrama from 1920. And the sadness
and sorrow that is evoked is only surpassed by this
undeniable belief, this intrinsic understanding, that
if one were in similar circumstance, one would struggle
to survive.
"The Pianist" is an amazing film.
But it is also as difficult to watch as one can imagine.
The images and moments we endure are sometimes simply
too much. We have to look away. We have to stop looking
for a moment. The unceasing horror of it all overpowers
us.
In the end, the film reminds us
that the madness of man, the horror man is capable
of committing towards his fellow humans, is only fleeting.
In the end, after an interlude of madness and despair,
of horror and the deafening hush of solitude, music
returns. Art returns. Life returns.
The nature of humankind is that
it survives. And its civility will always return when
the madness of tyrants and inhuman dictators is overcome...
and the absurdity subsides.
In the end, "The Pianist" reminds
us that the horror of WWII was just a brief, albeit
repugnant, intermission in the marvelous concerto
that is humanity and life.
Notes:
Viewed in Austin in February 2003
