Episode VIII- You shall not give false testimony against your neighbor

            Part VIII of Krzysztof Kieslowski’s Decalogue, titled “You shall not give false testimony against your neighbor” does not follow Kieslowski’s usual trend of not directly illustrating the commandment referenced in the title of the episode. The messages of parts I-VII have been more subliminal than explicit. Part VIII, however, was not as difficult to match with its commandment. Though the entire episode is not about lies and deceit, the plot stems from an earlier occurrence of a woman’s refusal to lie. The way the storyline plays out makes it seem as though Kieslowski is saying that it is okay, justifiable, and even necessary to lie sometimes, rather than saying that lying is something everyone should stay far away from.

            Zofia, a Polish ethics professor, is visited at school one day by a professional acquaintance, a Jew named Elzbieta. Elzbieta asks to sit in on one of Zofia’s lectures, and Zofia more than happily agrees. During the lecture, Elzbieta tells a story that really hits home with Zofia. Unbeknownst to the students in the class, it is the story of their first encounter. Elzbieta was only 6 years old at the time, afraid for her life, and hiding from the Gestapo. Elzbieta was being moved from her hiding place to move in with Zofia and her husband, who were part of the Zegota, the Polish underground. After meeting Elzbieta, Zofia informs her that because of her and her husband’s devout Catholic faith, they are no longer willing to hide Elzbieta because it would require them to lie to the government. Elzbieta leaves right before curfew, and the two do not meet again until that fateful day at the university. The encounter haunts both of them their entire lives.

            In the beginning of the film, Zofia tells her students that “nothing is more precious than the life of a child”. That quote sticks in the mind of the viewer for the remainder of the film as you are forced to question how Zofia could believe that after what we find out she did to Elzbieta. The episode is mainly about forgiveness, reconciliation, and closure.

            These three elements are higlighted in the diegesis of the film. While most of the other parts in the series are more dark and gloomy, Episode VIII is one that begins and ends with sunshine, nice weather, and even birds singing. Out of the 5 parts I watched, this is the first time I have seen bright lighting and the use of happier, more peaceful music. I believe this change represents the fact that there is still a possibility for good after sin.

            I noticed a few things in this episode that connected it to the others. The first and most evident was a story told by a student in the first 5 minutes of the film. The story was the plot line of the Decalogue’s part II. I thought this was a very interesting technique used by Kieslowski to draw the films together. Another technique I noticed was that Kieslowski used the same setting for all 10 parts: a cramped Warsaw apartment.

            After it aired in 1988, the film gained a reputation as one of the best and most important in the whole series. This does not surprise me at all, as it was my favorite as well. As I mentioned earlier, Episode VIII is one that actually gave the viewer hope that wrongs could eventually be made right. 

Zofia and Elzbieta in the middle of a very serious conversation

Episode VII- You Shall Not Steal

As we progress through this series of films by Krzysztof Kieslowski, his mastery of pace, lighting, and character development become increasingly evident. Episode VII continues to show his powerful storytelling techniques. He uses several tropes to really rope us into the emotion and conflicted nature of the characters in this film.

This episode revolves around a small family of four: Majka, Ania, Ewa, and Stefan. Each character is developed rapidly, yet thoroughly in ~60 minutes. Majka is the central character, initially Ania's sister, but later revealed to be her mother. Ewa is the overprotective mother of both girls, who later is revealed to be Ania's grandmother. Stefan is depicted as the rather aloof father figure in the film, as he seems to tune out the noise created by the three women in his life by tinkering with a pipe organ.

Kieslowski uses a rather quick pace in this film to relay a lot of information quickly about his characters, but not so that it feels hurried. The pace is a wonderful balancing act, allowing us to glean the necessary information and at the same time develop a connection to the characters.

An auditory trope that is essential to the plot is the sound of little Ania crying in the middle of the night due to nightmares. Majka's lack of confidence in waking and consoling Ania is one of the factors that lends to the thought that perhaps Ania would be better off with Ewa. There is a definite rift between Majka and Ewa as the two compete for the "real mom" title.

This rift is the catalyst for the Majka's kidnapping of Ania. She is portrayed as a thief, but a kind of good thief. She takes Ania to a carousel immediately after kidnapping her, and initially one might think she's simply playing a prank on her mother, intending to return once she's had her fun. We quickly realize that's not the case as she attempts to reconnect with Ania's father and start anew with him. When this doesn't pan out, she attempts to flee to Canada.

Majka's theft of Ania is a sort of punishment for her mother. Majka felt as though she had been robbed of motherhood by her own mother. In a sense, she was merely restoring what had been taken from her in the first place. It is this powerful sense of restoration that makes the kidnapping seem justified. However, Ewa truly loves Ania and wants the best for her, so we are torn between who deserves her. The situation is evocative of the two women before King Solomon in the Bible.

Kieslowski has Ania caressing, holding, and sleeping on her "new" mother. This trope is carried throughout the film and is crucial to the last sequence. When Majka realizes that she has failed to escape from her mother with Ania, she makes a rash decision to board the train and flee by herself. The sequence at the train depot uses a variety of shot compositions and various angles to draw us into the emotion of these final moments. When Majka chooses to leave, I believe she is kidnapping herself, in a sense. Majka commits the greatest theft of all, robbing her daughter of her true mother.

Episode 6: Thou shalt not commit adultery

Continuing our journey of viewing the Decalogue series, we reach Decalogue VI, in which Kieslowski discusses the commandment "Thou shalt not commit adultery." Tomek is a nine-teen year old orphan who lives with the mother of a friends and works at a local post office. He has been observing and spying on Magda, a woman in her thirties. Magda lives in the building right next to Tomek and he spies on her in the evenings with his telescope. Tomek is always trying to find ways to see Magda. He sends her false notices from the post office so she will have to come down there. He calls her frequently when spying on her just to hear her voice. Even when Magda has her boyfriend over her apartment, Tomek reports gas leaks to ruin their evenings. Tomek eventually gets a job as a milk man just to see her. Tomek eventually tells Magda he is spying on her and she first does not believe it but sees that it is true and becomes angry. Tomek gets punched in the face by Magda’s boyfriend because he was spying. The next day when replacing Magda’s milk, Tomek claims to love Magda and wants nothing from her, but eventually asks her out to a café for ice cream and she accepts. Tomek is very excited, runs around outside with his milk cart with joy, and accidently bumps into this mysterious man the reoccurs throughout the Decalogue series. “The mystery character often appears in Decalogue at important moments like this, where a choice can truly alter the course of the future” (http://www.damaris.org/content/content.php?type=5&id=716). They go out for ice cream and talk and go back to Magda’s place. Magda claims to show Tomek what love is really about and causes him to ejaculate early by just placing his hand on her legs. Tomek runs out of her apartment and crosses paths with the mystery man again. His view of love has now been altered and crushed and he seems to want no part of it. Magda however sees that his love was genuine and discovers a side of love that she hasn’t seen before. Magda wants Tomek to come back but Tomek has slit his wrists. Magda’s feelings for Tomek grow as she waits for his return from the hospital. Magda eventually runs into Tomek at the post office again and Tomek tells her that he is no longer spying.

          Viewing Decalogue VI made me see how altered the meaning of love has become in society. Tomek and Magda really need to reflect on what it really means to love someone because both of their views, whether it be spying on someone or just engaging in sexual relations, were blinding them to see what it really is. Even though the film does not deal with adultery relating to sexual relations with another’s persons husband or wife, the film displays adultery in a way of lust, which was evident throughout the film. “Adultery is forbidden because humans were created to enjoy love on a much deeper level with one person in a covenantal relationship. It is for this reason that Jesus broadens the definition of adultery in Matthew’s Gospel to include lust towards another person” (http://www.damaris.org/content/content.php?type=5&id=728).

Episode 5- Thou Shalt Not Kill

Part V of Krzysztof Kieslowski’s masterful Decalogue focuses on the 5th commandment, which reads in the King James Bible, “Thou shalt not kill.” This chapter is easily the most intense and leaves an indelible impression on the viewer.  The viewer is presented with three characters: a taxi driver on a power trip; a young man who mischievously roams around Warsaw; and a lawyer who has recently passed the bar exam. The taxi driver is a man who has fallen into corruption, albeit relatively harmless corruption. He leers at young women and drives away from potential fares for reasons known only to him. He is not an evil man per se, but represents a humanity that has fallen from grace.

The lawyer, on the other hand, is a clear representation of idealism. He truly believes that things can be better and that he can make a positive impact on his surrounding society. The troubled young man perhaps is the one that swings (dramatically) from the extremes of evil and innocence. One moment he is dropping rocks onto cars from an overpass. The next moment he is pausing to look at a portrait of a young girl. There is an inner struggle within this young man. He is drawn to mischief and evil but is equally drawn to innocence. Emotionally, he is like a toddler.

His naivete is on display in the photography store where he inquires about blowing up an old photograph of a young woman and asking the clerk with sincerity whether it possible to determine if someone was alive from a photograph. The clerk laughs it off, but this is a glimpse into this young man. Here is a person who has been emotionally stunted possibly from abandonment and was clearly never raised by a mother who taught him how to control the evil inside him. The taxi driver is a good example of someone who has succumbed to evil, but only displays just enough to never really get into trouble. He can control his evil. The young man, however, has no such filter. He has no societal concern whatsoever.

The inner struggle comes to a head when the young man murders the taxi driver then turns on the car stereo. Immediately after allowing evil to prevail, the man is confronted with sheer innocence in the form of a kids song. The lyrics even cut to his quick, singing about a brave lion, and he rips the stereo out of the car and throws it into a mud puddle. The image of the stereo in the puddle lingers, leading one to surmise that this is the man discarding his innocence once and for all.

The lawyer may, in fact, be a voice of God from within the film. Because of His love, God has given humankind free will, allowing for the choice of sin. God is morally opposed to sin; God and evil and two utterly disparate entities. God is necessarily and essentially good and does not create evil. Therefore, when the lawyer exclaims, “I abhor it!” over and over again at the end of the film, this is perhaps how God feels. Stephen Innes in his article on Culturewatch: Decalogue, agrees. He writes that the lawyer’s “anguish is a reflection of the anguish of God. God abhors murder, thus the commandment was given which prohibits it.” God’s desire is for humans to follow Him and grow closer to Him in a relationship forged through guidance found in Scripture and His heart breaks for all that choose evil over good.

Kieslowski demonstrates an amazing control of tone, timing, and visual spacing. The tone is pitch-perfect. He establishes realism without sacrificing feeling. There is an ever-present undercurrent of tension that affords an uneasiness that assists in furthering his message. The pacing and editing brilliantly establish an unsettled realism. The best examples are the two death scenes. The murder of the taxi driver has all the uncomfortableness of a Coen Brothers murder scene without the flash. Kieslowski uses long cuts, adds a cyclist riding by, and a body that won’t die as devices to add to the viewer’s unease. It works. Everyone should feel uncomfortable at these moments. Murder is simply outside the way God intends things to be. Innes rightly points out that there is also a cold emptiness in the killing. This is not a Hollywood death scene glamorized and masochistic. Innes continues by adding that there is no emotional build-up or dramatic catharsis to help the viewer prepare or deal with the killings. Killing is not thrilling; it is chilling.

Christianity Within the Decalogue Series

I found that in the Decologue films, there is a general pattern of the committing of a sin, confession of that sin, and forgiveness and reconciliation.  Although this saving grace is depicted through the people whom the issue involves in each film, there are many accounts of symbolizing Jesus.  In the Christian faith, Jesus is the savior.  He saves the people from all of their sins, as long as they “take up their cross” and follow Him.  In each film, there are depictions of this.  There are multiple accounts of a “savior” that is forgiving the sinner.  The link at the bottom of this post provides many examples from different episodes of The Decalogue series that support this idea.  Specifically, “this redemptive pattern is easily recognized in the ultimately fruitful struggle of Dorota in Decalogue Two to reconcile with her husband; in the final confessions and reconciliations between the unfaithful husband and his wife in Three; and in the healing confession and reconciliation between the daughter and her father in the conclusion of Four.”  Those are only examples from the first four episodes, however it provides an insight on the way Kieslowski utilized this pattern throughout his work.

More specifically, there are several accounts of references to God and Jesus, an assumed Christian-like love, and examples of the saving grace of Jesus Christ throughout the Decalogue series, even though they may not be obvious.  In Christianity, the Christian community is “in favor of the building up of that community which is the Mystical Body of Christ,” and “in favor of the breaking down of the barriers of egoism, fear, sinfulness, between people that destroy that Body.”  Throughout the Decalogue episodes discussed so far, Kieslowski seems to investigate this certain theme of a new created community and a communion through self-isolation and diversity.  

Although it is sometimes difficult to see the Christian reference or the commandment that is supposed to be the point of each episode, this article truly points out those specific examples that we don’t originally see.  It points out the Christian references that we could understand if we simply delved into the episodes more and applied Christian thoughts to. 

http://www.signis.net/IMG/pdf/Kieslowski_Lloyd_Baugh_en.pdf 

The setting of the episodes in the Dekalog have really stood out to me. Each episode of the Dekalog is set in a dark, gray, gloomy Communist-era Polish housing development. To me, a western viewer, this setting seems very realistic. However, upon more research and examination the setting appears over simplified. Kieslowski as a documentary filmmaker native to Poland would have been able to create a true representation of realistic every-day life in Poland. Instead, he very intentionally chose this over-simplified route. He wrote in his autobiography "Kieslowski on Kieslowski"  that he "attempted to show individuals in difficult situations. All the contextual social difficulties, or difficulties of everyday life, remained somewhere in the background."

                                               Photo from: whitecitycinema.com
Kieslowski's autobiography can be found at http://www.amazon.com/Kieslowski-Krzysztof/dp/0571173284/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1332202162&sr=1-1

Episode 4: Honor Thy Father and Mother

                                    Photo from: filmsufi.blogspot.com
In the fourth episode of the Decalogue series, Kieslowski tackles the fifth commandment: thou shalt honor thy father and mother. We see that Kieslowski is continuing in the same manner as the previous three films; he is not addressing the commandments literally from the view of Christianity but rather through a different possible alternative meaning to God's commandment. In this episode, that possible interpretation shifts the focus of the episode from honoring parents to incest. Twenty year old Anka is being raised by her father since her mother's death when she was 5 days old. When her father, Michal,  is away on a business trip, she discovers an envelope labeled "to be opened after my death". Upon opening the letter, she finds another sealed envelope inside addressed to her in her mother's handwriting. The melodramatic scene showing her reading the letter has been left out contrary to what we would expect from Hollywood conventions. She seemingly recites the letter to her father at his arrival and says that he is not her biological father. Anka now feels safe admitting that she suffers from incestuous desires and believes that Michal reciprocates. He does admit to it but does not give in when she tries to seduce him. When she awakes the next morning, she sees Michal walking away from the house. She runs outside believing he is abandoning her and admits to forging the letter before learning he was on his way to buy milk. The real letter has not even been opened. The absence of that scene  works its magic in another capacity - we now know why the scene was left out and can make our own discoveries. The episode ends with them burning the unopened letter together, never to know the contents. This ending may seem like a disappointment but it fits with the episode's handling of human imperfections. The choice to never know the contents of the letter is cowardly but it is perfectly human - many would take this easy way out. Throughout the episode, Kieslowski does not shy away from showing the human imperfections of his characters. Make no mistake, this is not a Hollywood style film with a fairy-tale setting and happily-ever-after ending. The use of little dialogue draws the viewer into the story by using body language and facial expressions to show the carnal side of the human experience. Everything is not handed down on a narrative platter. The emotions are real; Anka does not cry daintily, she sobs realistically. Some scenes may seem to be held for a beat too long but they cause you to feel uncomfortable, to think. The entire episode causes you to think and evaluate the way you perceive the ten commandments and the world around you. As Anka says in the episode, we must learn to read between the lines.