Born 7 July 1956, Dumała studied art conservation (specializing in stone sculpture) as well as, for two years, animation at the Graphic Art Faculty under the well-known animated film director Daniel Szczechura, both at the Warsaw Academy of Fine Arts. By the time he graduated in 1982, he had made his directing debut with the animated film Lykantropia / Lycanthropy. Presently Dumała teaches animation at the Łódź Film, Television and Theatre School as well as works as a writer. He has his prose published in instalments (the novel Ederly in the magazine Kino), and a collection of his short stories Gra w żyletki appeared in print in 2000.
Dumała boasts a number of animated film awards, including the Stanisław Wyspiański Young Artists Award in 1986, Wielki FeFe Award for ‘doing his own thing in the cinema’ at the 10th FEFE Film Festival in Warsaw in 2003 and Luna de Valencia Award for Life Achievement in 2003. He is also the winner of Grand Prix awards at the film festivals in Krakow, Mannheim, Łagów, Oberhausen and Huesca, and of prizes for his commercial work, such as title sequences for music programmes, including Gold Award of Broadcast Designers’ Association in Orlando for Charlatan, MTV logo, in 1994 and Gold Award at the 1996 Los Angeles Festival for Kafka Meets Dostoevsky.
Magician of Animation
Dorota Szwarcman calls Dumała ‘almost a cult figure nowadays’ (Wprost, 26 March 2000) and Jacek Dobrowolski (Kino 6/2002) hails him as ‘a magician of animated film for adults’. Bożena Jędrzejczak (Film 35/1993), in turns, points to an unprecedented phenomenon in Polish cinema at large:
It is not Kieślowski, Wajda or Pasikowski who are the most sought-after, loved and welcome of Polish filmmakers at almost all of the world’s festivals. It is Piotr Dumała.
What is so special about Dumała? Many film critics and essayists have tried to answer this question, and Dumała has helped them through what he has said and written about animation in general and his own work in particular. He comes across as an artist who is aware of both his art and of the objectives he sets for himself. The only thing which is missing from that image of his are references to his predecessors, the earlier great Polish animated filmmakers whose successor and, whether he likes it or not, a continuator he is. This relationship acquired a symbolic significance when Dumała played a main part in Wyspa R.O., the last work by the classic of animation, Jan Lenica.
Real Cinema
As it happens, it was Lenica who, together with Walerian Borowczyk, had named the goals of animated films – that is, the topics they can, and should, address. According to them, animation should leave behind the superficial fun of a cat running after a mouse to communicate serious, profound and sophisticated messages. In line with that, the older generation of animators addressed philosophical, satirical and social issues and focused on existential concerns and obsessions related to the civilization and atrocities of war, softening the effect with grotesque, absurd and black humour. Some, like Daniel Szczechura in his Fatamorgana, came close to surrealism.
Those goals – somewhat modified – are important for Dumała, too, who confided in interview about his film Franz Kafka to Tadeusz Sobolewski (Kino, 6/1992):
Animation has traditionally used conventional figures, looking like Bolek and Lolek – flat men without shadows or space. And when someone starts – like I do – to use shadows (all of my ‘drawn’ lights and shadows were underlined with real lights or shadows), he is said to copy feature films. ... People generally think that animation is either flat kid cartoons or esoteric avant-garde. The truth is that animation does not copy ‘the real cinema’. It is ‘the real cinema’.
Dumała believes that, like features, animated films, too, reflect real life and re-create the internal narration that goes on in the minds, imaginations or dreams of their makers. His view is essential to understanding the success of his films – and of their public reception as films about real people and real problems, even though they do not have real actors.
Some of Dumała’s films are works of a lesser weight. Made on the foundations laid by his predecessors, they include Lykantropia, his debut, and Czarny Kapturek / Little Black Riding Hood, a black humour fairy tale for grownups (although Dumała called it a ‘psychological film’ when interviewed by Krzysztof Biedrzycki, Kino 16/1986). Here belong also his sketches from the series Nerwowe życie, the film Latające włosy / Flying Hair and the grotesque Wolność nogi / Freedom of the Leg, whose atmosphere is evocative of Gorejące palce by Dumała’s teacher, Daniel Szczechura.
Yet Dumała’s masterpieces – his most talked about, admired and valued animations – are, surprisingly, his psychological films which move away from the Polish animated filmmaking tradition. These include more or less faithful adaptations of literary classics as well as psychological portraits of the authors, such as Łagodna / The Gentle One after a short story by Fyodor Dostoevsky, The Trial, The Castle and The Metamorphosis, based largely on Franz Kafka’s Diaries, and a half-an-hour-plus long adaptation of Dostoevsky’ most famous novel, Crime and Punishment.
In an interview given to the documentary filmmaker Maciej Drygas, Dumała said: