Perhaps because he generally works in a direct, naturalistic style and in a variety of genres, Roman Polanski could quite possibly be the most underrated filmmaker working today—which makes a film like “The Pianist” all the more startling. It’s unexpected filmmaking, a complex yet measured account of Jewish life in wartime Warsaw, both in the ghetto and outside of it, filmed, as always, in Polanski’s clean, simple style with beautiful camerawork (by Pawel Edelman) and evocative lighting. Though it may appear cold and methodical, Polanski’s passion is subversively striking. Based on pianist Wladyslaw Szpilman’s memoir (unread by this reviewer) and adapted in an admirably economical fashion by Ronald Harwood, his story probably serves as a counterpoint to Polanski’s own: the end titles reveal Szpilman remained in Poland until his death in 2000 whereas Polanski has essentially exiled himself from his native land and there’s a sense of wistfulness in his recreation of the time; Warsaw is displayed as a peaceful urban center disrupted only by the advent of Nazism and, with one notable exception, the Poles are depicted as concerned citizens given to either helping or at least ignoring the Jews. Although it’s as brutal to watch as “Schindler’s List” (there are some short images that are truly troubling) the comparisons are not quite apt: whereas “Schindler’s List” concerned itself with the Holocaust as a topic in and of itself, “The Pianist” seems intrigued not only with that subject but also with art’s critical importance in a crisis society: not only is it a savior in troubled times but it’s the bridge that bonds victim and barbarian; Polanski seems intent on providing a no-fuss definition of art that can have meaning to any audience. Adrien Brody plays the title role, subtly moving from cocksure artist to emaciated blank canvas for the director to project his fears and wonders. Absolutely outstanding, the work of a true cinematic genius.
