Trzy kolory: Bialy (Three Colors: White) (Zbigniew Zamachowski, Julie Delpy)
There is a wonderful moment in Krzysztof Kieslowski's film White that pretty much sums up its captivating tone. A man named Mikolaj (Janusz Gajos) approaches an airport baggage claim department after having just landed into his native Poland. The woman at the counter asks him if it's the same luggage that weighed 165 pounds on check-in. He pauses for a moment and, knowing precisely what is inside the suitcase, we can understand his cause for hesitation. His answer is very telling, because it is the truth. It's also indubitably hilarious.
The more I think about this film, the more I recognize that writer/director Kieslowski's characters are fueled not by a need to abide by (or embody) the truth, but to adjust their lives to the truths of their situations. Take Karol Karol for example. The truth of his present situation is that he is unemployed because his ex-wife Dominique has burned his store down. It's no secret that she is upset with him because he had always been unable to perform in bed. How will the comically down-on-his-luck Karol (which, incidentally, is Polish for Charlie) adjust his life to the truth of this situation? What changes will he make? What will Dominique do to appease her unsatisfied needs?
The Three Colors series is easily one of my favourite trilogies. Preceded by Blue with Juliette Binoche and proceeded by Red with Irčne Jacob and Jean-Louis Trintignant, the movies all work well individually, but are infinitely more rewarding when watched in succession. Symbolically representing the three colours of the French flag, the theme to each is liberty (Blue), equality (White), and fraternity (Red) and how these concepts relate to French society and indeed to the global community. Although not always easy to see in each scene, White's theme of equality is nevertheless prevalent, both in Karol's elaborately clever plan to win back Dominique, and in Kieslowski's commentary on Europe's unemployment situation, the values which the economy upholds and supports, and some satirical takes on the temperamental nature of power structures.
White offers an outstanding performance by Zbigniew Zamachowski as Karol. He is a three-dimensional clown with thoughts and feelings that aren't always expressed, but are always intimated through his unexpected actions. In hindsight, he has very few lines, which is another Chaplain-esque correlation. As Dominique, Julie Delpy is missing from the middle section of White, but is never far from the viewer's mind because of her frank honesty in earlier scenes. Jerzy Stuhr plays Karol's brother with an infectious mix of affection and seniority. Many of the other characters do not have proper names; I would imagine this is in order for the viewer to associate with them as personality types, classes, and professions, rather than as individuals.
The film expertly uses its cinematography by making certain key objects white -- Dominique's car, a statue profile, a wedding dress in a flashback -- but the most impressive use of the colour comes from the French and Polish backdrops in the winter. There is a certain balance to this splendour, inspiring and provoking a unique kind of... equality.
