ThiefHott Too much of everything

BroadcastChic Excellent, a Must See

Solidrariol Am I Missing Something?

Ariella Broughton It is neither dumb nor smart enough to be fun, and spends way too much time with its boring human characters.

besherat "Illusions "are the latest film by famous Polish director . An extraordinary film achievement that has rounded its imposing opus. The film deals with a topic that is current at all times, that is, how to remain consistent and how to confront the region of a totalitarian and captured state. We all know this well, because from this form we did not move even for inch. If you have not approved it, if you are not applauding, if you are not similar, if you have your own opinion, the state will endeavor to show you its power to bring you under the livelihood line, as director magnificently presented in this biographical film about Polish painter . Extremely strong frames that plasticize all the misery of human life. Film for each recommendation.

Ruben Mooijman 'After Image' shows the struggle of one man against a system. The man is Wladyslaw Strzeminski, a Polish avant garde painter, and the system is postwar communism. Slowly, we see the man being destroyed by the system. Witnesses stand by, but are unable to do anything. That's how powerful totalitarianism is: any opposition, even from a harmless painter, is crushed.In the very first scene, we see Strzeminski in a beautiful green meadow, teaching his pupils how to paint a landscape. When a new pupil presents herself, he literally rolls down the hillside to meet her - in spite of his disabilities: he misses one leg and one arm. Strzeminski is happy and upbeat. During the film, this proud man slowly transforms into a human wreck. At the end, he is no longer able to stand on his feet, let alone roll down a hillside.Bit by bit, the communists make his life impossible. In a visually stunning scene, all light in his apartment turns red, because of a giant Stalin banner which is attached over his window. Furious, because he is no longer able to paint in natural daylight, he tears the banner with one of his crutches. It's the start of a fight against the system that turns out to be futile.Director Andrzej Wajda, who died last year, shows Strzeminski as a man who lives for his art, and for nothing else. Even his teenage daughter is forced to move to an orphanage, because he doesn't seems to be interested in raising her. Wajda shows Strzeminski's weaknesses, but also his opponent's doubts. Many of them somehow sympathize with him, but are unable to show support without risking their own position. An example is the manager of the local museum, who cannot display his paintings, but carefully keeps them in storage.Parallel with Strzeminski's decline, we witness also Poland's transformation from a proud nation into a Soviet-dominated satellite state, where communist propaganda is everywhere and the quality of life deteriorates rapidly. In one scene, Strzeminski is turned down by a shop selling painting materials, because his membership of the artist's union is withdrawn. He hides his disappointment and takes his daughter to the cinema. But there he finds out he has to watch Soviet propaganda. Disgusted, he leaves the theatre.'After Image' shows an important episode of Poland's artistic history. At the same time, it is a warning against any totalitarianism, and an ode to artistic freedom.

maurice yacowar Andrzej Wajda's Afterimage was released in 2016, just after he died at 90. It's a moving valedictory. This is Wajda's last will and testament. He bequeaths the legacy of the independent artist who pursues a personal vision and style in the face of reactionary and political dictates. Wajda is arguably Poland's most important director, with his searing anatomies of Polish history and politics. He made A Generation in 1955(!) — followed by Kanal and Ashes and Diamonds two and three years later. Leap ahead 60 years and he still has that fire in his belly.His last hero is the modernist painter Wladyslaw Strzeminski, who worked with Chagall and Malevich and introduced abstraction and modernity to Polish art. Strzeminski lost an arm and a leg in the first world war. As he limps and fumbles through the film he becomes an emblem of director Wajda himself — an old man, weakened by age and debility, but persisting in the art of his vision.The depressing narrative traces Strzeminski's steady loss of authority, respectability and comfort. Such is the price of an artist's independence and integrity. The Stalinist government punishes him for ignoring their prescription of Social Realism. This artist refuses to serve the state so the state punishes him to the end. He loses his job, his students, his marriage, his status, his living. Without the artist ID card he can't buy paint, leave alone hold down even a job as an illustrator, far beneath his abilities. But this artist holds true to his vision. A huge red banner of Stalin cuts off the artist's light. So he slashes it open — incurring his arrest and the ultimatum either to conform or to disappear. The title refers to the artist's lecture on the physiological basis of vision. The eye retains an afterimage of what it has viewed. It is never an exact duplication of the physical reality — such as Social Realism purports to be — but inflected by the artist's character and emotions. Hence the importance of this artist's memory of blue, his lost wife's eyes, the white flowers he dues blue to bring to her snowy grave. An artist's canon is another form of Afterimage, the vision that survives him. Hence the film's upbeat conclusion, where the bright colours of this abstractionist's work erupt over the end titles, superseding the dismal colours which record his affliction. That last bright palette validates the artist's suffering and loss. The film also records the human cost of tyranny. This artist's students and friends remain faithful to him as ling as they can — at a cost. They have to give him up to establish their own careers. Aiding him leaves them vulnerable to arrest or even "disappearance" — as befalls the student who loves him and types out his theories on art. If the film addresses Wajda's imminent departure, it is also a rallying call against the creeping spread of right wing governments in Europe, Defending the individual vision against a proscriptive government is very much a statement for our time.

rlychowski Amazing feat: at the age of 90 Andrzej Wajda is as convincing as he was at the age of 50! Exceptional cinematography: Marek Edelman as excellent as ever. Outstanding acting: Bogoslaw Linda a good bet for best acting. A very good script: keeping balance between the inevitably highbrow dialogues on art and unexpected turns of action. And example for this can be the end of a potential "love affair", which does not end on a romantic note but strikes hard with the brutal abducting of a beautiful girl. Who, by the way, is not the central romantic character. On the contrary, the "great love" remains invisible and is only made romantically visible by white flowers that turn blue. What could more lyrically stress the importance of color in life? By the way, that end of the "love story" is not a harsh rejection, as it may seem, but rather proves that the artist was really fond of the young girl and, nobly, would not allow her to wretch her life at his side.The film is about the cruelty of the Stalinist period and how it intervened and interfered in the private lives of the common citizen and all the more so in the sphere of art, which "had to serve the people and the final victory of socialism". There are no throats being cut, people being shot or hanged. No spanking. Everything takes place in and "orderly way", for strict rules must be followed. Or perhaps only almost always! This reminds us of Kieslowski's film about killing or the thick atmosphere of Arthur Koestler's "Darkness at noon". Little by little art, i.e. the protagonist, is being suffocated. It is like cutting his veins, but not at once, slowly, in slow motion. Let him bleed to death, but "naturally". That was really a very hard time and Andrzej Wajda knows what he is talking about, for he experienced it "on his own skin", as you say in Polish. A symbolic image summarizes the pic: the window in the artist's dwelling is suddenly veiled by a red banner. A painter can somehow bear poverty, but can he survive without light? Brushes, paint? Wajda's choice of the actor (Boguslaw Linda) to embody Wladyslaw Strzeminski, one of the great Polish artists and art professors of that period, was fundamental to the artistic value of the picture. Bearing also in mind the fact that he had to play a cripple, who had lost two limbs, certainly made his acting even more daunting. And the outcome is certainly impressive.Another factor that helps sooth the dreariness of the artist's predicaments is the strong presence of the teenager actress (Bronislawa Zamachowska) who plays his daughter. Her seemingly matter of fact reactions to reality and only rare expressions of deeper feelings function as a balance between the drama we witness and the everyday chores or the mere sipping of tea. "There are holes in my shoes" or "You smoke too much". His adoring students, on the other hand, may represent what was left of hope in those days. Their solidarity with the aging, crippled professor was an omen of better times to come, for who can defeat youth? And who can defeat art? The material shabbiness of those times, when "all were equal, but some were more equal than others", with food rationing, very poor dwellings etc. is shown in detail. Some viewers used to cinematic tangibility may not appreciate some of Wajda's discreet, very subtle hints and symbolic images, but, no doubt, in artistic terms this pic is a comeback to his heydays.Rio Film Festival 8th October, 2016 Tomasz Lychowski