Katyn - Film Review

Surely Polish cinema's finest and most distinguished filmmaker, trailblazing and Oscar winning director Andrzej Wajda here turns his attention rather close to home with a historical piece regarding the Katyn Massacre of 1940.

The incident, the mass execution of roughly 20,000 Polish army officers in the titular forest, is covered with a rather unexpected angle, shrouding the actual atrocity in mystery and focussing on its ramifications over the course of the following five years, in particular the burden of unknowing carried by two families.

It starts in 1939, with Poland attacked from both sides by German and Russian armies exploiting their mutual non-aggression pact. After being forced into surrender, the military's officer corps is rounded up by Soviet forces, taken as POWs ready to be transitted to Eastern gulags. Anna (Maja Ostaszewska) is the wife of one of said men, Andrzej (Artur Zmijewski), and after a desperare farewell, has to watch him being taken by train out of the country. In the same shipment of prisoners is his friend Jerzy (Andrzej Chyra) and a senior General (Jan Englert) with his own worried family left behind.

With the Soviets and Germans now in control of the country, Anna and her daughter (Wiktoria Gasiewska) face an uncertain fate, endangered by Anna's status as an Officer's wife, and attempt to dodge the attention of the occupation while awaiting news of Andrzej. All hope is lost following the revelation that a mass grave filled with Polish POWs has been discovered in the Katyn forest, and the released Jerzy bringing news that Andrzej is seemingly one of the dead. As the years pass, and the nature of the occupation mutating, the blame for the crime is pinned on the Germans, despite the apparently blatant part played by the Soviets, and efforts are made by the survivors to establish just what happened in the woods that fateful morning.

One of the things that makes Katyn stand out from similar efforts, aside from it shedding light on an oddly unheard of incident, is that it takes a different view of the matter. Wajda, who's own father was killed in the massacre, instead pays heed to the uncertainty over the victims (the unreliable Katyn list), to the loved ones of those killed, and to the cover up instigated by the Soviet Union's secret police. The maddening nature of the Russian occupation's unaccountability for the deaths is a keystone of the story, and the effects of the denial on the population are undeniable.

As such, the film's big moment, the actual mass murder itself, is only shown and illuminated in gut wrenching, flesh crawling style at the very end, the final revelation as proof seemingly emerges and the prospect of justice seems far closer than ever before. That closure is granted to Anna, who has spent five years simply not knowing what to believe, provides a human conclusion to the story.

While Katyn is a noble and occasionally powerful film, enfused with a strong sense of purpose and moral equity, its main flaw is that for much of the running time, it tries to do too much in too little time, nearly tarnishing the impact of the conclusion, and the dichtonomy of the piece. While Wajda's directing is excellent, music clinical and acting (particularly from We're All Christs star Andrzej Chyra, and Maja Ostaszewska) first rate, the film's uneven pacing becomes a problem during the bumpy middle, and the introduction of new characters is an awkwardly handled process, with the likes of Magdalena Cielecka's Agnieszka stepping into the plot with no real introduction or apparent reason, and then moving out again in baffling circumstances. The small, poignant role of Anna's nephew Tadeusz (Antoni Pawlicki), an eager young student torn between family honour and his education within the occupation, is a brief but highly effective exception.

With this, Wajda is clearly striving to go beyond the norms of such war horror fare and open the door on the equally insidious house of cards upon which the dishonest Soviet occupation mounted their lies about the incident, and also by bringing into play the other side of the tragedy, the loss felt by those left behind by the appaling act. While at times he succeeds, and certainly raises awareness of the darkest of dark moments within the 20th Century, an occasional lack of focus means that Katyn falls short of its targets, and doesn't quite reach the heights it really should.

Certainly effective filmmaking, it doesn't quite live up to its own billing, and such can be viewed as flawed rather than ill-judged, good instead of great.


8/10

Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy - Film Review

Taking John Le Carre's classic spy mystery thriller and turning it into a cogent feature film was always going to be a troublesome task, especially considering the cult status of the preceding Alec Guinness mini-series. But Swedish director Tomas Alfredson approaches the material with a combination of reverence and fullhearted determination.

Following a disastarous operation in Budapest which results in the death of one of their operatives, the British Intelligence Service (The Circus as they are known) react by firing their head honcho 'Control' (John Hurt) and his right hand man George Smiley (Gary Oldman), who both promptly retire. Not long after, information emerges that there is a mole working for the Russians within the Circus, and Smiley is asked to identify the double agent.

Setting up his covert assignment, Smiley inlists the help of junior spy Peter Guillam (Benedict Cumberbatch) , and sets about monitoring and investigating his former colleagues. He narrows his search down to the codenamed, titular heads of the organisation: Bill Hadley - 'Tinker' (Colin Firth), Percy Alleline - 'Tailor' (Toby Jones), Roy Bland - 'Soldier' (Ciaran Hinds) and Toby Hesterhase - 'Poor Man' (David Dencik). Along the way he encounters double crossing, double bluffs and shock revelations as the suspicions fluctuate and the finger of accusation criss crosses.

Considering the esteem in which the source material is held, it's no great surprise to see just how much quality the ensemble possesses here. In terms of talent, it is a star studded line up for quite an understated piece. And Alfredson, never bowed by the material, does wonderfuly well to harness everything and keep it together. Attention is payed to the right people at the right time, with the film's use of flashbacks never jarring enough to distract you from events. Everybody gets their moment in the sun, and nobody is set out as a sacred cow or a dead cert at any point, with every strong reaction framed as a potential sign of guilt.

While the labyrinthe plot, which not only involves the main 'hunt for the Ruskie lover' focus but also international diplomacy and deliberately convuluted background schemes involving Russian activity in the red sea, is complex, the film doesn't simply dive into dry, talky expositional investigation. Scenes that come to pass are unbearably tense, and some of the story's most effective moments are emotional ones, as we get glimmers (in Smiley's case) or personal strife as well some moving, tragic, deeply personal tales.

The best of these go to Mark Strong's Jim Prideaux, a loyal agent who is dumped on the scrap heap, teaching at a boy's school and living in a miserable caravan, and also to Tom Hardy's Ricki Tarr, a frontline operative who loses sight of professional discretion when he falls for the wife of the Russian diplomat he's tracking, with potentially fatal results. These segments, ultimately vital to the plot in a manner perhaps unclear for long stretches, are played beautifuly and written lovingly, while also serving as a well placed indictment of the shadow men that the film portrays.

Of what is seen of the home lives of the characters, the word 'shambolic' springs to mind. Smiley, immaculate professionally, is troubled by his straying wife and forces his feelings and self below the surface, hidden behind a veneer of calm and composure behind the large spectacles. A maze of deep bonds and hidden secrets pass from agent to agent, suggestions of more than meets the eye, but scant confirmation. The exception is Tarr, a young and cocky, but tough and knowing, figure who has no qualms about baring his soul even as he scampers from hiding hole to darkened room, a hunted man.

It's the depth that exists so viscerally in Tinker Tailor that makes it so compelling. On paper, little is revealed about any of the players in the game, even the protagonist. Yet in practice, brought to life by a set of actors at the top of their game, each have their own story and their own personality, even when it isn't in written form. From top to bottom, the film is stuffed with top drawer performers, from Firth and Toby Jones to Hardy, Cumberbatch and even Kathy Burke and Stephen Graham in smaller roles. Special credit must be given to Mark Strong, who is given the chance to display prominent vulnerability and tragic conflict as Jim Prideaux. His menial, depressing existence is steeped in loneliness, only moved by his bond with a outcast young boy he teaches, another Bill. It is touching yet, in its conclusion, ultimately sad.

But of course, the master of the show is Gary Oldman, an actor of incredible talent rarely given the centre of focus. There isn't a better actor in the industry for chameleon-like performance, and here he is at the top of his game. As soon as he appears, he promptly disappears into Smiley, inhabiting him seemlessly, with every telling adjustment of his jacket or thoughtful, dubious stare. It is as far as you can get from a 'big performance', and all the better for it. This is a three dimensional character, brought wonderfuly to life, subtle and understated, quiet and reserved. Though almost twenty minutes elapse before he speaks, you can almost hear his voice already, such is the projection. His long overdue Oscar nod is justified on the basis of his turn here.

For all that Tinker Tailor is a compelling, not to mention at times rivetting, thriller whodunnit, it takes a step up from what could have been simply entertaining but showing ferocious intelligence, not just in terms of plot but also in terms of people. With a full house of class act performances, led at the top by an acting collussus at his own peak, and one of the finer adaptations of recent times, the film really is stand out. And, it seems, much extra value comes in when he realise its repeat value. John Le Carre must surely be very satisfied.


9/10