There is really no reason to be surprised. The film is reaching Bolesławiec more than two months after its premiere. Anyone who really wanted to see it while it was current could have done so long ago—a trip to Wrocław or simply the Internet. Anyone who likes watching films while people are talking about them, in order to compare their own experience with what is being discussed on television or written about in newspapers, would have made an even greater effort to see the film earlier. I will overlook the fact that cinema is simply too expensive for many people, and that paying for a product that is already somewhat out of date makes one think twice about spending those several złoty.
Of course, “The Dark House” is a good film, and its being out of date does not mean that it became so outdated within barely two months that it can no longer be watched. I mean rather that cinema is subject to market forces—people eagerly buy what is fresh and fashionable, what is being talked about. Meanwhile, a great deal of time has already passed since the Polish Feature Film Festival in Gdynia, where “The Dark House” received a nomination for the Golden Lions as well as three important awards—for direction, screenplay (both awarded to Wojciech Smarzowski!) and editing—and the Polish Feature Film Festival is, after all, an excellent measure of what is happening in Polish cinema and what is worth going to see! You will no longer find posters advertising the film, hear discussions about it on television or radio, or read reviews in the current press. “The Dark House” is arriving in Bolesławiec decidedly too late for us not to feel that we are being served reheated food. As far as film distribution is concerned, distributors are not interested in Bolesławiec or other small towns on the map of Poland—there are too few viewers for it to be worth taking any special interest in them. Andrzej Bursa was not the only one who “didn’t give a damn about small towns.”
Returning, however, to the film itself—if any of you are, like me, constantly impressed by “The Wedding” (of course, the one directed by Wojciech Smarzowski), you should see “The Dark House” as well. If “The Wedding” irritated you, you should still see “The Dark House.” The two films have a great deal in common: they evoke conflicting emotions and are unreservedly a mirror of our Polish flaws. Yet they are different enough that one quickly forgets the urge to compare them.
“The Dark House”—in my opinion, entirely unjustly—was compared with Tarantino’s films (Stopklatka) and called the Polish “Fargo” (onet.pl). Nevertheless, the trailer’s creators cited these, to put it mildly, flattering comparisons. Where did the authors of the reviews get these ideas? The film begins fairly cheerfully, with the main character, Edward Środoń (played by Arkadiusz Jakubik), telling the story of his life so far. We quickly realize that he is a man who managed quite well under the previous system: a zootechnician and employee of a state agricultural farm, with a decent salary and opportunities to make money on the side, and with a beautiful wife. Those were the days. At a certain point, however, Środoń’s wife suddenly dies. He begins drinking and loses his job. At the last moment, though, he manages to pull himself together—he finds work far from home, at another farm. With a small amount of belongings in a little suitcase, he sets off to begin a new life. There, by chance, he spends the night with a married couple (Marian Dziędziel and Kinga Preis) living near the state agricultural farm. The hosts, at least initially, prove very hospitable. There is mud around the house, the inside is shabby, the husband likes to drink and hit his wife, yet nothing alarms the protagonist—that was simply how people lived then. Środoń returns to the house in winter with the militia. His head is shaved, and he is handcuffed. It is a crime-scene reconstruction, and Środoń is a suspect. At first, we do not know why. Through flashbacks—memories of the protagonist—we learn what happened on that fateful night. Thanks to the returns to the present, that is, to the reconstruction itself, we soon realize that the militiamen and the prosecutor are not necessarily interested in actually reconstructing the events in which Środoń took part. The protagonist becomes entangled in a much more serious affair involving local dignitaries, a priest and the militia. “The truth? There is no such thing.” The multitude of storylines, surprising twists, and a touch of comedy and grotesque do not, however, turn this film into something resembling the work of Tarantino or the Coen brothers. In their films, evil is placed in quotation marks; in Smarzowski’s film, it appears in its pure form. Środoń and Lieutenant Mróz (Bartłomiej Topa) are among the most tragic figures in Polish cinema!
There are many reasons to see the film. First, Smarzowski certainly has a talent for working with actors—once again, he convinced me of the immense talent of Kinga Preis and Marian Dziędziel. Anyone who thinks Bartłomiej Topa is suited only to playing Zenek from “Złotopolscy” should see him in both “The Dark House” and “The Wedding.” The same applies to Arkadiusz Jakubik, whose rather jovial appearance contrasts with his brilliant role in “The Dark House”—the actor managed to create a multidimensional character who arouses many conflicting emotions in viewers: compassion, dislike, sympathy… Second, the film has a truly excellent screenplay, without unnecessary scenes or superfluous dialogue. Instead, it demonstrates an ability to build tension and make the viewer believe that all of this could really have happened. Third, “The Dark House” does not leave the viewer indifferent. It irritates because the Poland shown in it once again is not the Poland we would wish for (this time, however, the film does not concern the present day, so we somehow manage to come to terms with it). It terrifies like a thriller, but also because we can imagine that it would not be difficult to become a Środoń—a regular man with a few minor sins on his conscience, but surely not such a bad person. It embarrasses us (oh, how rustic and backward Poland can be). It amuses us, but, as in Gogol, we laugh at ourselves, which once again leads us to irritation.
I will say only this: if you have not seen “The Dark House,” I think it is worth going to the cinema!
Katarzyna Boćkowska