The Pianist, on the destruction of identity and the passion that sustains it.
a film review
One year ago today, I watched The Pianist and was captivated by its brilliance as a work of art. I had so many thoughts, I wrote three pages of unrefined analysis in my journal the day after. It was the first time I’d felt such a strong urge to write after watching anything. But that wasn’t enough. I wanted to write a polished piece to explain the genius of what I’d just consumed. I finished most of it six months ago but hadn’t an appropriate place to share it. In the intervening months, I began watching more films, reading books again and writing more. So, I started an Instagram page a few months ago and this blog a month ago. But I felt that this piece couldn’t be my first post. While it was the true trailblazer for my writing, it didn’t suit being one for my audience. This review has been sitting on my laptop unread by anyone but myself and a few friends for a while now. As June approached, I thought what better time to post it than one year after I first became mesmerised by the film that inspired it?
I hope you enjoy.
Based on a true story, The Pianist is a war drama about a single man’s journey in Nazi-occupied Poland. The film is harrowing yet delicate and unpredictable. It begins just after the German invasion of Poland, travels through the creation and destruction of the Jewish ghetto in Warsaw and concludes at the reclamation of the war-torn capital. We follow the story loosely at first, then painstakingly clearly through the eyes of Władysław Szpilman (Adrien Brody), a famous Jewish pianist.
What struck me most about The Pianist was the crude authenticity of Szpilman’s character. Yes, he is a world-class pianist, but he is scared, selfish, and vulnerable as any of us are, especially during trying times. At the film’s opening, Szpilman is a young, well-mannered gentleman with a dry sarcastic humour. He performs for a Polish radio station. He’s decently well off. And when hard times come, he does his best to help his family get by. But Brody really brings his character to life in the second half of the film when Szpilman enters hiding. At this stage there is no more piano or company, only solitude and starvation. The film dances between civility and primal instinct as Szpilman’s respectable life morphs into that of a wild scavenger limping through the ruins of Warsaw in search for food. He is resourceful, intelligent, and remorseful in his self-preservation but also indolent and cowardly – after all, cowardice is what often saves us from death. But don’t get too anxious because the film’s overall message looks favourably on the human spirit. It concludes where it began with Szpilman playing piano for the Polish radio, and tells us that art, civility, passion and creativity can resurface even in the wake of death, despair and the destruction of one’s dignity.
There are so many powerful scenes in this film. Powerful because of the way they subtly steer our attention. Director Roman Polanski marries dialogue with music and framing masterfully, keeping our minds wary and alert throughout. At every moment, Szpilman’s survival is called into question, and we are constantly on the edge of our seats. In my favourite scene of the film, Szpilman has just been moved into his second hiding flat. There is a shot of him carefully looking out the window of his new prison-like home. The camera pans to a dusted piano sitting immediately behind him. Words are spoken: "no one knows you’re here so keep as quiet as possible". Szpilman walks away from the window to open the piano lid and sit at the piano stool. Is he going to play it? Next thing we know, Chopin’s Grande Polonaise Brillante Op. 22 is heard and Szpilman's eyes are closed, immersed in the music. Has he given in? A second shot of his hands show that he's miming on top of the piano keys with the music we hear being from his imagination. For me, this sequence captures Szpilman’s restraint and rationality; the pain of suppressing his artform. It’s a disquieting image of solitude and Polanski takes his audience right through the experience. He plants fear into our minds, but then shows us that it hasn’t been realised. He lets us breathe a sigh of relief but then begs us to ask the question, at what cost? It may very well be that Szpilman’s passion for music, which manifested itself not merely as a form of external self-expression but also as a calming presence within, made him hopeful and helped him endure. But did refraining from using his most prized form of expression risk destroying a part of himself and his dignity?
Overall, The Pianist paints a realistic and holistic picture of its historical time period. There are many powerful and heartbreaking scenes of the brutal and dehumanising Nazi regime. We see Jewish communities turned against each other, family dynamics shifted in desperation, and we feel a general sense of helplessness. Yet, the purpose of the film isn’t to victimise or villainize – it is to explore the observations, experiences, and spirit of one individual during this time in history. Many scenes early in the film illustrate the decadent opportunism of Jews in the ghetto (which Szpilman himself is also accused of) while others show Germans risking their lives to hide Szpilman. At the end of film, you are left with the feeling that there are bad people and good people, but they are not distinguished by German and Jew.
There is so much to say about this film. I only watched it once. More than five months ago.1 But many scenes have remained in my memory like the sweet taste of jam after 3 months of starvation. I still savour them like a tiny piece of caramel, purchased for an exorbitant 20 złotys and split six ways. Some, I can still recite down to the detail of Brody’s shaking hands, water spilling from a half-opened can, a breath taken before a life-or-death performance, and the ringing in my ears following nearby canon fire.
I would highly recommend The Pianist to anyone who enjoys tearjerkers, particularly war dramas exploring the impact of war on civilian communities. The film is often compared and warrants such comparison to Schindler’s List. I also enjoyed Schindler’s List, but The Pianist left a deeper impression on me. Whereas the former presented snapshots of Jewish lives and communities during the Nazi regime, the latter narrowed in on the story of one man, his suffering and what it took to survive it. Those who liked Schindler’s List, Generation War (a German TV show) or Battle of Changsha (an extremely underrated Chinese TV show) will likely enjoy The Pianist. And if you enjoyed The Pianist, I would recommend the above three to you as well. The film is currently streaming on Netflix but before you watch, be warned that it deals with heavy themes and contains extremely brutal and violent scenes.
Lastly, I acknowledge that this film was directed by Roman Polanski which may stir up reservations for many people. I respect your choice if you choose not to watch it, but I encourage you to give the movie a go. A film is not a solo production and this one will leave you amazed at the dedication a whole cast and crew of talented people put into the details of their craft.
The Pianist ~ 5/5 stars
at time of writing.