Dekalog, siedem

The filial love pushed to the extreme is the main point of one of the most despairing episodes of the whole series. Painted in soft tones of a warm color photography "Dekalog 7", a sorrowful appeal against the theft of maternal affections, a touching scream of desperation against every form of domestic psychological abuse, describes the emotional journey of lonely souls towards a past immersed in voids of time and memory, thwarted by walls of self-referential egoism and full of wrong choices due to scarce sense of consciousness.

Lawful and unlawful mothers deprived of filial affection. Human beings wandering through the fury of winds of despair whose smell they can scent over and over again. An innocent child at the mercy of acts of adult selfishness destined to affect the course of human events. These are the main points of this collective drama of existence full of regression periods in infancy, clear admonishment in favor of a quiet and sensible mother-daughter relationship.

The director follows the story development most closely, avoiding to keep the events at a distance as if they were no concern of him, showing on the contrary a clear sensitiveness towards this anomalous drama of two mothers fighting over the possession of the same daughter driven passively from pillar to post. The seventh commandment, "Thou shalt not steal", must be intended in this case as the explication of a dangerous crime: the theft of a child both by her grandmother and by her real mother; the most blamable one depends on our points of view. In my opinion, for instance, to claim the right of someone else's maternity is the most reprehensible action because it does violence to the nature itself, bereaving the human being of his most precious treasure, fruit of a mutual choice of love. As usual, Kieslovski shows his complete respect of the par condicio: he finds both the fictitious mother and the real one guilty: the first one for having taken possession of someone else's motherhood; the second one for having stolen her real child. According to divine law (and to him) a theft is always a theft, and in this tormented quarrel between grown-up persons heedless of the potential damages suffered by a delicate childish psyche, will the ingenuous spontaneity of a child succeed in breaking the wall of incomprehension and hostility between kinsmen?

Episode 7 of 'Dekalog' is substantially less intense than most of those that preceded it, and seems rather less complex, as well. Young Majka (Maja Barelkowska) has surrendered her daughter Ania, the product of a teenager pregnancy, to the care of her mother, Ewa (Anna Polony). Here, Kieslowski condemns the sins of both parties: Ewa for taking possession of Ania as a substitute daughter (following her own inability to conceive a second child), and Majka for "stealing" back the child, despite being an inexperienced and arguably unfit mother. There's a bit of Tarkovskian flair in the cinematography by Dariusz Kuc. In one scene, Majka and Ania pause at the riverside beneath a bridge, and watch the current swirl debris downstream. It's such a lonely moment, incredibly peaceful and yet hauntingly so.

The film can be evaluated at several levels. It offers several layers of meaning, teasing the viewer as it progresses.

Kidnapping your own daughter from the ownership of your mother is a bizarre situation. Two women want to own a young child--the biological mother and the grandmother who yearned to "suckle" another. Interestingly the script looks at three generations of the same sex. The males seem to be the outsiders, yet balanced in comparison to the females in the movie.

"Thou shall not steal" is the commandment that is apparently broken. The film leads you to believe that the mother has "kidnapped" her own child. The film seems to argue quite elegantly that the real thief is the grandparent not the "kidnapping" mother. The "kidnapping" is symbolic--the police is mentioned not seen. The law presented in the film is moral one, not a civil one. In the end, it is the natural affection the child yearns for that is stolen, not by an individual but by circumstances (the state?).

Is this a veiled criticism of Poland, the effect of communism on the young emerging democracy? What would have happened if the "stealing" within and without the movie did not take place? The film begins with the sound of the child crying that can be heard outside the walls of the house; the film ends with the silent cry of the child in the open, without walls and yet the cry cannot be heard, only seen (harking back to Rod Steiger's silent cry at the end of "The Pawnbroker"). Is fleeing to Canada (read: Western capitalism) a better option than staying back in the overgrown, ummowed gardens (with dilapidated merry-go-rounds) of Poland? Is making teddy bears a better life than taking care of your child? Is he making an argument for "stealing" becoming honorable for the cause of freedom? The film leaves you with more questions than answers, yet providing a mature level of entertainment for the intelligent viewer.

I had the good fortune to have met Kieslowski in 1982 after he made "Camera Buff" in Bangalore, India, a film that did not have the sparkle and maturity of his later works. Little did I imagine that he would go on to make the "Three colors" trilogy and "Decalogue". These later works make you wonder at the ambiguity of his later work--the beguiling smile of a Mona Lisa as he deals with religion, politics, morals with a twinkle in his eye.

This episode may be seem to present an unusual story but what a masterful way to present it. Innocence is limited to one character in the entire film: the child. Just one word describes the episode, brilliant in philosophy and in cinema, thanks partly to cinematographer Dariusz Kuc.

Theologically analyzed, the film offers more for reflection. The subject of stealing goods is arguably covered by the 10th commandment "thou shalt not covet thy neighbours goods" and the seventh commandment is often subtly interepreted as "thou shalt not kidnap" (read Wikepedia on "Ten Commandments" quoting a Jewish Rabbi, Rashi). This is probably the reason why the film is all about kidnapping and not about stealing goods which is dealt by the director and screenplay writer in Decalogue 10--which is all about stealing goods and about "coveting thy neighbor's goods"--confusing many critics who missed the distinction being made on screen. This is a fine example of cinema that invites you to read more after seeing the film (and revise your own judgement). Pieseiewicz and Kiesolwski had done their homework!

'Dekalog' is a towering achievement and a televisual masterpiece that puts many feature films to shame, also pulling off a concept of great ambition brilliantly. Although a big admirer of Krzysztof Kieślowski (a gifted director taken from us too early), and who has yet to be disappointed by him, to me 'Dekalog' and 'Three Colours: Red' sees him at his best.

All of 'Dekalog's' episodes have so many great things, and it is an example of none of the lesser episodes being bad. This is testament to the high quality of 'Dekalog' as an overall whole and how brilliant the best episodes are. Episode 7 may not be as good as Episodes 1, 4, 5 and 6, being not quite as eventful or quite as rich thematically, but is still terrific stuff.

Every single one of 'Dekalog's' episodes are exceptionally well made. The production values in Episode 7 are as ever atmosphere-enhancing, beautiful and haunting to look at and fascinating. Many of the images are impossible to forget and enhance the poignant atmosphere. The direction is quietly unobtrusive, intelligently paced and never too heavy, and the music is suitably intricate.

The themes and ideals are used to full potential, and the characters and their relationships and conflicts feel so real and emotionally resonant without being heavy-handed. Despite being based around one of the ten commandments, don't let that put you off, resemblance to religion is relatively scant.

It is not as rich in story as a few of the previous episodes, but the atmosphere is both harrowing and heart-rending, Episode 7 definitely being one of the most poignant 'Dekalog' episodes. The character development and interactions really fascinate and compelling in their realism. The acting is superb as to be expected, with complexity and nuances by the bucket-load.

Concluding this review, not one of the best 'Dekalog' episodes but still terrific. 9/10 Bethany Cox

The template for Dekalog is that we enter a life with its anxieties (a dying husband on a hospital bed, a husband who disappeared on Christmas Eve) and at some point the narrative surface gives way and reveals a more fluid, more interdepentent life of suffering beneath.

This is evident here in a child sister abducted (after a theatric performance no less, after the swirl of fiction) and by next morning she has become a daughter. We explore a bit more but it never amounts to more than drama about the choices we have to make.

The Kieslowski I like, as I am discovering with these Dekalog viewings, is that way he has of visually slipping ahead and back. This is on the more typical end of the spectrum, all about moral anxiety and doublebinds. The ending is both emotional and convenient, poured on as syrup instead of laid out as vision.