Ashes and Diamonds

"Ashes and Diamonds" (Polish, 1958): And, this is the third of Wajda's trilogy about WWII in Poland, or perhaps better stated, inside the Polish people. This one is set on the last night of the war, and the following first day of official peace & freedom from German domination. As with both of the other films, nothing is as simple as it might first appear to us, or to the story's characters. Although it might not be "necessary" to view this trilogy three nights in a row (as I did), they SHOULD be seen in sequence. The writer and director chose exceptionally interesting and symbolic moments in time to place these stages. Note: NONE are upbeat, optimistic considerations of what war creates, except perhaps Wajda's inclination that the Poles do what they MUST for the greater good, even when it is for their individual worst.

The post-war years were a difficult time for much of Eastern Europe, and ended with that region being plunged into dictatorship; so in many ways, it's surprising to see a film about that era (made under the communists) whose heroes are a pair of anti-communist assassins. One might more accurately say "anti-heroes", but the truth is, Andrzej Wajda's film is a critically sympathetic account of the motives on those on all sides in the conflict. Also marking this film out as modern is the dry script and mordant humour; while a big improvement over Wajda's previous movie, 'Kanal' (which had a horrible score) is the clever use of background music as orchestration. Some things do remind you that this film is (by now) almost fifty years old: not all the acting reaches contemporary standards. Still, it's as good a movie as was made in the 1950s, and all the more telling for its relative proximity to the events it displays.

This is a movie that becomes mostly great due to its fine directing approach. The movie at times picks an artistic approach but without disconnecting itself ever from its viewers.

It's really the way how this movie looks that made this an interesting and good watch for me. It features some beautiful black & white cinematography and it has some some really strong and unforgettable images in it.

The story in itself is being kept deliberately small and simple. The movie very rarely dwells, which is a good thing but it at the same time also prevents this movie from making a truly lasting impression with a good or powerful story. In my opinion the movie was lacking this, which prevented me from truly regarding this movie as a perfect movie, or a must-see classic, even though it is generally being regarded as perhaps the best and most definitive Polish movie ever made.

Neverhteless, the characters all do work out well, due to the movie its story and overall approach. It was also truly a pleasure to watch Zbigniew Cybulski act, who is known as the Polish James Dean. He was truly great and really solely carried the movie, for most part.

Due to the fact that the movie is being kept simple and small, there is also very little to indicate in this movie that it's actually one being set during WW II. Don't know whether this was done intentionally or not but anyway, I liked that about this movie. It's a war movie without the war and everything that goes along with that and basically all that ever indicates that there is war going on is shown by the presence of a few soldiers.

A solid but above all things beautifully directed movie, by Andrzej Wajda.

8/10

http://bobafett1138.blogspot.com/

I've seen this movie only twice, stumbling across it the first time in a theater in Skopje, Yugoslavia, and I left the theater almost in shock. I'd never seen such a combination of direction, editing, cinematography, and acting. (That business about Cybulski being "the Polish James Dean" is disregardable nonsense; like saying that Chopin was the Polish John Phillip Souza.) Wajda's other films didn't seem so impressive, but "Ashes and Diamonds" was simply superb. The images linger in the mind, even now, when artiness has become commonplace. The shattered crucifix hanging upside down; the final chase through the drying laundry; and Cybulski on his side, kicking himself around in circles atop a heap of garbage! It wasn't simply thought provoking, it was shocking. I can only remember one other time I felt stunned into silence on leaving a theater, and that was in LA after the first Bergman film I saw, which happened to be "The Seventh Seal." Don't miss it.

Surely the most mature of the trilogy; it's certainly the most elliptical and stylistically audacious. At the start, Cybulski is a laidback, coldly cynical assassin who lolls on his back in a field waiting to carry out his latest hit; suffering a crisis of confidence in light of his awakening love for a woman, he flirts with desertion before resigning himself to the demands of his position. His personal journey speaks eloquently to the national trauma, and he's just the most prominent in a complex collection of transition figures, caught on the official last night of the war, now looking forward but not yet able to escape the ravages of war and the attendant moral and psychological confusion, not yet free of potential victimhood (like the mayor's assistant who on learning of his boss' promotion drinks excessively in celebration of his own presumed advancement, but in his disruptive drunkenness kills off what future he had). The ending, intercutting a personal tragedy with the dancers doing the elegant polannaise in the streaming light of dawn, like disembodied Felliniesque figures, perfectly encapsulates the film's mix of toughness and allusiveness.