Historical drama elicits emotion

By Nicole Rodriguez

Truth be told, legendary director Roman Polanski seemed to be slipping. While recent films such as "The Ninth Gate" and "Bitter Moon" were decent, they were in no way of the same caliber as classics such as "Rosemary's Baby" and "Chinatown," which won the director both fame and critical acclaim.

It had been rumored amongst critics that Polanski's most recent film, "The Pianist," was good enough to put the seventy-nine year old director back on Hollywood's A-list, but few understood just how incredible a film it would really turn out to be. In fact, as a recent press screening drew to a close, a theater full of normally chatty critics sat in stunned silence throughout the end credits and proceeded to file out wordlessly, still digesting a film so moving it makes Steven Spielberg's "Schindler's List" look like a novice work.

The film opens to find main character Wladyslaw Szpilman (brilliantly portrayed by American actor Adrien Brody) playing Chopin on Polish radio just as the Nazi's begin their attack on Warsaw. As bombs and explosions ruin the haunting beauty of Szpilman's playing, the audience realizes quickly that any beauty we will see in the film's opening moments will be destroyed in the same heart-wrenching manner.

Soon after the bombings, Szpilman and his family learn that the British have joined the war against Germany, and with a renewed sense of hope they decide to stay in their home and fight for what is theirs. And just as the bomb demolished the radio station, the Szpilman family's hopes are demolished as they are herded into the overcrowded Warsaw ghettos and eventually slated to depart on a train bound for concentration camps.

While boarding the fateful train, Szpilman's life is spared by a member of the Jewish police who was once a fan of his music. While we now look back on Szpilman as a hero, it becomes apparent in this scene that he never considered himself so. Ripped from his father's arms and thrown into an alley with instructions to run and not be a fool, Szpilman desperately tries to claw his way back to the trains, lost at the idea of being unable to go with his family, even if it is to such a horrific slaughter. And in this moment, Brody shows us that this character is not a strong man by any means, but scared and desperate. It is by luck and circumstance alone that he has survived thus far.

Brody continues this tactic as the film progresses, portraying Szpilman as a man still unaware of the strength he is gaining with each experience he endures. He is a man who craves survival, yet is riddled with guilt at the thought of all of those who were not allowed to do so. The film continues to document Szpilman's evasion of the Nazis, exposing us to plot twists and conditions so horrific it doesn't seem imaginable that any person could survive. And knowing the film is based on a true character makes the experience that much more heart wrenching.

Based on the memoirs of the same title, "The Pianist" is the most horrifyingly honest film to ever tackle this subject matter. Perhaps it is Polanski's own experience with tragedy (he lost his parents to the Nazis, and later his wife and unborn child to the infamous Charles Manson) that inspired him to create this film in such a manner.

While there are of course the obligatory torture scenes of all Holocaust movies, Polanski decides to spend most of "The Pianist" depicting scenes of Brody by himself, haunted by the silence that surrounds him, by the memories of those he loved, and the ghosts of the piano melodies that once brought him such joy. Polanski understands that somehow this torment almost seems to hit us just as hard, if not harder, than the terror of watching Nazis gun down innocent pedestrians in sport.