A scene from In Darkness A steely moral complexity marks the work of Agnieszka Holland, whose new film In Darkness is set in the sewers of Nazi-era Lvov. George Robinson Special to the Jewish News W hen you ask Agnieszka Holland about the historical tensions between Jews and Catholics in her native Poland, she doesn't have far to look for a reply. Only as far as her mirror. Holland, the award-winning director whose superb new film In Darkness opens Friday, March 16, at the Maple Theater in Bloomfield Township, was born in Warsaw in 1948, the daughter of two journalists, a Catholic mother and a Jewish father. Her parents raised her with no religion. Her mother fought in the 1944 Warsaw Uprising and aided Jewish underground members. Her father escaped from Poland to the Soviet Union when Nazis invaded; his parents were murdered on the streets of the Warsaw Ghetto. When her father returned to Poland after the war, he was arrested by the new Communist govern- ment. But his name, distinctly Jewish in Poland, became both a burden and a badge worn with pride to the youngest Holland. At 6, she was taunted on the play- ground at school. Her mother explained her father's background and urged her to be proud of being a Jew. When she applied to film school in Poland, she was rejected, apparently because of her Jewish surname. It comes as no surprise, then, that Holland's films are almost always focused on divided personalities, people caught between conflicting imperatives. Those conflicts are, for her, invariably the prod- uct of the turbulent history of Poland, the complicated relationship of its Jewish and Catholic inhabitants, and the brutal his- tory of its relationship with its bullying neighbors from Russia and Germany. Holland brings a different perspec- tive to the subject of the Shoah, one that has given her three films on the subject (Angry Harvest; Europa, Europa; and In Darkness), a moral complexity and a steely intensity that most other films on the sub- ject lack. Asked about the complicated morality of her characters, Holland merely replies, "People are like that?' She explains that Socha, the Polish pro- tagonist din Darkness played by Robert Wieckiewicz, was a sewer worker who helped Jews hiding under the liquidated ghetto of Lvov. But earlier in his life he "had been in prison three times, had robbed a bank." He had committed him- self to going straight after he got married, but the film opens with him robbing a house so the commitment obviously isn't a strong one. "It tells you a lot about him, who he is and what motivates •him," Holland says of the opening sequence. "Look, it's very difficult to show pure good. It's easy to make the victims faceless and saintly, and everyone loves children, but the result is sentimental and kitschy. You deprive them of real life:' Holland's characters, by contrast, have the sweaty, dirty complications of reality. Solomon Perel, the real-life protagonist of Europa, Europa becomes so good at passing for German that he ends up in the Hitler Youth with disturbingly little discomfort. The Polish rescuers in both Angry Harvest and In Darkness are both initially moti- vated by cash consider- ations, and only Socha finally redeems himself by discovering altruism. "The truth is better than a beautiful lie Holland says. "I don't believe in stories that are sentimental?' In Darkness, which was the Polish selection for this year's Best Foreign Language Film award at the Oscars (it lost out to Iran's A Separation as did Israel's Footnote), is deeply felt but never senti- mental. As befits its setting in the sewers of Lvov, the film is redolent of the basic bio- logical facts of life — food, sex, death — with no sugar-coating. The Jewish char- acters are desperately hungry, and when they eat, they do so with abandon. Both Socha and some of his Jewish charges are frequently consumed with lust, often at inconvenient times. The dead are treated without formal- ity or dignity, with the result that the one time in the film we hear the mourners' Kaddish it carries an extra-powerful wal- lop. The film derives most of its extraor- dinary force from Holland's brilliant manipulation of the claustrophobic sets and clammy darkness with which they are depicted. As Holland proudly proclaims, "Eighty percent of the film is shot in darkness?' That choice created some obvious tech- nical challenges for Holland and her direc- tor of photography, Jolanta Dylewska. "Normally, you would light the sewer scenes with big lights in the background, but you end up with something that looks spacious and beautiful like the sewer scenes in The Third Mae she says. "I didn't want that. I wanted real dark- ness. I didn't want to create the darkness in post-production, in the lab [processing the film]. I wanted the to experi- ence the reality. So it became a question of how to make it dark but still have it pos- sible to follow the action?' The film was shot with the by-now- famous RED camera, "which is very sensi- tive Holland says, and a lot of the light within the frame "came from the actors!' The sewer workers, logically enough, carry large flashlights that provide a significant amount of the film's illumination in the sewer sequences. Holland's use of such unstable, transi- tory lighting turns a potential liability into an expressive strength. In Darkness quick- ly becomes a film about the literal inabil- ity of her characters to see one another, a perfect metaphor for their atomized emotional states, and the sheer difficulty of perceiving another person's needs when survival itself is at stake. Holland adds that the pervasive dark- ness also has a significant effect on the audience. "It makes people really have to pay attention to the screen:' she says with obvious satisfaction. "In the first week the film played in Poland, to my surprise the theaters were full. But people were coming out with their buckets of popcorn untouched — they were that riveted by the film?' Holland is understandably concerned that people come away from In Darkness with more than stale popcorn. "I think that people like Claude Lanzmann, who argue that it's wrong to make fiction films about the Holocaust, are partly right:' she says. "But we need to share with those who never experienced this history; we need to convey the heart of this experience. For that, fiction is probably more efficient. It goes through the heart to the mind. "Even the effect of a kitschy television series like Holocaust — it changed the vision of Americans and Germans on this subject. Perhaps for educational purposes, even embellishment is better than com- plete silence:' ❑ Director Agnieszka Holland, right, on the set of In Darkness: "I don't believe in stories that are sentimental." In Darkness opens Friday, March 16, at the Maple Theater, 4135 W. Maple Road, Bloomfield Township. (248) 750-1030; www.themapletheater.com . March 15 • 2012 49