THREE COLORS: WHITE (1994) - 11/22/2024
A blank slate
The second film of Kieślowski’s trilogy, Three Colors: White, deals with the concept of equality, especially in a post-Cold War Europe. In this film we follow Karol Karol (Zbigniew Zamachowski), a Polish transplant living in Paris, whose life starts to spiral out of control after his wife Dominique (Julie Delpy) files for divorce in the opening scenes1. After the initial trial, Karol’s life truly unfurls, having his accounts frozen, passport seized, and his soon-to-be ex-wife calling the cops on him for burning down her shop (something she did right in front of his face). So, he must make his way back to Poland in some inconceivable way and begin again.
As with Blue, Kieślowski examines a different aspect of the general concept of equality while using white as a constant motif in color. However, whereas Blue is a more expressive and interpretative film (re: artsy), White is more straightforward in its presentation and less about examining what white feels like as a color, rather the film is more interested in how white presents itself as a blank slate. What I mean by that is in Blue, form is constantly matching the content - what we see visually is mimicking what we are supposed to be understanding and following emotionally in the storyline. When despair befalls Julie, filters of blue drape over the screen to allure the viewer into a more depressive state. The same is not true for White.
In White, an abundance of the color white comes more from the daylight that lights the film. This, in turn, puts the viewer more at ease, feeling as if everything is happening in a natural setting, although everything that is happening is far from an everyday occurrence. As previously stated, we begin seeing Karol running late to his court ordered appearance in Paris for his divorce hearing, which he did not initiate. Being blindsided by this wife, he feels as if he is being treated unfairly in the courts because he is a Polish immigrant. This film of course takes place right after the fall of the Eastern Bloc, a time in which most of the eastern European countries that were freed from the CCCP stranglehold were clamoring to get into the EU and catch up to their western European counterparts: economically, politically, and culturally. This alone gave way for plenty of discrimination, something that Kieślowski felt in his own life when he migrated from his own home in Warsaw to a new home in Paris2. Obviously, these are extraordinary circumstances (blindsided divorce, being broke) on top of extraordinary circumstances (navigating a new Europe).
As we move from Paris, a place where Karol felt as though he was not treated fairly, to Warsaw, he falls into a bunch of mishaps. As previously stated, he loses everything in Paris in a comically tragic way. Without a passport and only two francs to his name, he befriends a fellow Polish transplant Mikołaj (Janusz Gajos) who he convinces to pack him in his own suitcase and fly him back to Warsaw now that the police are after him. When Karol first interacts with his homeland, it is by the airport baggage handlers who steal his luggage he is still inside and dump him out, hoping that this massively large suitcase would have contents they could split “equally” five ways, between the four of them. Needless to say, they are shocked when all they see is a man and his white bust that he purchased back in Paris that he fell in love with and spent the last of his money on. What’s funny is that Karol never realizes he is home until he comes to and sees where he is: a snow covered landfill to which, he proclaims, “I am home”.
That realization is funny on a variety of levels. First is that somehow, he recognized this literal trash heap as home. Why he does is never explained, but it is also a detriment to his belief in the state of Poland, that it is absolute trash, yet it is his trash. But what this shitty place covered in a fresh layer of snow truly represents is a fresh start. In colorful Paris, he had a lot and was in one of the pinnacles of society, yet he was constantly considered an outcast in a world that was not his own. Now, back in Warsaw, he can start anew.
Throughout the film we are constantly reminded of how this Warsaw is vastly different from the past in various quips that proclaim Poland’s independence - none funnier than when he limps back home to his brother’s salon and notices that he got a neon sign3, to which his brother replies “Didn’t you hear? It’s a new Europe. You should have seen it at Christmas.” Everything is pointing to this being a fresh sheet of paper for Karol with no marks. Everywhere he looks, be it the plain and drab buildings of Warsaw, the snow on the ground, or the new verve of economic empowerment, he can begin again. He can shake off his past and impotence - the inciting reason Dominique broke off their marriage - and regain his manhood and power in this familiar but new world.
It’s funny how quickly Karol begins to start grasping onto this idea of American capitalism, given that this man has only known Poland under communist rule, yet seeing how blatantly unjust the world is in both personal experience and how shiesty schemes seem to prevail, he begins his own journey to start from the bottom, albeit legally without crime. As a bodyguard for some other questionable boss in the area, he overhears him on a trip, pretending to be asleep, about buying a bunch of farm land outside of the city to develop for all of the new industry that will start to blossom in this new Europe. From there, he squanders up enough cash to buy the land out from under these men and then sell it back to them for nearly ten times what he paid. He then uses this capital to start his own business that seems to be an amalgamation of shipping and hoarding, thus controlling and benefitting from supply and demand.
Although he began again and made something for himself, Karol still has a grip on the past - both with the last two piece franc he had from his final call with Dominique (who made him listen to her while she was getting laid from an immediate new suitor) and the white bust he pieced back together after the baggage handlers shattered it alongside Karol in the garbage dump. He cannot seemingly let go of the past, reminiscing about the happiness of his wedding day4. But just like the trinkets he still holds onto, he cannot and has not forgotten about Dominique, no matter how hard he tries.
Seemingly, Karol has given up and all of the success will never really parlay into happiness if he cannot have Dominique. Therefore, he rewrites his estate to be given to her and we begin to believe he will end his life. However, his decision is not that and instead a multi-layered plan to fully get back at her by faking his death, which, after he reveals himself to her back at the hotel room Dominique checked in at, is consummated in the way he never fully could during his marriage5.
This just goes to show that equality is not only presented in this film by an examination of the new political climates and the falsities of the inherent “goodness” of capitalism and how it can make anyone, but that equality is also found in revenge. I would be remiss to say that in 2024 this plays differently for sure. Of course 1993 Poland is not 2024 America post election, but the idea of feeling sympathetic for a softer guy “manning up” to get revenge on a woman who broke his heart is a little hard to cope with. Again, different times, different political climates, and I’m very positive that Kieślowski was not a “meninist”, but it for sure sits differently. However if you take it more as a satirical factor, as Dominique seemingly does by her recognition from her jail cell, then it becomes more palatable for a different generation. At the end of the day, this film posits that maybe what we believe as true equality doesn’t exist, and can only be attained through the swindling of so many others.
I wanted to take one final moment to talk about the interconnectedness of both Blue and White, the first and second films in this series. All three films in this trilogy were shot in succession and released one year apart. Blue premiered at Venice which it won, with White following after and premiering at Berlin, where it also won the Golden and Silver Bears (Best Film and Best Director) at the competition. That made Kieślowski win two of the big three international film awards in consecutive years. That alone is just an interesting fact. Aside from that though, all three of these films live within the same universe, and as I pointed out earlier, proves there is some overlap. But while these two films examine different ideas in very different ways, they really do both hinge on this idea of letting go of the past.
The physical manifestation is an interesting one, both in Julie’s plan to get rid of everything yet keeps a lasting token from her daughter’s room and Karol wanting to do the same but still holding onto the past. In Julie’s case, this restart was the only way of chasing true independence and liberty, yet she realized that she never can run away, and true freedom is through, not erasure. Karol’s idea of equality is essentially the same: he must start over from scratch to prove to the past it doesn’t matter to him. Yet, both are proven wrong, because memory has a powerful hold on our psyche, and we are never truly able to let go. But when they both accept this it manifests in different ways: Julie’s in a positive piece of lasting art meant to represent a unity of a new Europe6 and Karol’s in a destructive force against another human from a very different world than he. Of course, this could be seen as an indictment on the sex’s, seeing as how Blue follows a grieving woman, and White follows a vengeful man7, but it is wildly interesting to watch to very similar concepts blossom in very separate directions.
In this opening sequence, we see Karol during the court proceedings which happen to be the same ones that Julie walked in on in the first film of the trilogy, Blue. In Blue, we see her spying on her husband’s mistress, in White we see her faintly in the background.
A point that has been argued is that a potential reason Karol Karol has the same initials as the director is because he plays a sort of avatar.
The neon sign is also an incredible representation of new, bright color being brought into this dreary, old world.
This memory is drenched in a virginal white light with the promise of something new.
This climax of the plan is capped off with a literal climax from Julie in which the screen flashes white - this can be seen as metaphoric, but also literal given the context. To each their own.
The concert is the only thing that really hints at any sign of this being post-Berlin Wall in Blue while it is seen and heard everywhere in White. Another way that Kieślowski shows the two very different thought processes between these very different cultures.
These two can also be seen as the embodiment of the two cities Kieślowski has called home.