Pasikowski's Powerful Aftermath

I was stunned, shocked, horrified and moved both to anger and tears by Wladyslaw Pasikowski's powerful 2012 movie, Aftermath. Even though Pasikowski was inspired to make this fictional film born of shame by the Jedwabne Massacre of 1941, it's difficult to review without giving away what makes it so powerful, but I'll try.

After twenty years in America, Roman Catholic Pole, Franciszek (Franek) Kalina returns to his family farm outside of his native village in Poland to visit his younger brother Józef , and hopefully discover why  Józef's wife left him, taking their children. There is an instant animosity from Josef who cannot forgive his brother for abandoning the family, and not returning after their father's death, leaving  Józef and his mother to farm the land, nor for returning after their mother's.  

Franek can't help but question why  Józef is so horribly treated by the villagers, and regardless of their heritage there, regarded as an outsider. Without provocation, Franek's curiosity increases after  Józef is beaten by a gang in a tavern, denied by his bank despite having the collateral, and he is compelled to find out why.  It turns out, Josef is compelled by something, too. His discovery of hundreds of Jewish tombstones used by the Nazis as paving stones for a now unused road has horrified him.  The cause of his shunning is owing to his active reclaiming of the grave markers, setting them on display in part of his field.  He cleans each stone of the years of muck and decay, as well as teaching himself to read Hebrew and to understand the words inscribed on these sacred stones.  Even though a lifelong Catholic,  Józef is called a Jew, as though it was the vilest of words, and is seen as a betrayer, a pariah, a Judas.

Pasikowski wrote the brothers Kalina as fairly unremarkable everymen. Neither is actually righteous or particularly virtuous, and the seemingly more sophisticated Franek is prone towards mindlessly tossing out anti-Semitic slurs, then corrected by his bumpkinish brother. Franek even questions why  Józef should care about these dead Jews, Józef answers only with, "they were human beings."

As Franek joins and assists  Józef in the reclamation, an uneasy peace develops between the estranged brothers, who are secretly blessed by the retiring local old priest for their work. His younger replacement, however, is not so keen on any of this.  Smelling something rotten at play, and prompted by the denial of the bank loan, Franek sets off to the local land registry to dig through the archives, and later seeks out whatever information he can glean from the oldest remaining villagers to uncover the truth about the village's history.  

The film is primarily carried on the backs of its principal actors, with Ireneusz Czop as Franek, and Maciej Stuhr as Józef, each inwardly seething for his own reasons, both seemingly ready to explode at any given moment. 

Even though essentially a drama, Pasikowski and his crew - cinematographer, Paweł Edelman, and editor Jarosław Kamiński - do not shrink from using camera and editing techniques more common to thriller or horror films, so that even scenes that could almost be described as bucolic have an ever mounting anxiety about them. Every scene with the townspeople,instantly recalls the classic horror movie trope of villagers as soulless monsters, at some points I found myself thinking of James Whales' 1931 Frankenstein and Lars von Trier's 1991 Jewish ghost story, Europa. 

Jan Duszyński's provides a generally unobtrusive, and appropriately atmospheric soundtrack, and in the film's quieter moments, and achieves a sort of nonspecific spiritual quality I found hauntingly beautiful. 

The film received wildly mixed reviews, and there is no doubt as to why some regarded it so poorly. Aftermath was seen as controversial, and reignited great anger, confusion and arguments about guilt regarding the Jedwabne massacre. While praised by Polish governmental and private cultural institutions, as well as by renowned film director Andrezej Wajda, Aftermath was condemned by nationalist groups, right wing publications and web sites who in their outrage damned it as harmful, mendacious, slanderous, and succeeded in getting it banned from screenings in a number of cities and towns. 

Pasikowski spent the better part of a decade trying to obtain funding to produce the film, which, being (loosely) based on Jan T. Gross' book Neighbors - an account of the Jedwabne pogrom - was seen as too controversial for most backers.    

What has fascinated me (though it shouldn't have) was the divisiveness of some Jewish critics on the worthiness of the film. While Pasikowski explained he felt it necessary, even if only in a fictional treatment based on an actual event, that reality . . . truth, must be addressed; that we cannot build a positive future without admitting the sins of the past. Despite this, a number of critics (of every stripe) have been offended by Aftermath finding its message as an obvious attempt by Pasikowski to turn Polish Catholics into martyrs and that he is guilty of equating them with the Jews who were slaughtered, one going so far as to mockingly ask, "Poor Poland, ‘what have the Jews done to you, that you have to go through so much suffering?"  Wow. 

I was moved by the review from The Times of Israel's Jordan Hoffman, the only critic I've found who both praised the film, and called Pasikowski up to interview him, asking probing questions, allowing the director to offer details into his thoughts on making it, and his feelings about his final results.

Controversies aside, Aftermath has won accolades as well as a number of prestigious awards, including the 2013 Jerusalem Film Festival's Chairman's Award and Maciej Stuh as Best Actor in the 2012 Polish Film Awards. 

Neither an easy or pretty film to watch, Aftermath has seemed to find an appreciative audience, and I'm glad to be part of it.