Tag: Agnieszka Holland

Green Border (Zielona granica)

Posted on by victorfraga

Agnieszka Holland’s Green Border is a passionate and poignant portrayal of the plight of Asian and African refugees (particularly from Syria and Afghanistan) attempting to enter Poland via its southern border with Belarus.

The film is divided into numerous chapters: the personal stories of refugees. They include a young border guard and his family, a group of activists, and psychotherapist Julia (Maja Ostaszewska). Each one of these stories unfolds and complements each other in a clear and dramatically fulfilling way. The.emotional journeys are colossal, and genuinely moving. The characters face an ethical dilemma: should you follow your human instincts or state rules? This year’s international Oscar winner Zone of Interest (Jonathan Glazer) deals with a similar topic. a family chooses to ignore the extermination camp immediately adjacent to their home. Perhaps they are able to do so because they do not see the suffering – they only hear it. In Green Border, some people too opt to ignore the suffering of the refugees. Others put their heart and soul into helping their fellow human beings, even if that means risking their own safety and freedom.

The most spectacular change is that of Julia. At first, she tell her online patients that there is no point in getting involved in politics because they can’t change anything. After witnessing some extremely brutal incidents on the border, she decides to take matters into her own hands, and takes risks that few dare. A border guard is torn between duty and trauma. In some ways, he’s proud of what he does. Plus, he has to provide for his family. Yet he decides to lend a hand to an “illegal” refugee, allowing humanity to prevail above compliance and complicity. Meanwhile, Polish authorities welcome Ukrainian refugees with open arms. Despite the warm reception, these people too are traumatised. Green Border makes it abundantly clear that that leaving one’s home in circumstances of severe adversity is never easy, and that host nations have a moral obligation to treat asylum seekers in a humane and respectful way.

The political context is complicated. Belarusian president Alexander Lukashenko facilitated the transfer of Asian and African refugees to Belarus with a view that they could then cross the border to Poland, in the European Union. This arrangement was designed to create problems. and it was never sanctioned by the EU or even discussed with the Polish authorities. As a result, Syrian and Afghan refugees find themselves treated as illegal aliens literally thrown back into Belarus, through barbed wires fences. Some perish during their attempts to seek asylum in Poland. The situation on the border has been the subject of protests in the liberal Polish media. There have been street demonstrations against the treatment of these refugees. The suggestion has been that they are not taken in – contrary to international treaties – because they are not white, and also because most are Muslims.

Shot in black and white in documentary style, Green Border evokes familiar WW2 images. These characters are reminiscent of the resistance soldiers, hiding in the forests, chased and often murdered by the Nazis. Here, a senior border officer instructs young guards to be merciless to the non-European refugees coming through from Belarus because they aren’t human. “Don’t be taken by supposedly heart rendering stories about their children” , he explains. ” They often buy them in order to gain your sympathy, and they then will sell them on, or worse’.

This is a controversial, radical and bold movie, with a harrowing subject and also a touch of optimism. The state-controlled, conservative media accused Holland of being “anti-Polish”. The 75-year-old filmmaker is no stranger to political messages, yet Green Border goes a step further. This is a rallying call for action against injustice and racism. In other words, Green Border is an activist film. The epilogue stresses that white, blue-eyed Ukrainian refugees have been granted completely different privileges to the ones from Syria or Afghanistan .These people are victims of racial and religious discrimination.

Green Border premiered in the Official Competition of the 80th Venice Film Festival, in September 2023. It showed at the Kinoteka Film Festival in London. It’s in cinemas on Friday, June 21st.

Our dirty questions to Agnieszka Holland

Posted on by Paul Risker

Polish filmmaker Agnieszka Holland has looked to the plight of suffering in WW2 in Europa Europa (1990) and In Darkness (2011), and the struggle for liberation of the Czech people in her miniseries Burning Bush (2013). She returns to the past with her recently released film, Charlatan (2020; pictured below), based on the true story of infamous Czech healer Jan Mikolášek (Ivan Trojan), who with his uncanny knack for urinary diagnosis, won favour and fortune treating prominent Nazi and Communist figures. Falling out of favour with the current Communist regime, a show trial threatens to pry open his secrets, including the illicit love affair between he and his assistant František Palko (Juraj Loj), whose fate hangs in the balance.

In conversation with DMovies, Holland discussed the cinema of today versus her youth, the conventional dramaturgy of television, the unknown journey of a film, and accepting her work.

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Paul Risker – ‘What we are’ versus ‘who we feel we are’ can often be out of sync. I’ve spoken with directors who say that it took a number of films before they felt they could call themselves a filmmaker. Do you feel that you can call yourselves filmmakers?

Agnieszka Holland – It was a completely different time when I was deciding to become a film director, or a filmmaker. The cinema was in a different place, and I was 15 when I made the decision. It was the mid-1960s and the cinema was the most innovative, original and personal artistic medium. To be a filmmaker was to call yourself an artist – it meant that you tried to express yourself in some cinematic and artistic form. Of course, a commercial cinema existed in the United States, especially Hollywood, but there was the idea of the cinema as an accessible medium, an attractive way to express complex, poetic, emotional and intellectual content.

Today we’re in a different place, and the kind of cinema that pushed me to dream about being a filmmaker is now rare. The ambitions of personal cinema exists of course, but it became a festival niche. The mainstream in the theatrical cinema, the middle type of cinema practically disappeared, and all moved to more ambitious television. Sometimes it breaks the rules, but the majority are conventional, and it has to be to attract a global audience.

To be a filmmaker today, in the best sense means you’re a good craftsman, or you create some kind of visual art which is on the border between modern art and cinema.

PR – Did you feel you were a filmmaker once you’d made a film, or was it a feeling that gradually developed?

AH – I didn’t think about myself as a filmmaker. You become a filmmaker when you’re making films on a regular basis. I saw myself more as a director, or as I say, it’s someone that pretends to be an artist. I was thinking about expressing important things in a personal way, not making movies, but of course I was at the same time making movies. I became a filmmaker from the moment I did my first professional film.

PR – Has the experience of being on set changed, or the familiarity of the process dulled your passion?

AH – I still like the process and every time it’s new for me. When I’m doing television it becomes more of a routine because you have to keep to a stylistic frame that has already been established, or you have to establish it. Television is quick, but it’s hard when you’re doing a lot of night shoots, and it’s not final. Other people are taking over afterwards – producers and studios, networks and platforms. A television series, especially a long one has to be conventional because you have to do it in a way that by the end of every episode, the viewer would like to return. You have to establish a conventional dramaturgy.

You don’t know where the cinema will take you, whether it will come together in a decent way, or it will be a total failure, or something miraculous will happen. Cinema is a prototype, every film is different and so it’s much more of an exciting adventure, and this adventure mainly happens during the shooting. I’m alert and excited during the shoot, but of course I don’t like everything about the process. I don’t like waking up at 4am and spending 14 hours on set, never having enough time, but it’s where I feel alive.

PR – Interviewing director Jill Gervargizian, she remarked to me that the filmmaking process is about, “making a decision, believing in it and moving on.” Would you agree with this sentiment?

AH – I remember teaching 15 years ago, and counting for my students how many decisions I had to do each day on set as the director for a film I was making. I counted until I was bored, and there were 700 decisions in five hours or so. It’s about making decisions, and it can blind your clarity of judgement because very often you don’t know in your heart what’s the right and wrong decision. We have to pretend to become the leader of the herd.

It’s a very strange profession – a bit of stealing from and lying to other people, a bit of pretending, and suddenly being inspired by something you couldn’t predict. Of course, it needs the regular boring preparations, so it’s a very complicated job at the end of the day.

PR – Interviewing Larry Fessenden, he spoke of how a film is abandoned. Would you agree with this sentiment, or is a less harsh phrasing that it’s about being able to let go of the film?

AH – With some films you never know if you’ve concluded the process at the right time, if there wasn’t something more to do. Deciding that it’s over, that it’s accomplished is a mix of exterior needs: money, premiere and festival dates that have been set, and sometimes it’s also the feeling that you’re not inspired any longer about what you can change for the better.

What I enjoy, and the few times in my career I was lucky enough to have this opportunity, is to finish the film, to show it to the audience and afterwards have the opportunity to come back to the editing room. It’s often not possible because it costs money. Most of the time, even if at the premiere I wasn’t completely satisfied, when I watch the film one year on, I think, ‘Okay, it is what it is.’ The film is only finished when the audience see it and express their own judgement and emotions.

Charlatan is available on premium digital platforms.

Charlatan

Posted on by victorfraga

The latest film by the Polish direct Agnieszka Holland takes place in Czechoslovakia, the country where she studied film in the 1970s. It follows the steps of Jan Mikolášek (Ivan Trojan), a healer who used exclusively herb-based remedies in order to treat his fellow citizens, and even Germans during the occupation. Throughout his lifetime, he saw up to four million patients, including Nazi Party Chancellor Martin Borman and Czechoslovakian Prime Minister Antonín Zápotocký.

Mikolášek learnt his skills from an old female healer during his youth. At first she shunned him, but decided to give the young man a chance upon realising that he was indeed gifted. He bought a large mansion and turned it into a medical institution. He became established and wealthy. The assertive and yet kind physician identified several diseases, or at least the organ affected, simply by observing the patient’s urine. Sediments indicated an infection, flakes suggested sterility, and so on. The Nazis were impressed at his ability. After the War, he remained a much cherished member of the community, credited with saving thousands of lives. He also became a notorious philanthropist, helping children and local charities. On the other hand, Czechoslovakian authorities often questioned his methods and described him as a charlatan. His popularity, however, seemed to shield him from prosecution.

The unorthodox doctor was supported by his loyal assistant František (Jurad Loj), with whom he also maintained a romantic and a sexual relationship. All is well until one day the regime decided to challenge his status. Both Jan and František were accused of killing two government officials by providing them with medication spiked with strychnine. They have been framed, yet the two men seemed to have no idea why. What was indeed very clear is that they needed to fight very hard for their innocence, as the prosecutors had proposed the death penalty. Could the two secret lovers (at a time when homosexuality was criminalised) dodge the accusations and resume their lives as normal? And could Jan’s public notoriety work in his favour, or could it become a handicap?

This is a very conventional historical drama. The topic choice is fascinating, although it’s unclear how much is true and how much is fictionalised. There’s very little literature in English about Mikolášek, so it’s difficult to check the veracity of the events in the movie. The screenplay, penned by Marek Epstein has more holes than Swiss cheese. The narrative zigzags back and forth in time and it’s often difficult to establish what year we are in, where the actions is taking place, and who the real enemies are. The political landscape isn’t clearly contextualised, the interests of the Czechoslovakian government as blurry as some of the urine samples. Weak research? Poor screenwriting? Unsteady direction? Only the real Mikolášek could establish the diagnosis.

Charlatan premiered at the 70th Berlin International Film Festival as part of the Gala Specials section, when this piece was originally written. It’s out on BFI Player in June, 2002. Also available on other platforms.

Mr Jones

Posted on by victorfraga

Gareth Jones (James Norton) is a cool-headed journalist who travelled to the Soviet Union in the 1930s. His reputation was sealed earlier in the decade, having counted Adolf Hitler amongst his list of subjects. With his spectacles at hand, he captured the horror, the hurt and the heaviness that paraded the biggest country in the world. Jones witnesses a mass starvation unknown to the better fed in Great Britain. Following a tip and a hunch, Jones uses his connection to Prime Minister Lloyd George (Kenneth Cranham) to permit him a voyage to the Soviet land.

Norton delivers a very committed performance conveying a lot of emotion through his steely eyes. The real life Jones was admired by the similarly spirited George Orwell, and one of the film’s standout scenes shows an exchange held between Norton and the Animal Farm writer (here played by Joseph Mawle). It might not have happened in reality, but there’s no damage to this particular half truth. Instead, it does show the admiration for a man now very much forgotten by the sands of time. Norton is excellent, as is Vanessa Kirby (playing aide and confidant Ada Brooks), their paired chemistry bringing welcome humour to the icy dry backdrop.

What lets them down is the scaling, the two-hour runtime scarcely long enough to understand the ambitions, failings and arrogance the Soviet Union espoused. With the advancement of television, Mr Jones feels like it should be serialised, which would make the film’s final act (Norton gamely selling his perspective to the presses) a striking closing episode. As it stands, it sits awkwardly in a faster paced film.

Similarly, Polish director Agnieska Holland happily shows the horrors outside, but rarely inside, robbing the extraordinarily talented Norton the chance to look towards himself for all the privileges he owns. But at least the film recognises the bravery and vitality Gareth Jones held, one that should be praised in a future Bob Dylan song.

Mr Jones is in cinemas across the UK on Friday, February 7th. On VoD on Friday, February 21st,