And it's true, as Robert Gliński's feature films include a sci-fi film Superwizja / Super Vision, a comedy Kochaj i rób co Chcesz / Love Me and Do Whatever You Want, and the drama Cześć Tereska / Hi, Tereska. The director's dilemmas are best illustrated by his 1988 film-about-film comedy Łabędzi Śpiew / Swan Song which won a Silver Lion in Gdynia. The protagonist, a scriptwriter, does not know what film genre to focus on. He sees the same story as a musical, then a love story, then a dark drama. At the root of his creative pain lies the choice: should he make money on films and enjoy the recognition of a broad audience or, not caring about money, listen only to his heart? Gliński must have asked himself those questions. His ambitious debut Niedzielne Igraszki / Sunday Pranks produced in 1983 by the 'cinema engagé' Karol Irzykowski Studio, was not released for several years. The plot is set in a yard among tenement buildings where we observe children playing the day after Stalin's death. The leader of their games is fat Józek who pretends to be a delegate 'to the funeral'. Lending credence to his role with his father's medals, the generalissimo's namesake starts dealing the cards in the game.
He commands: 'Forward march', instigates conflicts, devises schemes. The striking power of these 'pranks' is deadly - a girl hounded by the children dies at their hands, buried alive in the sand. His Niedzielne Igraszki / Sunday Pranks won international recognition. New York's Museum of Modern Art chose it for its New Directors/New Films series. Janet Maslin of The New York Times was charmed by the black-and-white cinematography (the picture was shot on East German high contrast film), but also pointed out that the plot was predictable because, for instance, from the moment the children take in the stray cat, it's clear the animal's hours are numbered ('Totalitarianism, Indoors and Out', New York Times, March 13, 1988).
After his second short feature Rośliny Trujące / Poisonous Plants made for Polish Television in 1985 whose plot was set right after the political thaw of October 1956, Gliński seemed to have found his theme. Was this the case? Yes and no. Yes, because - as he admitted in an interview with Kwartalnik Filmowy, 'I am interested in that contact point between history and the fate of an individual'.
Gliński - rather like the scriptwriter from Łabędzi Śpiew / Swan Song - has never been consistent in his choice of film themes and styles. Insofar as Łabędzi Śpiew / Swan Song, with the ominous grin of Jan Peszek, was noticed in Gdynia, his next film Superwizja / Super Vision shot in a sci-fi film convention passed unnoticed. One reason was the derivative ideas; it is not difficult to notice similarities between the TV fanatics addicted to soothing super-vision and controlled by the secret service and, for example, the characters in Ray Bradbury's Fahrenheit 451.
The budget for his next project, Wszystko co Najważniejsze / All That Really Matters was big enough for production to make it to the Kazakh steppes, where the protagonist Ola Watowa is exiled to a state farm during World War II, not to be portrayed by seaside grass. The film starts with a newsreel from the late 1930s edited like a music video. Everyday scenes alternate with rallies and speeches by politicians whose rule will soon lead to war. The impression is that all this is happening somewhere else, not in the life of Ola Watowa, 'a happy housewife' who is suddenly thrown into the melting pot of history.
I show human fate to which we don't have to succumb blindly. We can control it, influence the way we live. The overriding imperative is faith. It doesn't matter what you believe in - love, God, salvation. Without faith we can never win against fate.
Robert Gliński spoke these words in the context of his later film Wróżby Kumaka / Unkenrufe / The Call of the Toad, but they can also be applied to other films (Tygodnik Powszechny, November 15, 2004).
Following the sinusoidal principle, after Wszystko co Najważniejsze / All That Really Matters came a drama and a comedy. The director called the drama, Matka Swojej Matki / Mother of Her Own Mother (1996), 'a story about stealing feelings'. The critics were less subtle. Jacek Szczerba in his report from Gdynia, beginning with the words 'it was the worst festival in years' wrote,
The triangle of daughter, adoptive mother, and biological mother is awkwardly put together, so to extricate themselves from the situation somehow, in the finale the filmmakers had to reach for a completely incongruous pistol which goes off like Chekhov's gun (Gazeta Wyborcza, October 23, 1996).
Things were no better for Kochaj i Rób co Chcesz / Love Me and Do Whatever You Want (1997), a comedy set in provincial Poland among Disco Polo musicians and fans. The idea was interesting: to use the story of an ambitious organist who becomes a star of Disco Polo, a genre unique and native to Poland, derived from contemporary folk tunes and Italo Disco, to describe a new cultural trend that had gained millions of fans in Poland. Tadeusz Sobolewski called this film 'a fairy tale about love, career, about the opportunities opening up today to guys from the countryside' (Gazeta Wyborcza, April 27, 1998). He also, however, added 'Polish cinema cannot cope with the American dream. The myth of success turns into its own parody'.
He accused the film, he was not the only one, of 'stylistic indecision' and a lack of irony, which meant that instead of 'exposing the ubiquitous kitsch', Kochaj i Rób co Chcesz / Love Me and Do Whatever You Want practically 'advertised Disco Polo'. It is worth mentioning that the dialogues were written by Michał Arabudzki who had previously worked with Maria Zmarz-Koczanowicz on a documentary about Disco Polo entitled Bara-bara. That collaboration suggested this would be more than a trivial comedy with a love story in the background, especially since Gliński attaches great importance to realism. Benek, his latest film whose plot unfolds among former miners, is based on a script by journalistic couple Piotr and Irena Morawski, makers of a documentary TV series about Silesia, Serce z Węgla / Heart of Coal. It took him two years to prepare the documentation for a film about Katyń, meant to be his next project after Kochaj i Rób co Chcesz / Love Me and Do Whatever You Want. The idea came from producer Lew Rywin, the script was written by Cezary Harasimowicz. In spring 1999, when the first take was about to be shot, Rywin "announced we wouldn't be making the picture because Andrzej Wajda was planning to make a film about Katyn", reported Robert Gliński.
Gliński did not abandon the topic. News came in July 2002 that he would finally make his feature, this time under the title Sanatorium Gorkiego / Gorky Sanatorium and based on a script by Dżamila Ankiewicz-Nowowiejska.
Gliński's determination stood him in good stead when he was making his most famous and definitely his best film, Cześć Tereska / Hi, Tereska (2001): Jacek Wyszomirski's script was rejected by eight producers. Consequently, the crew, many of them first-timers, worked for free for a while, shooting one scene a week, and the director personally drove the actresses home afterwards.
Of course this was tiring as hell, because instead of focusing on the film I was playing chauffeur. On the other hand, this kind of improvisation and such slapdash conditions resulted in something unique, in purity, spontaneity, truth - and you can see that in this film. There's the notion of 'low budget', while I invented the concept of 'no budget' for our project. (stopklata.pl)
The production ordeal was resolved with an injection of funds from Polish Television TVP. The director's humility towards reality paid off the best in Cześć Tereska / Hi, Tereska. The black-and-white cinematography, (there was no money for working out the details of the set in colour) which actually fitted in very well with the film's raw style, was shot at a Warsaw tower-block housing estate in Ostrobramska Street, where the cameraman, Petro Aleksowski, used a long lens to film many scenes. For example, a tramp patiently struggling against the wind which kept overturning the empty can he was trying to crush. The parts of the tower-blocks' young residents were played by youngsters from similar estates, while the main characters were portrayed by girls from a juvenile reform school. The dialogue was largely improvised.
Gliński has said that the subject matter of the film was especially close to his heart:
It bothered me why children became killers. We're used to crimes being committed for money, out of love, jealousy, ideology. But children kill for no reason. If we dig deeper, of course we will find reasons. (Gazeta Wyborcza, Kraków section, September 28, 2001).
Interestingly, when Gliński's drama was being released, Polish cinemas were screening Quo Vadis and Wiedźmin / The Hexer, which had huge budgets by Polish standards, and the warm French film Amelia. The story of Tereska, the teenage Polish 'murderess with no motive', gave rise to a lot of emotion. Apart from enthusiasm, words of doubt were voiced 'Isn't the world of big-city tower blocks painted too darkly?' asked Jacek Szczerba in Gazeta Wyborcza, September 28, 2001.
Aleksandra Gietner, who played the leading role and whose subsequent conflicts with the law were eagerly covered by the press, had her own opinion: 'Real life is even worse than what you see on screen'. (Polityka, January 26, 2002).
After this success, Gliński's filmmaking career came to a halt for four years, not counting two television films. When he does take on a new production, he maintains a modest outlook.