Haunting, Timeless, Unforgettable, Uplifting...One for the Ages

Rating: 10/10 (23 February 2003)

Although not nearly as epic and emotionally devastating as "Schindler's List", Roman Polanski's deeply personal "Pianist" is by many measures a greater film and a work of true cinematic art. Haunting, cold, and austere where other films are sentimental and clichéd; true to the horrors of human existence where other films play for shock and gore; poignantly quiet where other films are overwhelmed by a swelling music score; darkly comic where other films don't even dare speak a word; and universally compelling where other films are specific and preachy (though a fact based Holocaust tale, this could have been anyone's tale of triumph over the horrors of man's brutality towards each other and could speak to a tribal warrior in Somalia or Palestinian separatist just as much as it does to a Jew from Poland). This is a film deeply rooted in the ethereal realm of the timeless artistic representation of man's struggle against adversity and our innate will to survive.
I can't remember the last time I watched a film and was so transported into the world the director created (I think only "Mulholland Drive" has done this for me in recent years) and yet was so aware of the artistic nature of it all. I don't think I've ever sat through a film before and thought during so many scenes "this is one for the ages." My personal favorite scenes are the shot of the snow covered street running through a bombed out post-apocalyptic Warsaw and the eerily poetic shot of the German officer standing by the car on that very street at night underneath the full moon while the sounds of the piano playing from a bombed out building break the serene silence.
The seamless editing and style of direction are purely European old school, and work wonderfully to keep the viewer entranced and spellbound by the state of Poland during WWII and the state of man's soul during times of tribulation. Polanski, working possibly from his own memories of his childhood in Poland during the Holocaust as well as by the actual accounts of his protagonist, gives this powerful tale its heart through the details (i.e. the family sharing the caramel while waiting to be taken away to the death camps). I can imagine sitting through this film a dozen times and still not catching everything. Half of the time I wasn't even sure what some of the details meant (like when he was playing piano at the ghetto club and one of the patrons asked him to stop playing so he could hear the sounds some coins made when he flipped them on the tabletop). Polanski clearly respects his audience as well as his characters and story. Sometimes we have to figure it out for ourselves what was the purpose of a certain scene or certain piece of dialogue (like when the German officer remarks that Szpilman, which only people with knowledge of foreign languages would know means "player," is a very appropriate name for a pianist). It's this kind of attention to detail and respect for characters, setting, and audience alike that separate the good films from the great ones, and the movies from the works of art. This is a great work of art, and one of the greatest films of all time.