PŁ: I’m not sure my therapist would be happy about these words. Today I know you can’t go on having such a void. It’s not a big deal to say to yourself: I know I have this void, I’m aware of that and I keep going. It is more difficult, but it might be better to look for something to fill the gap.
It is a childhood dream to get what you were once lacking. But if we give up this quest, we’ll be a child endlessly waiting for this need to be met. Sometimes therapy allows us to regain agency and break away from the trap of living in the past.
BS: It has turned into a conversation about psychotherapy…
PŁ: And I don’t really know anything about it. I can only discuss my own experiences. At least until it starts to turn into exhibitionism.
BS: Didn’t you get the feeling that the camera was penetrating the world of your female characters too deeply?
PŁ: I didn’t. Hania and Ewa turned to the therapist for help, and he guaranteed safety. I felt that Professor de Barbaro wouldn’t allow them to hurt each other or for the presence of the camera to become painful for them.
His greatest asset is the gift of careful listening and gentleness. Men in our culture often lack this. They believe that aggression is a sign of strength. Our main assets are emotions and our understanding of them.
BS: Professor de Barbaro played a double role…
PŁ: He was both a therapist and a character in the film. The way he conducted the sessions determined the structure of the film narrative. When editing the film together with the excellent editor Dorota Wardęszkiewicz, we obviously had to make cuts, but we wanted to preserve the original dramatic composition of the meetings.
Thanks to Professor de Barbaro, for the first time I had someone who, on my behalf, would not only make the central characters open up, but who also knew how to normalize the situation afterwards. Documentary filmmakers are good at eviscerating someone but often fail to bring the situation back to normal.
BS: Do you believe that cinema can have a therapeutic effect?