A Short Film About Killing Review

19-year-old Jacek (Miroslaw Baka) wanders aimlessly about Warsaw. He cares nothing about those around him, pushing a man down in a public restroom, dropping a rock off an overpass into traffic. Having coffee in a cafe, he works on cutting a piece of rope down to a suitable length for use as a garrote.
A middle aged taxi driver (Jan Tesarz) cleans his cab outside his apartment building. He ogles a young woman working a produce truck and denies a fare to a married couple looking for a ride. He honks his car horn to frighten two passing dogs being taken for a walk and possibly poisons another.
Piotr Balicki (Krzysztof Globisz), an idealistic man in his thirties, after a combined eight years of studies and apprenticeship, has been admitted to the defense council of lawyers. Adamantly against capital punishment, he hopes to be a just voice of reason in Poland's legal machine.
These three men will find their paths crossing as one senseless murder leads to another, state sanctioned killing.

Krzysztof Kieslowski's 1988 film A Short Film About Killing ( a feature length expansion of the fifth Decalogue episode) establishes its grim tone, look, and subject matter right from its opening shots: a dead rat floating in a pool of filthy water, and a stangled cat hanging from a noose, both photographed through a sickly green filter. These images also foreshadow the fates of the taxi driver (rodent) and hi equally doomed killer (feline).
Kieslowski uses the first third of his film to cut between his three main characters, highlighting the similarities between Jacek and the cab driver. Both display an almost casual cruelty. Jacek, when he drops the rock from the bridge, causes an accident; we do not see it, but the sound of breaking glass and screeching tires makes it sound fairly major. The taxi driver scares dogs, ignores fares because he is not officially on the clock yet, and in all likelihood poisons a animal; the way he sneers at the dog and encourages him to eat it up would appear to indicate this. (Also the boy in Decalogue I tells his father he saw a dead dog. They live in the same apartment complex as the cabbie.) Conversely, Piotr is about to embark on a new, hopeful phase of his life. He has been admitted to the bar, he has a wonderful relationship with his wife, and, we learn later, he will become a father.
Curiously, Jacek and the taxi driver both show seem to lower their defenses in the presence of children. Jacek playfully flings coffee and pastry at the cafe window to make two little girls laugh. The cabbie, for all his rudeness to everyone else, stops at a crosswalk and lets a group of schoolchildren pass. It is the last remotely kind thing he will ever do.

Jacek murders the taxi driver for no real reason (although he does take his car, perhaps as a way to leave this bleak city for good). The killing is a long and arduous affair, certainly one of the most violent and harrowing ever put on screen. To Kieslowski's immense credit, it never, no for one single second, seems exploitative. The director cuts from the aftermath of the murder to the end of Jacek's trial. That he is found guilty is neither surprising, nor, ultimately, important. His sentence, however, is. Piotr, given as his first case one he could not possibly hope to win given the brutality of the crime, finds his client on death row. This is crippling both emotionally and morally for the attorney. He spends a brief amount of time with Jacek just before his execution in which we learn more about the young man's past. While there is still no excusing what he did, we do come to understand, if only a little bit, how he ended up so lost. His subsequent murder at the hand of the state is just as difficult to watch as the initial crime.

Kieslowski and his superb cameraman Slawomir Idziak (The Double Life of Veronique, Blue), portray Warsaw in a cold, dirty light. Idziak's use of filters gives everything a horribly jaundiced look that at times verges on the oppressive. It is a highly stylized looks that fits the story perfectly. As he explains in the accompanying interview, Kieslowski gave him complete freedom to experiment, and that trust paid off.
Zbigniew Preisner's score is darker and more ominous than his usual work with Kieslowski, but this is also the bleakest project any of them ever worked on. The music is not without its more lyrical passages, but there are also parts that evoke a sickening dread.
Baka, Globisz, and Tesarz are all exceptional in their roles. Baka in particular pulls off a tricky, demanding role well. Evoking audience sympathy for a killer is no easy feat, but with the aid of screenwriters Kieslowski and Krzysztof Piesiewicz he pulls it off. All three actors have continued to do film work in Poland but remain largely unknown here.
Kino's DVD replicates the transfer and special features previously only available on region 2 British and French import discs, making this important film much easier for U.S. viewers to see. The film is letterboxed at 1.66 and enhanced for widescreen televisions. Extras include an lengthy interview with Idziak; an interview with director and colleague Agnieska Holland; and brief discussions on the film with Kieslowski friend/scholar Annette Insdorf (familiar to viewers of Miramax's Three Colors box set) and Antonin Liehm. Trailers ane included for this film, A Short Film About Love (to be reviewed next week), Blind Chance, No End, and Camera Buff. The most significant extra feature is the inclusion of Kieslowski's 1978 short From a Night Porter's Point of View. The documentary follows the porter of the title as he goes about his day both at work and at home, all the while espousing his views on his job, youth, and, most significantly, capital punishment. It's an excellent film that ends on a surprisingly poignant note.

A Short Film About Killing will be released on May 11, along with its companion feature A Short Film About Love. Kino's other Kieslowski titles, The Scar, Camera Buff, Blind Chance, and No End, will follow in August.
Posted by jason at March 24, 2004 8:00 AM
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The late Polish film-maker Krzysztof Kieslowski, who began his career as a documentarian, has, with the Decalogue, produced what is surely one of the defining moments in late twentieth century cinema. Kieslowski's project, out of whose fifth episode this film grew, was nothing less than a wholescale re-interpretation of the Ten Commandments, applied to modern life. In A Short Film About Killing, Kieslowski shows us a murder and its aftermath. Jacek, a young man, dreams of escaping the Warovian housing projects and dreary, late-Communist life to visit the mountains with his girlfriend. At the same time, a young lawyer graduates from law school, is called ot the Polish bar, nad has his first child. In what is surely one of the most horrific killings on screen, Jacek brutally strangles and beats a cab driver to death. Kieslowski's film goes on to examine the consequences of the murder on not only Jacek but his young lawyer. Kieslowski's film achieves its brilliance in its delicate balance of condemnation with compassion. Even as we see the justice of Jacek's execution, the subtly riveting scenes where we hear of the major trauma of his childhood undermine any easy sense of moral certainty we have developed. The final execution is nearly impossible to watch, as Kieslowski has, by then, made his point-- that there is an ineffable beauty in life, and that, as Plato suggested in the Republic, justice is somethign that improves us, not which destroys.
Warsaw, ably filmed by the brilliant Slawomir Idziak (the cinematographer of GATTACA), is soaked in green and yellow colours, pestilential, and sometimes oddly beautiful. Kieslowski's pacing is superb. The film paints and whispers when it needs to, then it simply and quietly rips the viewer's heart out. Ultimately, the film's suggestion is deceptively simple: killing, be it for individual gain, or by the State as sanctioned punishment, is murder.