Katyn is one of those place names, like Auschwitz or the Somme, the very mention of which calls forth images of death. Not just the deaths of individuals, terrible as that is in itself, but also the death, the willful ravishing of the human spirit, in the victims as well as the perpetrators.
The title of the film refers to the 1940 Katyn massacre in which an estimated 22,000 Polish prisoners of war were executed by Soviet troops. A concerted Soviet propaganda campaign was subsequently launched to place the blame for the massacre on the defeated Nazi regime, a campaign that, especially in its use of willing or unwilling collaborators, heaped insult on injury.
This is hardly new territory for Wajda, who has made many highly acclaimed feature films exploring Poland’s history, especially the depredations of the Soviets. Katyn cleaned up at the Polish Film Awards last year, and though the film’s appeal my not be quite so apparent outside Poland, it has also been nominated for Best Foreign Language Film at this year’s Oscars. The first hurdle to Katyn is that considerable knowledge of the complex political maneuvering behind Soviet-German relations during the early 1940s is crucial in appreciating the complexity of the enormous tapestry that Wajda weaves in Katyn.
The film juggles a number of story lines. It follows the gradual progress of the Polish officers toward their final destruction and the slow realization that the standards of war they had been taught no longer applied in this new and horrific conflict. It also follows the families left behind, who first hope, then grieve, then revolt against the imposition of lies they are forced to swallow. Wajda presents Poland, with its high intellectual traditions and strong middle-class values, as caught between two messianic regimes that want to recreate the world in their own images.
In the very first scene, we see that Wajda is setting Katyn up as a Greek tragedy on a grand scale. Anna (Maja Ostaszewska), the wife of an army officer, flees the Germans only to run into friends coming the other way, fleeing the Soviets. Which way to run? Poland is caught between the hammer and the anvil. Anna’s husband Andrzej (Artur Zmijewski), has a chance to sneak away in the chaos as Polish troops are corralled by the Soviets, but refuses to leave his regiment in the belief that as POWs, he and his troops will be dealt with according to recognized rules of war. His gradual realization that these rules have long since been thrown out the window is heartrending to witness.
And so the film progresses through its 118 minutes, and it is a marvel that Wajda is able to condense so much into such a sort time. In Hollywood, nothing less than three hours would suffice for such an epic, but Wajda is a master storyteller, conveying enormous complexities in three or four lines of dialogue. The emphasis of Katyn is political rather than personal, or, more correctly, its focus is the psychological and emotional impact that politics can have on ordinary people. Anna and Andrzej are both a kind of Polish everyman rather than deeply drawn characters, but they are convincing enough to elicit sympathy at their horrendous plight. Lieutenant Jerzy (Andrzej Chyra), Andrzej’s friend and comrade in arms, is a good man who toes the Soviet line in order to live, but shoots himself when he realizes that his actions have lost him everything he values. The characters are sketched with conviction, but you are left in no doubt that the protagonist throughout is Wajda’s beloved Poland.
And for the Polish officers held by the Soviets, Wajda lingers over the terrible images of carnage as man after man is taken from a Black Maria and shot in the back of the head. Some are stoical, others call on Jesus, others are merely bewildered, husbands, fathers, sons, dispatched with a terrifyingly dispassionate efficiency over a scene that runs for more than 10 minutes. This is the final exclamation point on which the film ends, and the harrowing injustice that such an action should have taken place stays with the viewer long after one leaves the theater. And, Wajda seems to say, this is only the beginning, for on top of the bodies lie a mountain of lies, and these lies will breed further injustice and more violent death.
May 18 to May 24 Pastor Yang Hsu’s (楊煦) congregation was shocked upon seeing the land he chose to build his orphanage. It was surrounded by mountains on three sides, and the only way to access it was to cross a river by foot. The soil was poor due to runoff, and large rocks strewn across the plot prevented much from growing. In addition, there was no running water or electricity. But it was all Yang could afford. He and his Indigenous Atayal wife Lin Feng-ying (林鳳英) had already been caring for 24 orphans in their home, and they were in
On May 2, Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) Chairman Eric Chu (朱立倫), at a meeting in support of Taipei city councilors at party headquarters, compared President William Lai (賴清德) to Hitler. Chu claimed that unlike any other democracy worldwide in history, no other leader was rooting out opposing parties like Lai and the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP). That his statements are wildly inaccurate was not the point. It was a rallying cry, not a history lesson. This was intentional to provoke the international diplomatic community into a response, which was promptly provided. Both the German and Israeli offices issued statements on Facebook
President William Lai (賴清德) yesterday delivered an address marking the first anniversary of his presidency. In the speech, Lai affirmed Taiwan’s global role in technology, trade and security. He announced economic and national security initiatives, and emphasized democratic values and cross-party cooperation. The following is the full text of his speech: Yesterday, outside of Beida Elementary School in New Taipei City’s Sanxia District (三峽), there was a major traffic accident that, sadly, claimed several lives and resulted in multiple injuries. The Executive Yuan immediately formed a task force, and last night I personally visited the victims in hospital. Central government agencies and the
Australia’s ABC last week published a piece on the recall campaign. The article emphasized the divisions in Taiwanese society and blamed the recall for worsening them. It quotes a supporter of the Taiwan People’s Party (TPP) as saying “I’m 43 years old, born and raised here, and I’ve never seen the country this divided in my entire life.” Apparently, as an adult, she slept through the post-election violence in 2000 and 2004 by the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT), the veiled coup threats by the military when Chen Shui-bian (陳水扁) became president, the 2006 Red Shirt protests against him ginned up by
RSS