“Tell me, why do you play voyeur?”

The Polish film A Short Film About Love (Krotki Film o Milosci) from director Krzysztof Kieslowski seems to be a simple tale about obsession, but obsession never really is a simple thing, and it’s never a solitary action–although it may seem so. Once the object of the obsession becomes aware of another’s intense focus, then he or she is dragged into the obsession too, and an unwilling reciprocity begins. And such is the case in A Short Film About Love. The film was originally one of ten films in the director’s Decalogue. But the film was extended to just over 80 minutes and released by Kino.

Young, retiring postal clerk Tomek (Olaf Lubaszenko) is obsessed with his older, attractive neighbour Magda (Grazyna Szapolowska) who lives in the apartment opposite. He times her comings and goings, and spies on her sexual liaisons through a well-placed telescope. Tomek, an orphan who lives with an absent friend’s mother is a lonely emotionally stunted soul. With no friends, and no social life, his world gravitates around glimpses of Magda. Soon Tomek even manufactures additional ingenious ways to catch a glimpse of his obsession. Magda is blissfully unaware that she’s spied on, and through her open curtains, Magda carries on her normal, mostly solitary life, indulging in the occasional sexual liaison.

As Tomek’s obsession intensifies, Magda finally catches on, and her initial reaction is anger at the invasion of her privacy. This gives way to curiosity and she eventually becomes intrigued, and they establish a pseudo relationship. Magda, however attempts to redefine her relationship with Tomek in two ways–both of which end badly.

This tale of loneliness and the emotional distance between damaged souls explores Tomek and Magda’s relationship through the prism of need and love. Magda, whose bitterness shows in the cracks of her sophisticated veneer, no longer believes in love, whereas Tomek has a need to idealize the object of his obsession. Through Tomek, Magda catches a glimpse of what she could be to someone, while Tomek catches stolen glimpses of a woman he can never possess. Magda is too hard and too world-weary to handle Tomek’s sensitivity, and he’s too damaged to cope with anything beyond a relationship in which the telescope maintains a safe distance with his love object. And what if Tomek had stumbled on a 20-year-old version of Magda? What is she stumbled on a 40-year-old version of Tomek? Would anything be different? Could these characters connect? In Polish with subtitles.

“I’m only doing my duty.”

A man travels back to his small hometown in Germany after an absence of 40 years. With his teenage son in tow, his goal is to piece together exactly what happened to his mother during WWII. As he tries to talk to villagers and discover the truth, a story unfolds of a tragic love affair between the man’s German mother and a Polish prisoner of war. Their fate becomes the focus of the film, A Love in Germany.

Through flashbacks, the story unfolds of Paulina Kropp (Hanna Schygulla) who runs a small grocery shop while her husband serves in the German army. The villagers use incarcerated Polish prisoners-of-war for unpaid labour. The POWs are subject to strict rules–they are not supposed to live, eat or fraternize with the Germans. Polish POW Stanislaus (Piotr Lysak) sleeps in the stables, and he’s ‘loaned’ out for various tasks. Stanislaus begins doing work for Paulina, and they engage in a steamy affair. In the village, it’s impossible to keep anything secret–and soon the affair is common knowledge.

While A Love in Germany from director Andrzej Wajda is ostensibly the story of a love affair between two people who were supposed to be enemies, the film is much more than that. By retelling the affair, the film subtly examines Germany’s past. When the forbidden affair inevitably comes to the attention of the authorities, ordinary German citizens become involved with irrevocable decisions. What should be an intimate, private matter between two people is dissected, analyzed, and judged according to rules and regulations set forth by Himmler. The question of the “Ayran-ness” of Paulina and Stanislaus will help decide their fate, and neighbours, friends and acquaintances collaborate in a sick system. The fine actor, Armin Mueller-Stahl plays Mayer, a German officer who is out of his moral depth, but consoles himself by following the minutiae set forth in documents regarding interracial couples. Mayer’s underling, Schutze, is a petty bureaucrat given the authority and the uniform of a monstrous system. Based on the novel by Rolf Hochhuth, this excellent film is in Polish with English subtitles.

 “I predict a great disaster for Russia.”

Set in 1917, right before the Russian Revolution begins, the Polish film, Beautiful Stranger is based on the novel by Aleksei Tolstoi. Twenty-three-year-old Lt. Nikita Obozov (Wojciech Malajkat) is on furlough from the front, and he’s enjoying a last evening with friends in a restaurant when Rasputin arrives. Rasputin, at first brings life to the sedate atmosphere of the eatery–demanding champagne for the gypsy band, and dancing in between the tables. But when Rasputin goes too far, Obozov steps in to protect the honour of a lady. With this act, noted by a quiet officer sitting nearby, Obozov marks himself as both reckless and a romantic.

The next day Obozov is ordered to deliver secret documents to Stockholm via an overland train journey. He’s been selected for this mission thanks to his behaviour in the restaurant. To Obozov, the mission represents an escape from his normally arduous army life at the front, but within a few hours, a beautiful, seductive older woman (Grazyna Szapolowska) who’s also on the train in the compartment next door teases Obozov–causing him to forget–temporarily at least–the hidden secret documents.

This Polish film has an inherent romance that is absent from the more cynical worldview of Russian film, so in a sense, the film set in Russia and about Russians is an anomaly. Beautiful Stranger tracks the relationship that grows between the naive Lt. Obozov and the gorgeous woman, as they travel on the train from Russia to Stockholm. Train journeys are the most romantic form of travel, and the film capitalizes on this aspect of the setting. Obozov’s head spins at the possibility of a romantic liaison on the speeding train, and he also dreams when he sleeps–and in his dreams, he replays a recurring event that took place in a frozen field at the front. This recurring scene–a nightmare he’s tucked away–returns at the very end of the film to provide a perfect, poignant ending.

The sense of romance in the film is high, but there’s really very little plot here. The acting, a little stilted at times, is hampered by the fact that the dialogue is just a few seconds behind lip movement. Directed by Jerzy Hoffman, Beautiful Stranger is in Polish with English subtitles.