Three Colors: Red

There's a sense of finality in Krzysztof Kieślowski's Three Colors: Red. (It being his final film before retiring -- and subsequently his death in 1996 -- might have something to do with it.) It's as though he wants to maintain some closure before his time on this earth was no more.

The film follows Valentine Dussault (Irène Jacob) as she goes about with her day. With a possessive boyfriend waiting for her back in London, she tries to find a sense of independence. Then she meets retired judge Joseph Kern (Jean-Louis Trintigant), and her life slowly changes.

What makes Three Colors: Red so interesting is its unassuming nature. We don't know what to expect from either Valentine or any of the other characters we're introduced to. It's that particular trait from Kieślowski that often ranks him as an unsung great in film.

And Kieślowski shows there's more to the film than it initially lets on. Three Colors: Red is through and through about that ever-present human need to connect. (The opening sequence best proves this claim.) Even when one claims they prefer being alone, they can ache for the care from someone else.

Three Colors: Red is one of those rare swan songs where it leaves the viewer satisfied yet leaves them wanting more. As Kieślowski had shown throughout his extensive career, he was interested in stories about the average human being's day-to-day life. Not those with fantastical elements or absurd plots; he just wanted to depict the world he saw with his own eyes.

My Rating: ****1/2

Three Colors: White

There are those who are basically a punching bag for the whole universe. They try and try and try but they can't escape life's punishments for them. (No one ever gets their fair shake of the stick.)

Karol Karol (Zbigniew Zamachowski) of Krzysztof Kieślowski's Three Colors: White fits this character type to a T. After unwillingly getting divorced from Dominique (Julie Delpy), his life starts to crumble. In his attempts to re-claim his dignity, he goes down a morally ambiguous path.

In contrast with the previous film of this trilogy, Three Colors: White has a dark sense of humor towards Karol's suffering. (It would make Kafka feel pity for him.) But there's something else on focus in the film, something that might not immediately take notice.

Being made in the years after the Cold War's end, Three Colors: White is also an observation on Europe's economy at the time. Kieślowski shows how following the collapse of the Soviet Union, countries once in the tight grip of communist control now thrive. (Okay, maybe that's a bit of a stretch but it's something to consider.)

While not as strong as its predecessor, Three Colors: White has its merits. As is often seen in fiction, the union between Karol and Dominique shows how a supposedly happy marriage is anything but. And as Kieślowski also depicts here, sometimes the tables are turned when one least expects it. (Sometimes for the better, sometimes for the worse; either way, it will affect their life.)

My Rating: ****

Three Colors: Blue

We all grieve in different ways. Some wallow in their pain, others behave as though nothing has happened. It varies from person to person naturally but it's still a very common occurrence in life.

Krzysztof Kieślowski's Three Colors: Blue focuses on Julie (Juliette Binoche) following the deaths of her husband and young daughter. She tries to disconnect herself from the world afterwards but finds it's a task easier said than done. (No one ever said such a matter would be without its complications.)

Julie finds in her attempts to isolate herself, she ends up connecting more to those around her. There's a certain truth that one might try to reach out during a time of grief, hoping to find some comfort amid their pain. Again, it depends on the person but overall not everyone wants to be completely alone.

As Kieślowski previously showed with The Double Life of Veronique, Three Colors: Blue finds a certain beauty in its simplicity. No desire for the melodramatics, no need for anything overwrought. All he wants the audience to see is how Julie's life has changed.

Three Colors: Blue examines the value of one's life both once it's over and when it's still ongoing. Kieślowski makes a film that's intimate without being intrusive. And being released the same year as many other prestigious productions like Schindler's List and The Remains of the Day, it shows that 1993 was one hell of a year when it came to depicting human emotion.

My Rating: *****

The Double Life of Veronique

Krzysztof Kielslowski's The Double Life of Veronique is a simple film...at least to those who have seen only stills of it. In reality, it's much more deeper.

The film revolves around Polish singer Weronika and French music teacher Veronique, both played by Irene Jacob. Apart from their affinity for music, the two women share no connection, emotional, physical or personal. However, there is a sort of mental bond between them.

It's fascinating to see two different women actually share so much in common. The way Kielslowski depicts it is in a way most directors rarely use: honest and quiet. And the moment where Weronika encounters Veronique is lovely in execution.

There's more to the film than Jacobs' dual roles and Kielslowski's direction. There's Zbigniew Preisner's gorgeous score and Slawomir Idziak's even more gorgeous cinematography. Bear in mind, I haven't felt this way about a film since I first saw A Single Man over two years ago. When the score and cinematography play an important role in a film as much as the acting and direction, that's always a very good sign.

I usually never completely fall in love with a film I rarely knew about prior to watching, but The Double Life of Veronique is one of those very few exceptions. It's a very delicate and beautiful film, which is very rare in cinema nowadays. Saying the film left me speechless is a vast understatement.

My Rating: *****