One of the scenes from Afterimage shows Strzemiński during one of his lectures, saying ‘Your every decision is good. Exactly because it is yours’. It seems that Wajda decided to comply with this maxim. While creating his story about Władyslaw Strzemiński, one of the most talented Polish artists of the 20th century, he decided to focus on the story of his struggle against the communist regime, which was not keen on the rebellious artist. This focus, unfortunately, means that the surface of the artist’s turbulent personal life is barely touched.
Strzemiński, as seen by Wajda, is a lone hero who does not comply with the dominating doctrine of socialist realism. For his defiance he is marginalised and made insignificant. Wajda is scrupulous in his account of the painter’s torment. He does not forget to mention Strzemiński getting laid off from his university position, losing his right to practise his profession, and the political repressions imposed on his family. Subsequent scenes are like the stations of the cross. However, detailed as it is, Strzemiński’s Calvary is not as moving as it should be.
It is not touching because it leaves out the private life of the artist. Afterimage does not tell the story about his difficult relationship with another brilliant artist, sculptor Katarzyna Kobro. That is an incredible shame, as their autobiographies suggest that it could have been the basis for a grand drama. It could, also, have been another hint to uncovering who Strzemiński really was, behind the ambiguous, fascinating shroud.
Wajda is not at all interested in this aspect, he barely touches upon it in a few uncertain scenes. Kobro is a kind of ghostly presence, a distant, painful memory, or maybe a bad conscience. Moreover, Strzemiński’s unobvious relations with his daughter (played, underwhelmingly, by Bronisława Zamachowska) are not explored in greater depth. The love story between the old, handicapped artist and his beautiful, young student (played by Zofia Wichłacz) becomes only an anecdote.
