Criterion Collection: Three Colors [Blu-ray] | DVD Review

Krzysztof Kieślowski’s Three Colors trilogy, finally available in HD thanks to a superb Criterion boxed set, is a work that’s as mesmerizing today as it was on its initial release 17 years ago. It’s ironic that the collection has achieved the timelessness of a true classic, for Three Colors was intended to capture the specific zeitgeist of a unique moment in European history. Conceived – by its financiers, at least – as a cinematic way of manifesting the growing clamor for a unified Europe, Kieślowski was commissioned to make three films, each based on ideals symbolized by the colors of the French flag: blue for freedom, white for equality and red for friendship.

Kieślowski, in collaboration with long time writing partner Krzysztof Piesiewicz, then created scripts that were only tangentially related to these concepts, although a number of reviewers have tied themselves into knots attempting to draw the connections. In truth, the films reduce these doctrines into unrecognizable – but quite practical – applications in service of deeply personal narratives, substituting patriotism’s bullhorn with the soft murmurs of quietly desperate souls. The films paint austere portraits of individualism, complete with hidden agendas, conspiratorial secrets and the miracles of personal reinvention, in stark contrast to the technocratic goal of unification.

Not only is the trilogy of a decidedly anti-collectivist mindset, each film offers a rich and rewarding stand-alone cinematic experience. Related only by the slimmest of narrative threads – a thread that actually seems quite jarring once it’s finally revealed – Blue,White and Red employ different cinematographers, different actors and take place in a variety of European cities. While each film presents a variation in visual aesthetics, the mournful tones of composer Zbigniew Preisner give the pieces a vital kinship, and provide critical psychological linkage.

1993’s Blue sets the benchmark for the entire enterprise, and in terms of feel is the most distinctly “French” offering of the series. Combining the poetic visuals of Godard with the hypnotic pacing of Rohmer, Blue often seems more like a vivid dream than conventional cinema. Juliette Binoche stars as a young woman who is the sole survivor of a road accident that killed her husband and daughter. The underpinnings of her life suddenly wiped away, the film’s early reels create a dizzying sense of disorientation and confusion. As Binoche begins to slowly recover and rebuild, it becomes clear that her life is comprised of a number of mysterious complexities, and her meandering quest for resolution – or to avoid resolution, to be more precise – drives the rest of the film.

Blue is, among a number of things, an analysis of willing subjugation. Kieślowski cleverly celebrates the idea of freedom with a case study of a woman who has freedom thrust upon her, unleashing a series of complications and challenges. The film was tremendously well received in Europe, where it essentially ran the table at Venice, and it cemented Juliette Binoche’s bona-fides as a burgeoning international star. Binoche’s performance here is commanding and compelling, made all the stronger for her flourishes of introversion and vulnerability. But the supporting work of actor Benoit Regent as Olivier, an old family friend, is yet another of Blue’s intriguing and delightful nuggets.

Regent would die a year later at the age of 41. While there are few details available on his death, his tragically short filmography includes some of the most interesting French productions of the 1980s and early 90s, and his screen time to haunting moment ratio is through the roof. In Tavernier’s ‘Round Midnight (1986), he supplied convincing real world context as Dexter Gordon’s psychologist/confessor, and he practically carried Garrel’s I Can no Longer Hear the Guitar (1991) on his back, delivering a poignantly riveting performance that survived the film’s awkward lurches.

1994’s White is the most conventionally constructed cinema of the set, with plot driven twists and turns that evoke Hitchcock and, by extension, Chabrol. A cherub-faced Polish immigrant named Karol (Zbigniew Zamachowski) finds his life in Paris has gone totally off the rails when he is sued for divorce by his pretty bride Dominique (Julie Delpy); a scheming social climber who has branded Karol a loser. The drunken, penniless Karol seeks refuge in the Metro, where a chance meeting with a mysterious countryman (Janusz Gajos) sparks a complex blueprint for revenge.

Those wary of minimal, European style character studies will likely find White the most entertaining of the series, as the unfolding of Karol’s plan features plenty of comic relief and exploits Zamachowski’s endearing nebbishness to the fullest. Equally impressive is Gajos as the dodgy mentor, whose student eventually outshines him in deviousness. Janusz Gajos is a superb talent, and is considered acting royalty in his native Poland, but remains underappreciated in the rest of the world. This reviewer highly recommends 2002’s Tam i z powrotem, readily available in North America on DVD, for a further taste of his charismatic prowess.

The theme of equality does indeed figure prominently in White’s surprising conclusion but, in typical Kieślowski fashion, the concept is presented as a stripped-bare deconstruction. Karol’s scheme for revenge may work as planned, but whether it’s successful is subject to debate. Kieślowski suggests that true equality is unachievable, indeed contrary to human nature. Even in the most perfect utopia – or snowy Warsaw for that matter- some folks are always more equal than others.

Kieślowski saves his best for last with Red (1994), a voyeuristic immersion into the lives of an eclectic group of Geneva residents. The film recalls Hitchcock’s Rear Window while presenting its own deeply personal evocations of alternate reality. Red is distinct in the series for an undercurrent of time shifting, in essence adding an additional dimension to its narrative and forging a trail through territory unexplored by the previous offerings. Irene Jacob, Kieślowski’s leading lady from the equally mystical The Double Life of Veronique (1991), stars as a fashion model of such ethereal beauty she seems to float through the air. A chance encounter with a runaway dog leads her to the door of a retired judge (Jean-Louis Trintignant) who spends his leisurely days listening to his neighbors’ conversations via an illegal wiretap.

Trintignant’s pursuit of God-like omniscience evolves to direct manipulation of Jacob’s unsatisfying romantic life, while the judge eventually offers himself for persecution in an act of self-sacrifice. Part prophet, part yenta, Trintignant’s character is packed with mystical layers, complete with allusions to Christianity, Navajo witchcraft and Hindu notions of transmigration. Jacob’s character completes the analogy, her angelic beauty forming a willing, if not totally aware, vessel for Trintignant’s web spinning and lever pulling, as he subtly engineers the invisible fabric of human events. The thematic payoff to the entire series is included in Red’s dénouement, and while it may seem anti-climactic at first glance, the trilogy’s conclusion raises important and intriguing questions, including speculation of the judge’s unseen involvement in the previous installments.

Nominated for three Oscars, Red was the best received of the series in North America and, with the director finally achieving the international recognition he deserved, Kieślowski’s future appeared bright and limitless. But shockingly, shortly after Red’s release, Kieślowski announced his retirement from filmmaking and retreated to a quiet life in Poland with his wife and daughter. Two years later, Kieślowski would die on the operating table during open heart surgery at the age of 54.

Denied another 20 years or so of the director’s output, Kieslowski’s early demise was a tragedy for lovers of artistic cinema. But his passing had the most profound effect on the career of Irene Jacob. While Binoche and – to a lesser degree – Delpy have gone on to artistic triumphs in other endeavors, Jacob has yet to find another collaborator with such recondite understanding of her unique gossamer. As evidenced by Red and The Double Life of Veronique, Jacob and Kieślowski formed one of the great director – muse partnerships, equal to Godard and Karina, or Scorsese and DeNiro. Sadly, Jacob’s post-Red filmography consists mainly of supporting roles in rather insignificant productions, but it’s no coincidence. To Kieślowski, the shimmering Jacob was a vital building material in his construction of worlds driven by memory and remorse. No one else, apparently, has any idea what to do with her.

All the films feature a native aspect 1.85:1 and are, in a word, gorgeous. The blu-ray takes the unique azure-green tonalities of Blue into a different plane, giving Binoche’s late-night swimming scenes newly mystical possibilities. The flat, gray skies of Poland in White offer an exciting visual contrast with Delphy’s sun drenched wedding flashbacks, and the strategic saturations of Red manage to pop without unleashing the technical aberrations the color often causes on home displays. The late Piotr Sobocinski, Red’s cinematographer, boldly pushed the contrast envelope on several scenes, yet shadows retain remarkable detail, with Trintignant’s face emitting a weathered sparkle. All three transfers are spectacularly clean and rich, allowing Kieślowski’s flawless compositions to shine without distraction. These are not films to be watched at the airport on your iPad.

Criterion has thankfully eschewed the 5.1 remix that accompanies the European release, and the audio arrives here only in 2.0 DTS HD. The tracks are deceptively simple, with Zbigniew Preisner’s warm, enveloping score given equal weight to dialogue, but never in competition. The mix is perfect, with occasional flourishes of natural sound serving as narrative cues. The early scenes of Blue are awash in a muffled and disturbing white noise, which the track delivers with trance-inducing fidelity.

The three disc package includes an impressive array of bonus material, both in terms of quality and sheer bulk. Each disc contains hours of supplements and after a thorough digestion, viewers will qualify as top rank Kieślowski experts. While all are valuable and recommended, in the interest of keeping this review at a manageable length, we will restrict ourselves to the most rewarding offerings.

Three cinema lessons with director Krzysztof Kieślowski
Seated at a Moviola, Kieślowski reviews a sequence from each of the films, and discusses rationalizations and background information on the editing choices he made. Viewers will get a sense of Kieślowski’s use of small, at times tiny, details to build character. He discusses subtle commonalties among the three films, and the importance of repeated images in Red to create an atmosphere of memory and chronological shifting.

New interviews with writer Krzysztof Piesiewicz, composer Zbigniew Preisner, and actors Julie Delpy, Irène Jacob, and Zbigniew Zamachowski
This extensive program, divided into segments that accompany each disc, contains a number of fascinating recollections and observations. We learn that Delpy was originally offered Binoche’s role in Blue, but turned it down when she found the character impenetrable. Presiner discusses Kieślowski’s unusual habit of consulting with the composer early in pre-production, and Zamachowski describes his long time relationship with the director. Piesiewicz reflects on Kieślowski’s tremendous courage and honesty, along with the great love of mankind that imbued his work. Jacob offers insight on the director’s lengthy rehearsal and blocking techniques, and virtually all the participants eventually become misty-eyed as they mourn the loss of Kieślowski. In all, the compilation is a well done, definitive memoir, with plenty of informational and emotional content.

New video essays on Blue, White, and Red by film writers Annette Insdorf, Tony Rayns, and Dennis Lim
Each installment includes an essay, approximately 20 minutes in length, by a Kieślowski scholar. Insdorf’s analysis of Blue examines the idea of love being an impediment to freedom, and makes a number of salient points about Binoche’s character. Rayns looks at White from the perspective of Polish independence, and that nation’s rush to catch up economically with the rest of Europe, while Lim goes in-depth on Red’s symbolism and contrasting of tragedies and miracles. Presented in HD, all three essays are well produced and edited, with penetrating insights from their authors and should be considered indispensable viewing.

Full-length 1995 documentary featuring Kieślowski
This fifty-five minute program, filmed by Kieślowski’s own crew just a year before his death, is a revealing look into the psyche of this talented and complex auteur. In the Director’s own words, we hear his life’s story, from a humble childhood through international filmmaking fame. His filmography is examined, and we learn much about Kieślowski’s difficult relationship with authority, and how resentment and fear of Poland’s communist government shaped his work and world outlook. This program stands as a valuable first hand testament to a lost artist and a lost world, and future generations will find it an irreplaceable educational resource.

A booklet featuring essays by film critics Colin MacCabe, Nick James, Stuart Klawans, and Georgina Evans; an excerpt from Kieslowski on Kieślowski; and reprinted interviews with cinematographers Idziak, Edward Klosinski, and Piotr Sobocinski
More a textbook than a booklet, this 78 page tome is a beautifully designed and executed publication. Featuring six different articles and excerpts, its pages contain a wealth of knowledge about the trilogy. Of particular interest to students and industry professionals is Shooting Three Colors, a reprint of a 1993 French interview with the trilogy’s cinematographers. Numerous film stills illustrate the handsome booklet, which also features notes on the transfer and production credits.

It’s fair to say that Three Colors revived interest in Art House cinema at a time when established European directors were consumed with nostalgia and romance. Within the trilogy framework, Kieślowski managed to create three distinctly personal and thematically diverse films that neither depend nor intrude on each other. Yet, the works share enough commonalities of spirit to be forever linked in ways that seem infinitely organic and honest. Criterion has crafted a high quality blu-ray edition worthy of Kieślowski’s masterpiece. This deluxe boxed set is highly recommended for holiday giving to even the most discriminating cinephile. Especially if that person is yourself.

Reviewed by David Anderson

Movie rating – 5

Disc Rating – 5