The Painted Bird is based on a novel by Jerzy Kosiński that claims to be a true account of his own childhood during WWII. Except these claims were later found to be false, with the author having spent the war under protection of Polish relatives. However, I wonder why anyone would have believed his stories because his stories stink of a guess at the actual reality, rather than anything anyone has experienced. Director Václav Marhoul’s film does nothing to alleviate the material. The Painted Bird is therefore an almost three hour-long heavy-handed slugfest.
The film essentially tells the same story over and over. Our young protagonist (Petr Kotlár) comes under the wing of an older man/woman only to find out their cruelty when they abuse him in some way, thereby forcing the child to flee to a new protector and start a new story. Among these people are veterans like Udo Kier, Harvey Keitel and Stellan Skarsgård selected only I assume because of name recognition, since anybody could have played these small parts. The first thing to note about this film is it is shot in black-and-white. The director makes use of it to linger on trees, animals, lakes in a way you expect out of any slow cinema director. These shots however don’t provide any purpose to the film, unlike the much superior Ivan’s Childhood which the director is trying so hard to ape. The film could be seen as an exercise in cruelty and I have no problem with that, but there’s no point to it. It’s as if the director is whispering in your ear “look how cruel this world is, to prove it to you why don’t I show you another scene of sexual abuse” every couple of minutes. It’s also riddled with cliches. There’s the boy who is so shocked by the world around him he becomes silent. There’s the devout Christian who abuses young boys. There are the idiot villagers who believe everything the witch says. The director is so convinced he is making “an important film” he’ll constantly remind you of it. The epic length, it being a war film, the black-and-white cinematography all serve the same purpose I believe and that is why not only has it garnered acclaim and played at festivals worldwide but it was also The Czech Republic’s entry to the Oscars. As a film though, it may only be important as an example of a stereotypical art film, the type anti-intellectuals laugh at.
After the oppressive black-and-white of Bird it was a relief to be in the company of primary scheme colours of Beanpole. The film has a bright look, with the day scenes letting the sunshine in and the night scenes well lit. What it doesn’t have is a bright outlook towards life. There are a few funny and romantic scenes, but nothing that can be considered life-affirming.
The film tells the story of Iya (Viktoria Miroshnichenko) and Masha (Vasilisa Perelygina). Masha has entrusted her child to Iya back in Russia while she fights on the front line in WWII. Her husband and the child’s father is killed on the front line and Masha explains she stayed “because she wanted revenge”. Iya has her own scars from the war. She freezes up and stares at a distance for periods of time due to injuries in the war. Iya works at a hospital treating injured World War II veterans and when Masha returns she too starts to work there. But it’s not just the patients who are suffering from the aftermath of the war.
I wonder if the hectic festival environment contributed to my feeling that the film dragged in parts. Director Kantemir Balagov doesn’t explicitly reveal the nature of Iya and Masha’s relationship until late in the film. This is quite frustrating for some time, as is Masha’s dalliance with a potential suitor. Masha is a character who has no trouble demanding and doing what she wants, but there are also moments where she is unreadable. There’s a subplot involving assisted suicide that seems hastily done, as if the director was afraid of making a purely personal story and just felt the need to say something political.
And yet Beanpole is a film well worthy of your time. It has as strong a third act as any I’ve seen this week and make the the whole experience worth it. And again, those primary colours, specifically green, pop out in two remarkable scenes. And the lead actors reserve their best for the last scene. It’s excellently written and performed beautifully. As such Beanpole, while not fully convincing, is entirely admirable.
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