Andrzej Zulawski's L'amour braque at BAM

L'amour braque is a mystifying beast of a film. Andrzej Zulawski's third French language film was made one year after La femme publique in 1985. It boldly mixes the style of an indescribable action film with philosophical musing, surrealist set pieces, and knowingly absurd dialog. All of the proceedings are inspired by the writing of Dostoyevsky as L'amour braque is an adaptation of The Idiot. Make no mistake, this is a radical work that may even confound some well versed in Zulawski's cinematic oeuvre.

The story is set in modern day Paris  and begins with a bank robbery led by gang leader Micky (Tcheky Karyo). Shenanigans ensue leading up to a meeting on a train with Hungarian immigrant Leo who is taken for an idiot by the aberrant crew surrounding Micky. Leo is played by Francis Huster, fresh off his consummate work with Zulawski in La femme publique. For some mysterious reason, Leon follows Micky around and becomes entangled in his affairs and personal life. Following the successful bank robbery Micky is determined to reconnect with his young lover Mary. Sophie Marceau acts as Mary and L'amour braque is the first of four cinematic works that Zulawski would forge with eventual second wife Marceau. When Micky arrives to retrieve Mary she is instantly drawn to Leo's unusual energy. Hence, another Zulawski love triangle emerges.

The look of L'amour braque is magnificent. The director of photography, Jean-Francois Robin also shot Jean Rollin's poetically beautiful Lips of Blood. Zulawski records unbelievably artistic renderings of criminal shootouts, objects and even a person being set aflame via the use of blowtorches. Recalling a number of other Zulawski films the swooping camera expertly moves through long hallways, spiral staircases and city streets. The overwhelming kinetic energy is depicted with neon saturated lighting showing the underbelly of Paris as a pulp hallucination. Unfortunately, Stanislaw Syrewicz's soundtrack sounds awfully dated at times though certain sections work for the images and emotions seen on the screen. Like Alain Wisniak's score for  La femme publique, it doesn't detract from the overall experience yet it doesn't greatly enhance the film either like the hugely superior Andrzej Korzynski soundtrack work for Zulawski's films.

Song writer Etienne Roda-Gil wrote the anomalous script with Zulawski. Taking in the monstrously unconventional film dialog it is no surprise to find out that Roda-Gil had a background in writing experimental songs prior to trying his hand at working on a film script. Human emotion becomes fractured into an amalgam of poetic rhythm, word play, specific cultural slang and personal reference points. The less said about the dialog the better as L'amour braque is something that needs to be experienced directly as it will surely lead to divisive responses.

As L'amour braque continues the challenging aspects of the film accumulate. Leo moves through the streets of Paris constantly searching for and re-establishing his special connection with Mary. His presence alone sparks bad situations and outcomes. The fatalistic and masochistic decisions made by Mary live out a troubling bond with her deceased mother's past.

Andrzej Zulawski directing Sophie Marceau

BAM screened a gorgeous 35mm print that was an absolute joy to see on such a large screen. The Zulawski retrospective continues to be extremely well attended and now it seems safe to say that the last 5 screenings that remain will be a great success as well.

Andrzej Zulawski's La femme publique at BAM

Andrzej Zulawski made his second French film, La femme publique in 1984 and it is the film he made after Possession. Valarie Kaprisky stars as Ethel who enters the film as a character with an untapped potential. Her intense personality is seen early on during a dance performance that is photographed for money. In this sequence Ethel transforms a standard nude photography session into something indescribable, highly personal and frighteningly authentic. All the while, intentionally horrendous 80s style electronic music blares to demonstrate a form of modern alchemy. This is another Zulawski exploration into the heart of a soul seeking an existence that defies any acceptance of a vapid world.

Ethel winds up auditioning for a role in a film version of Dostoyevsky's The Possessed. The director of this film is Lucas Kessling who is played by Francis Huster. Lucas is taken by Ethel's presence and casts her in his film. They develop an erratic relationship on and off the set of the film. A chain of events occur where Lucas becomes progressively more displeased with Ethel's acting skills. The director has inconceivable expectations for the actors in his film and Ethel is held to the highest standard of all as she is the female lead opposite Lucas who is also starring in his own film. This hall of mirrors approach connects with both Zulawski's past and future film work at the time in which La femme publique was made.

La femme publique takes an impossible to predict turn when Ethel finds herself in a wildly delirious relationship with a Czech terrorist, Milan Mliska (Lambert Wilson). Her future as an actress in The Possessed becomes in question because of Lucas' frustration with Ethel's output. She finds herself acting the part of another role in a life situation not being filmed whatsoever. She acts as lover in Milan's life and through this Ethel becomes a vastly improved actress. In the Zulawski world of creation, if something is being done it needs to be embraced fully. Ethel's transmutation comes from the drive to go all the way with what whatever she is committing herself to. This is seen at one of her follow up dance photography sessions. Ethel dances with such potent emotions that it becomes too much for the photographer to handle and he passes out. While the photographer is lying on the ground Ethel leafs through some of the photographs he has taken or her. The photographs are only of her body from the neck down. Ethel was pouring out her soul through this form of self expression for a photographer with the most base reaction imaginable.

The style of La femme publique is top-notch. Director of photography, Sacha Vierny shoots all characters and landscapes with absolute love. Zulawski's hyperactive camera movements gloriously capture an overabundance of contrasted settings and locations. Ethel is seen running through the streets, old buildings and pastoral fields while The Possessed is being made. As seen towards the end of Possession, Zulawski is entirely capable of directing exciting and engaging action scenes when he feels so inspired. These scenes are so tremendous because they are unexpected and speak to the level of Zulawski creating his own cinematic rules and tonal shifts. La femme publique has a gripping car chase sequence and anticipates more of the genre defying moments of his next film, L'amour braque.

Eventually, Ethel winds up back on the set of The Possessed. Her natural talent now mixed with a full determination to be the best she can be leads to a breakthrough performance that leaves Lucas astonished. Much has been written about the film within a film structure in La femme publique. Many have commented that Lucas is a direct extension of Zulawski. While it is tempting to draw parallel lines, Zulawski states in the Mondo Vision commentary that Lucas was not meant to be a version of himself. The story actually derives from a real life experience of co-writer Dominique Garnier who posed for nude photographs while trying to fulfill assorted artistic ambitions and dreams. La femme publique vividly demonstrates Zulawski's challenging yet sensitive touch towards female characters in his films. It also draws upon an ongoing theme in Zulawski's films, the need for self discovery and self expression in a world that has little or no use for it.

BAM screened what has turned out to be the roughest print in the Zulawski series so far. For the most part it was fine though some blurring and imperfections came about here and there. Ultimately, it was delightful to finally see this great film theatrically. 

Andrzej Zulawski's Szamanka at BAM

The fourth and fifth day of the career retrospective of Andrzej Zulawski at BAM consisted of 6 screenings of Possession. I attended the final Possession screening at BAM though have decided not to write about it as I already have at the beginning of this year in relation to the near month long run at Film Forum at the end of 2011. BAM's decision to program Szamanka to follow a 2 day run of Possession made a great deal of sense for a multitude of reasons.

Szamanka is Andrzej Zulawski's last Polish film as of now and is also the last film he made in the 20th century. It is Zulawski's 11th feature film of 12 thus far and is from 1996. It marked a near 20 year return to Polish cinema for Zulawski who shot the science fiction epic The Silver Globe in 1977 though wasn't able to complete the forever unfinished work until 10 years later due to the Polish government putting a stop on the production prior to the completion of the film. Szamanka is a powerful film brimming with an electrifying energy full of a strangeness. Like other Zulawski films the characters in the film are trying to reach some form of otherness, whether it is a conscience decision or coming from somewhere completely primal.

The story begins with a fiery pace when archeologist and anthropology professor Michal (Boguslaw Linda) meets a woman only known as "the Italian" (Iwona Petry.) Michal needs to rent out his brother's apartment and the Italian is interested in being the tenant. During the opening meeting while in the apartment, Michal initially takes advantage of the Italian sexually though at a certain point the exchange turns mutual. This foundational scene is the basis of what becomes an all encompassing addiction for both Michal and the Italian. Problems begin to arise when they want different things out of the transcendent experiences unfolding.

Shortly after Michal and the Italian's intense first encounter, Michal discovers the remains of an amazingly preserved shaman. For Michal, his increasing obsession with both the Italian and the shaman become intertwined in an all consuming way. Further, Michal begins to realize or believe that there is some profound connection to his physical interactions with the Italian and the knowledge to be gained through understanding the ways of the shaman. Essentially, Szamanka is an unorthodox love story. For Michal, he is falling in love with the long dead shaman while using the Italian for physical and emotional release, hoping to live out the profundities of the human experience. The Italian has far more of a heartfelt, instinctual physical and emotional connection to Michal. She is a nymphomaniac who only feels right with Michal. When the Italian is shown in sexual encounters with assorted others, what transpires fails to bring her much of anything outside of disappointment. Zulawski treads over territory that could so easily fall into an exploitation mode though the film never wavers from a bizarre sympathy towards both Michal and the Italian. By the end I think that it is fair to say that Zulawski shows far more tenderness to the Italian.

Szamanka has a fearless style that recalls Possession the most out of his cinematic work though I am also reminded of all of the frantic running around Valerie Kaprisky does in La femme publique and how Zulawski gives the proceedings such a magical energy in all noted films. Zulawski seems to reference the look and feel of particular scenes in Possession almost as if Szamanka is the sister film to Possession. A few scenes come to mind right away. At one point in the film, the Italian is outside of church looking at a religious statue just like when Adjani is looking up at a religious statue outside of a church in Possession. The shot is taken from high above both women and demonstrates a look of torture at the thought of a supposed God of any kind. Also, the tracking shots of the Italian running from place to place using the subway system instantly brings Possession to mind.  Zulawski is ever moving the camera in the most interesting ways and the cinematography perfectly encapsulates the special energy Iwona Petry displays in Szamanka. Remarkably, Szamanka is the first film in which Zulawski had the necessary budget to use Steadicam. It is used so effectively and brings to mind the most impressive shots and sequences seen in Possession and L'amour braque.

As the story of Szamanka progresses the shaman is found to have hallucinatory paraphernalia on his body. In turn, Michal's behavior becomes more wild and erratic as he begins taking psychedelic drugs as part of his plan to find forms of a personal spiritual truth linking him closer to the shaman. When he isn't having sex with the Italian, Michal is in the lab with his colleagues or by himself with the shaman. In a mind-boggling hallucinatory scene, the shaman imparts words of wisdom to Michal about the Italian. Michal is told that the Italian possesses shamanistic powers and is the same woman the shaman knew eons ago. The shaman warns Michal that he was destroyed by the Italian.

Iwona Petry gives a totally unhinged and touching performance as the Italian. Astonishingly, Petry had never acted before and sadly has not acted since. Zulawski saw Petry in a cafe in Warsaw while experiencing understandable difficulty casting the Italian. Something about her conflicting appearance spoke to Zulawski. One one hand, Petry undeniably exudes an enormous level of sheer beauty though seemed off in some way to Zulawski. In the great commentary track for the essential Mondo Vision release of the film, Zulawski tells the story of seeing her in the cafe and knowing he had discovered the Italian for Szamanka. Her beauty was thrown off by the way in which she was conducting herself and the nasal mucus streaming down her face at the time.

Andrzej Korzynski provides a varied score that works on every level. It juxtaposes airy string pads that have an Angelo Badalementi type sound, ritualistic drumming with vibrant electric guitars, up tempo synthesizer sequences that recall Goblin along with the almost always present carnival sounding tracks that emphasize the absurd and hilarious moments. Again, in Zulawski's Mondo Vision commentary on the DVD he tells Daniel Bird that originally the airy string pads were going to serve as the sonic backdrop for the sex scenes between Michal and the Italian while the scenes between Michal and the shaman would have the ritualistic drumming and guitar tracks. Zulawski made a crucial change to the proceedings which further emphasize the shifting focus of the story. By assigning the romantic string pads to the scenes with Michal and the shaman, the viewer further understands the romance from beyond the grave that is forming. Michal is falling in love with the shaman, not the Italian. The machine like drumming that accompanies the sexual exchanges between Michal and the Italian serve the raw force of the union they share. Of course, it is never that straightforward in a Zulawski film as the Italian has other feelings and things in mind for Michal when she realizes the exact nature of his behavior towards her. To add yet another layer, there is an apocalyptic subplot. The potential nuclear apocalypse is never spelled out as it isn't in Possession either.

The central question Szamanka poses and fortunately never attempts to answer is does the Italian possess transcendent powers or is she merely an imbecile? Zulawski has spoken of his cinema as a cinema of masks with the sole exception of Szamanka where the masks are removed for the entirety of the film. Petry gives an amazing performance because she is able to formulate through facial expressions, spastic movement and an eclipsing sexual energy the vast distinction between these two states of being while blurring the lines. There are a number of scenes where this blurred line has the viewer at a loss as to which side the Italian is on without actually knowing because the performance is full of such an acute awareness of the lines being drawn and obscured. It is an absolute shame that Szamanka was so poorly received in Poland and subject to public outcry in a way that brings to mind David Cronenberg's Crash. Interestingly enough, Crash was made in 1996 along with Szamanka and was also a highly controversial and misunderstood film that explores unusual and unabashed sexual ground.

My history with watching this film over the last 10 plus years at different points is strange. The first time I saw Szamanka,  it was a wretched looking bootleg copy that I remember being so incredibly excited to see despite the beyond horrible transfer and lack of subtitles. Shortly after, Canal + and Premier Digital released a Russian DVD in 2002. The transfer was passable and there were subtitles, albeit done in a poor way with jerky dialog translations. In 2010, Mondo Vision came to the rescue releasing the film with a wonderful transfer, loaded with text/video supplemental features and the Limited Edition contains the entire Korzynski soundtrack.

I've seen Szamanka around 10 times by now and the film resonated with me the most it ever has last night at BAM. I'm not quite sure if it was because it was the first time I saw a print of the film projected in a theater or due to the retrospective getting me to further think about and view Zulawski's films one after the other. Even though Zulawski has been one of my all time favorite directors for years, I would always space out the duration of passing time when watching his films because they are so intense and demand so much of the viewer. That being said, I am enormously grateful to now be in the position of watching Zulawski's entire canon over the course of a few weeks. The BAM screening was nearly sold out and it appears to have gone over well with the majority of audience members. I still can't believe that Zulawski's work is finally being celebrated in the US after years and years of thinking it would remain outside of the periphery of cinema culture in English speaking parts of the world.

Andrzej Zulawski's short films Pavoncello, The Song of Triumphant Love and Zulawski's first French feature film That Most Important Thing: Love at BAM

Pavoncello

The third night of Andrzej Zulawski's complete retrospective at BAM was incredibly exciting. For the first time in the US, Zulawski's short films for Polish television screened in color as they were shot and originally intended to be seen with new 35mm prints. Leading up to this series, out of the entire Zulawski filmography, the only works of his I had not viewed were the shorts and the Russian opera, Boris Godounov, which will screen on Monday, March 19.

Pavoncello is Zulawski's first short film and is from 1967.  This film emerged after a period of time Zulawski spent working under Andrzej Wadja. The story of Pavoncello stems from the writing work of Stefan Zerowski, who also collaborated with Wadja and Walerian Borowczyk. Zulawski's short film for television is an intriguing piece, even more so when thinking about Zulawski's feature films to follow. Pavoncello revolves around a young violinist who becomes engulfed in a tricky situation with a young beautiful woman and her elderly husband. Immediately, Zulawski's pure talent as a director with a knack for capturing alluring images and strong performances is on display. The film is romantic and has doses of comedic moments. Lines can be drawn to aspects of That Most Important Thing: Love as well as Fidelity. 

The Song of Triumphant Love

The Song of Triumphant Love was made two years after Pavoncello and two years before Zulawski's debut feature, The Third Part of the Night. It delves straight into the battle aspect of triangular love, a theme that resurfaces again and again with subtle variations throughout Zulawski's cinematic work. Two men do all they can to stay connected or reconnect with the woman they both desire. The Song of Triumphant Love has a highly evocative and trance like quality unto itself though this feeling intensifies with a strong familiarity with Zulawski's films to come. Glimmers of Jacques Dutronc in That Most Important Thing: Love, Sam Neill and Heinz Bennent in Possession can be seen in this atmospheric film.

It would be most appreciated if Mondo Vision include these shorts as bonus features in an upcoming release.

That Most Important Thing: Love (l'important c'est d'aimer) is Andrzej Zulawski's third feature film and is his first French language film. It was made in 1975 and follows 1972's The Devil, which was banned outright in Poland. This is an emotionally devastating work of art that contains both Romy Schneider and Klaus Kinski at the peak of their crafts. For me, all of the elements swim beautifully together in this film. The direction, the performances, and the music all ring out as exceptional and utterly sincere.

As for feature films, this is Zulawski's first work that deals with a love triangle of sorts, unless one counts the possibly hallucinatory love triangle in The Third Part of the Night. Euro Crime and Spaghetti Western mainstay Fabio Testi plays Servais, a photographer who winds up on the set of what looks to be an utterly horrible and degrading exploitation film starring Romy Schneider's character Nadine. The over the top director seen is yelling at Schneider, repeatedly screaming wildly to say "I love you," to a bruised and bleeding man lying on the ground. Servais takes pictures of Nadine without permission from the set before invoking the ire of the director who demands he be ejected without his film. An explosive fight erupts between some crew members and Servais. The pictures taken capture a woman broken and lost in a repugnant world that surrounds her. This is the start of another circular Zulawski film.

Soon after Servais shows up where Nadine and her cinephile husband Jacques live. Jacques is played amazingly well by singer Jacques Dutronc. Servais explains to Nadine that he wants to take more pictures of her. There is an instant connection between these two characters that transcends words. It becomes apparent that Nadine is striving for more important work as an actress. She is naturally aging and that is weighing on her as far as a finite timeline of external beauty and acting is concerned. Servais empathizes with Nadine as the two are unmoored in a cesspool of nothingness. He is a freelance photographer for a twisted and exploitative man named Mazelli (Claude Dauphin), who strong-arms Servais to take pictures of increasingly perverse scenarios. Servais secretly funds an avant-garde stage production of Richard III with the sole purpose of getting Nadine quality theater work. In order to get the needed money to give to the theater director, Servais begrudgingly asks Mazelli for a loan. Mazelli warns Servais that more will be asked of him and to swallow his pride.

In the theater production Klaus Kinski plays an actor, Karl-Heinz Zimmer. There are touching scenes between Kinski and Schneider about the nature of acting and how frequently it becomes disappointing and or tiresome. In these scenes, one can't help but think there is a direct link to these lines and some of the work both actors did in their uneven careers, especially Kinski, who notoriously worked on countless sub-par films for financial reasons only. When Karl-Heinz isn't giving Nadine physical and emotional support, he is shown in isolated anguish or absurd outbursts amongst others. The director of the theatrical play is immensely bizarre as a gaggle of background characters in That Most Important Thing: Love and other Zulawski films often are. The theater world is depicted as an equally outrageous spectacle as the pathetic thugs that follow Mazelli and his wife around.

The phenomenal Georges Delerue provides an overwhelmingly beautiful and sorrowful score. A massive part of the emotional impact of the film is due to the highly expressive string work. Zulawski has stated that he told Delerue to make something in the vein of his score for Jean-Luc Godard's Contempt. Zulawski has been forthcoming over time of his admiration for Godard's Contempt and it comes through while adding so much to the basic premise.  I love Godard's Contempt along with the Delerue soundtrack, yet That Most Important Thing: Love gets under my skin more each and every time I see it. Zulawski has a great ear and sense of rhythm when it comes to maximizing sonic source material and repeating musical cues in relation to cutting as needed for the scene and film as a whole. The repeating string motif is the heart of the film along with Romy Schneider's unbelievable facial expressions. Her brave work in That Most Important Thing: Love can't be emphasized enough. Next to Bertrand Tavernier's marvelous and timely film which would follow, la mort en direct (Death Watch), Schneider was never better.

The love triangle among Servais, Nadine, and Jacques develops early and provides the film's momentum. The instant unspoken love between Servais and Nadine is a force that is glaringly obvious to Jacques and drives him to the depths of despair. The photographer captures images. The actress performs the captured images. The collector hoards images of a bygone era. Servais and Nadine live, while Jacques is nostalgic and numb. He rummages through black and white stills of Hollywood actors by himself and with other obsessive cinephile fans. The rooms of the borrowed house in which Nadine and Jacques live are littered with film posters and film stills. These collected images and films seem to be the only things in Jacques' life. Even though Servais and Nadine find themselves in a world of shit, at least they are striving for something. Jacques is a passive character who contributes nothing and remains powerless because he is aware that he lacks the will to create. His snippy remarks to and about Nadine betray his sterile and ultimately shallow worldview. There is a certain type of struggle that Servais and Nadine individually and collectively share. It is part of an ongoing theme in Zulawski's film world. This type of struggle re-appears in La femme publique with Valerie Kaprisky's lead character. This struggle may be described as madly desiring to penetrate an outside world that is lackluster, banal and/or grotesque with a projection of one's internal strength and beauty. Transcendence may or may not occur though it is absolutely necessary to try in an honest way to cross the threshold.

Andrzej Zulawski directing Romy Schneider

It was rather amazing to behold a sold out crowd for this night of films. That Most Important Thing: Love is a film I've seen many times though I had only seen it once in a theater prior to the BAM screening. Like the BAM screening, the Mondo Vision digital transfer was once screened in November of 2010 at the French Institute in Manhattan as part of a Jacques Dutronc retrospective. That was a relatively well attended event though not even close in comparison.

Andrzej Zulawski's La note bleue (Blue Note) at BAM

La note bleue (Blue Note) is Andrzej Zulawski's tenth feature film and was made 20 years after his debut, The Third Part of the Night. It is Zulawski's sixth French film out of seven in total. On an abstract level, La note bleue shares some loose similarities with The Third Part of the Night. Both films deal with the end of a particular life and are filled with phantasmagoria. However, the overall tone and content of La note bleue are quite different in strongly pronounced ways.

La note bleu is about the final hours of composer Fryderyk Chopin's artistic life, the last few sparks of creative expression. First time actor and famed pianist Janusz Olejniczak gloriously captures the exact balance among intensity, lightness, and sadness to establish the emotional triangle of Zulawski's atypical film. Chopin is living in France as a Polish expatriate, which mirrors Zulawski's transnational life when the film was made. At the end of Chopin's life his relationship with lover George Sand (played by Marie France-Pisier) has withered away. An unusual relationship is forming between Chopin and Sand's daughter, Solange, who is beautifully played by Zulawski's then wife Sophie Marceau. There is a cast of unusual artistic characters floating around this film, friends of Chopin's who are beside him during his last hours as a music composer.

Zulawski's nuanced drifting cinematic style is distinguishable in La note bleue, yet is intentionally restrained. The camera work glides through space in a hypnotic manner with an uncommon lightness that hovers over the proceedings. Zulawski's camera takes on a much slower rhythm, a conscious decision that pays off in spades. These stylistic choices complement the narrative plot and its playful spirit. La note bleue is beautiful to behold, displaying a lyrical quality that looks straight into the eye of a great abyss while laughing along the way.

At the crux of La note bleue is the art one has made in this life and the life that is now trickling away. Chopin, aged only 36, is seen in a French mansion crafting his final composition during the final 36 hours of his artistic life. Chopin went on to live another three years after the storyline in La note bleue concludes, yet he never wrote another composition. During the film, Chopin is extremely ill, suffering fits of coughing up blood. Beyond that, mass hallucinations drench the landscape of the film. Ghost-like creatures, phantoms and wisps are in the background of the film. The presence of these phantasmagorical beings grows as the film continues. Harmonizing with the lighter aspects of La note bleue, the strange dreamy characters in the background are not menacing; rather, they frolic about the fields and within the mansion. Chopin's actual friends also surround him. They discuss art, prepare meals, and provide Chopin with loyal support. The film is full of comical and absurd moments.

Piano music perpetually plays in La note bleue. If Chopin is not seen or heard playing the piano during the film, airy piano scores take over the sonic background of scenes. Zulawski's sound design works in an engaging and powerful way. It sustains the tone and focus while the ever present piano intensifies the dreamlike qualities that La note bleue possesses.

La note bleue is a film that meanders. There is no anxiety to piece together a concise plot with precise segments. Instead, the viewer is left with a succession of scenes that play out in a much more realistic fashion. Even though there are fantastic elements in La note bleue, Zulawski magically captures the essence of a personal and collective life experience seen as gossamer threads. There is a sadness in the film that is unmistakable and difficult to pin down with lucidity. This quality pierces the film during the scenes that display how broken Chopin's relationship has become with Sand. Even though their relationship is a pale and dead version of what once was, she is still able to guide him towards the blue note. Like other Zulawski films such as That Most Important Thing: Love, the sorrowful feelings represented by protagonists go far beyond words. I think the ability to bring us to a sphere of wordlessness is one of Zulawski's greatest skills as a director. The scenes between Chopin and Sand, Chopin and Solange most illuminate this tension. Considering that La note bleue is a film about a composer, Zulawski wonderfully merges the worlds of music and life itself. There are no words left yet the blue note exists.

I saw La note bleue once before as part of a series titled, Romance in Light:Fryderyk Chopin and the Cinema. It screened at Lincoln Center on May 8, 2010. The print BAM played as part of the Zulawski career retrospective appeared to be the same one that screened at Lincoln Center a couple years back. The main difference this time around was the number of people in the theater. Back in 2010 I was saddened by the total lack of turnout for the incredibly rare opportunity for people to see a 35mm print of a Zulawski film theatrically. This time far more individuals turned up in Brooklyn for a nearly-full screening.

The true reason behind Andrej Zulawski's absence on the first night of his retrospective and The Third Part of the Night at BAM

Margaret Barton-Fumo has put together the most illuminating Andrzej Zulawski interview since the US press finally started writing about his work in a major way of any kind beyond Possession. In the Film Comment interview a wide range of interesting aspects of Zulawski's work are discussed with brutal honesty by Zulawski marked by subtle observations and parallels made by Barton-Fumo. Most directly connected to the first ever complete Zulawski US retrospective that is now underway is the topic of Zulawski not attending BAM for the opening night screening and the reasons behind that decision. Initially, it was reported that Zulawski would not attend due to health reasons. That in fact turns out not to be the case at all:

____________________
Margaret Barton-Fumo: I’m curious to hear what you think of this retrospective of your films that’s going to be here in New York at the Brooklyn Academy of Music. The title of the retrospective, it’s very catchy, but it’s called “Hysterical Excess”—
Andrzej Zulawski: Do you want me to tell you the truth?

Barton-Fumo: Yes.
Zulawski: This is the exact reason I am here in Warsaw and not in New York. I hated it so profoundly, it sounded so base—and I thank you for asking. On the other hand, I understand that these nice good people want to have something catchy. But I’m totally, totally aghast. I’m against this, and this is the reason I never came.

Barton-Fumo: Thank you for your honesty.
Zulawski: [Laughs] My only vice is honesty.

Barton-Fumo: I wanted to ask about it, because one can trace the thinking behind the title. You can see how someone might look at your films and come up with that title, but if you pick it apart, “hysteria” is a word that is commonly associated with Freud and his misinterpretation—
Zulawski: —with women—

Barton-Fumo: Exactly. And “excess” is a word that might be reductive as a summary of your work.
Zulawski: Thank you. I’m glad you think so. Look, I’m so easily bored with cinema. It’s not because I don’t appreciate the effort, the acting, the script writing, or whatever. But most of it is so predictable, after five minutes I know exactly the pattern, the flow, how it will turn out. That’s perfectly all right, why not? But what these people call hysteria is, I guess, a will to provoke a certain kind of awareness, nervousness, open-eyed-ness, I don’t know what to call it. And actors who will reflect a hope on the audience. They won’t be bored. But this clinical term “hysteria” is very hurtful to me. 
____________________ 


It is most unfortunate, though wholly understandable, that Zulawski's feelings are hurt by this marketing choice. As I stated in my last post (prior to the published Film Comment interview), Zulawski does have a long history with the word 'hysterical' being constantly applied in English speaking commentary with respect to his work. Zulawski has clearly never been pleased with that connotation or interpretation, and he most definitely does not agree with 'hysterical' labeling the overarching theme found within his work. The whole interview can be read here and serves as a great partial window into Zulawski's mind and art:

http://www.filmlinc.com/blog/entry/film-comment-interview-andrzej-zulawski

The Third Part of the Night is Zulawski's hallucinatory, apocalyptic, and masterful debut feature film. It is one of the rare debut films in the history of cinema that serves as a distillation of a director's core components. Zulawski's ongoing fascination with the human experience, his signature stylistic form, and a penetrating gaze into a range of emotions are explored minutely from the beginning until the end of this circular film. Zulawski effortlessly taps into a fragmented nightmare world that is all the more frightening given that the surrealistic story that unfolds is based on actual events through which Zulawski's father lived during the Nazi occupation of Poland. Zulawski wrote the screenplay with his father, Miroslaw Zulawski, who was a noted poet.

This fever dream of a film can arguably be broken down into the images seen by one man, lost inside of his mind during his final moments of life. Passages from the Book of Revelation are read aloud by actress Malgorzata Braunek, Zulawski's first wife and mother of their now film-maker son, Xawery Zulawski. Braunek plays the wife Helena while Leszek Telszynski plays the husband Michal. German soldiers furiously and suddenly appear after a series of nature shots play out over the opening titles. The electric rhythm of the film is immediately established. Helena and their young child are violently killed. This opening scene haunts the rest of the film as Michal's sense of reality becomes progressively more distorted and dreamlike. It is a war story unlike any other.

Michal flees the murder scene only to encounter a pregnant woman who bears an unmistakable resemblance to his now deceased wife. An uncanny relationship develops with this woman. Meanwhile, Michal reports to a medical center where strange lice-feeding experiments for vaccination occur. Taking part in the lice-feeding experiments helps Michal to escape death from the ongoing war. Zulawski brilliantly finds ways to disorient the viewer in an ever-increasingly delirious manner. Hallucinations are interwoven into the heart of the story, and it becomes apparent that the visions Michal experiences are integral to his juxtaposed 'reality.' If all of this sounds like a political horror film, it most certainly is. Since this is a Zulawski film, it is many other things as well.

Zulawski directs The Third Part of the Night with a brazen level of confidence for a first time director. It is both visually and narratively audacious as an oblique form of cinematic storytelling. Rules are set aflame. This arresting film conjures both hideousness and beauty. The sustained tone is increasingly bleak and surreal.  Countless astonishing images and sequences fill the screen. Andrzej Korzynski's awesome score further expands upon the sense of dread and strangeness. Like Zulawski's directorial mastery on display, Korzynski also demonstrates his brilliance as a composer and provides the archetype for what would become a longstanding collaboration between the two men. Korzynski's trademark styling and juxtapositions are rendered in ways that serve and enhance the visuals. Effected woodwinds are isolated, tense orchestras sound, a droning fuzz guitar reappears and eventually freaks out all together over the end credits. The Third Part of the Night recalls Dario Argento in his finest form as a film-maker who is able to show stories unfold in ways that had never been seen before. The most striking difference between the two directors is that Zulawski, unlike Argento, is dynamic in both storytelling and triggering deeply emotive performances that resonate long after the light dims out of the projector.

The Third Part of the Night is even more fascinating when surveying Zulawski's filmography. For instance, the staircase scene and the use of doppelgangers both reform ten years later in Possession. These self-referential echoes become more intriguing considering Possession is a film that documents a private drama that was directly inspired by the deterioration of Zulawski's marriage and family with the star of The Third Part of the Night, Malgorzata Braunek.

Seeing The Third Part of the Night theatrically at BAM was an ecstatic experience. Having only viewed the film on DVD in the past, Zulawski's coruscating camera work and unique gifts as a visual storyteller glimmered in the incredible new print.

Astounded by a flood of upcoming Andrzej Zulawksi film screenings in Brooklyn, Zulawski's sustained take on hysteria along with recent Zulawski DVD and soundtrack announcements

On January 2, 2012 I wrote the following:


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I hope that what appears to have been a successful and long overdue theatrical run of Possession turns into a much needed career retrospective for Andrzej Zulawski at some film center in the New York City area. For years now, I've felt that Zulawski is the most criminally unknown or undervalued living master director, especially in the United States. His body of work is stunning and comes from such a personal place.

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Dreams actually surface occasionally in life. Proof of this exists in the form of the first ever US complete Andrzej Zulawski retrospective taking place at BAM. The unbelievable series begins this Wednesday, March 7th and runs until Tuesday, March 20th. All Zulawski films but one will screen in 35mm, there will be 4 new prints projected and all live subtitles which will take place for assorted films are director approved. Initially, Zulawski was scheduled to attend the opening night which consists of his amazing debut feature, The Third Part of the Night but unfortunately an unforeseen health issue will prevent him from traveling to the states. This retrospective is an extremely important film event as it is bound to shed much needed light on Zulawski's astonishing filmography. BAM is to be commended for this brilliant and daring stroke of essential film programming. Here is the complete schedule for Hysterical Excess: Discovering Andrzej Zulawski:

http://www.bam.org/view.aspx?pid=4072

My immense excitement for the series was followed by the immediate thought that Zulawski would dislike or even hate the title of the series. I thought back to a moving and insightful Q & A that Stephen Thrower and Daniel Bird conducted with Zulawski back in 1998 for Thrower's Eyeball magazine. Here is an excerpt pertaining to the word hysteria...

Stephen Thrower: One thing that is interesting, and disappointing, about the responses to your films in the English-speaking world is that you've been 'accused' of...hysteria...

Andrez Zulawski: (simultaneously) ...hysteria, I love this word (laughs). I know it by heart now, absolutely.

Stephen Thrower: It's not a criticism I'd make, but how do you respond to this... 'judgement'?

Andrez Zulawski: I don't exactly know. They amalgamate together this super-activity, this energy, this shrieking quality. You have to know how to do it. Whisper, everybody can... go and shriek. It's much more difficult, if you're civilized! (laughs). They put this one word on it, call it hysteria, and I think by default it shows what's lacking in them. I mean they should shriek some times, they should yell, or run or do something.

FABPress released the indispensable Eyeball Compendium back in 2003. It is a fantastic book that compiles assorted articles on strange and fascinating art, horror and exploitation films. The book contains a number of magnificent writings by both Stephen Thrower and Daniel Bird on the films of Andrzej Zulawski:

http://fabpress.com/vsearch.php?CO=FAB047

Sure enough, J. Hoberman spoke with Zulawski on the phone recently for his piece on the series for The New York Times and Zulawski had this to say about hysteria...

" 'Hysterical' is a word I abhor," Mr. Zulawski said when reached by telephone in Warsaw.

The whole New York Times article is here:

http://www.nytimes.com/2012/03/04/movies/hysterical-excess-andrzej-zulawski-films-at-bamcinematek.html?_r=2&smid=tw-nytimesmovies&seid=auto

Further, Mondo Vision has just officially announced that the label plans on releasing The Silver Globe, The Blue Note and Possession in 2012. As of now, Mondo Vision is looking to release The Devil, The Third Part of the Night and Boris Godunov in 2013. This is the bare bones future releases page on the Mondo Vision site:

http://mondo-vision.com/futurereleases.php

Out of nowhere, the great Finders Keepers record label has just released the amazing Possession soundtrack by Andrzej Korzynski. Incredibly, this soundtrack has never been released until now. Other formats of the soundtrack are most likely to appear along with more Korzynski soundtrack music for Zulawski films:


http://www.b-music.us/discog_fkrmc003.html