Drei Farben - Weiß

It is not only difficult to comment separately on the three parts of Kieslowski's trilogy, it seems obvious that the filmmaker wants us to do just the opposite: view them in order, Blue, White, and Red, and consider them together as one complete work. It is true they are distinct stories with distinct themes: liberty, equality, fraternity, and each them is developed with unique applications of intrigue and artistry. They are each well worth seeing independently, but I believe they are best seen as one work. Collectively, I would rate the trilogy as a 9; separately, I place each in my top ten for the years 1993 and 1994.

White is the fabric of a bride, chaste and pure at the outset of her marriage; later it is the flash of an orgasm in the dark; and then .... But any more said of the instances of white in this film might spoil it for the first-time viewer. Unlike Three Colors: Blue, White is a more plot-oriented movie, with two main characters to Blue's one. And this is as it should be. Blue's theme of Liberty, the first word of France's motto, is an individual's principle, while White's theme of Equality, the French motto's second word, requires at least two people. The central quest for liberty is personal; the struggle for equality is fundamentally social. White is the most conventional of the three Color films, and while it is still one of my ten top films of 1994, I rate it an 8, slightly less than the highly visual Blue and the mind-bending Red.

Your pretty wife, has decided to divorce, as you're impotent and not hung like a horse, your debit card is taken, your lost, lonely, forsaken, and you're feeling rather low, full of remorse. A chance encounter gets you back to your homeland, to Poland where you hatch the perfect plan, to avenge all of the strife, from your uncaring ex-wife, and make you feel like you're actually a man.

Karol Karol goes from zero to hero as he takes his life from the depths of despair to the heights of a wealthy and successful businessman, in order to exact his cunning revenge on the wife that belittled and scorned him. A little bit daft and wholly unimaginable but mildly entertaining in a comical kind of way.

Krzysztof Kieslowski's second installment in his "Three Colors" trilogy does not quite reach the greatness of his earlier or latter work, but is still a strangely interesting viewing experience that ends up being a dominant success by its final act in spite of some shortcomings. "White" (representing equality to the French) plays more light-hearted than "Blue" or "Red". It is modern-day France and a Polish hairdresser (Zbigniew Zamachowski) and his amazingly beautiful French wife (Julie Delpy) are going through a messy divorce due to Zamachowski's inability to perform sexually. The divorce crushes Zamachowski emotionally and financially. He is forced to leave France and go back to Poland, becoming a Metro beggar that has basically lost everything. However, with a little help, Zamachowski will get back up and vow revenge on the woman that ruined his life and took his self-dignity. Sometimes revenge can be sweet, but what happens when it does not necessarily accomplish what you had hoped? "White" is a little strange to the series. Its dark humor makes it stand out in an already unique set of films. The film is not near as emotional as "Blue" or near as rough as "Red". Instead it uses heart rather than thought at times to get its story across. This is not a bad thing, but it is just an odd chapter for Kieslowski. My least favorite of the trilogy (not saying I don't still like the movie very much), "White" still creates a tone that makes it a cinematic winner. Watch for Juliette Binoche (the greatest performer of the series) in what ends up being a cameo role. 4 stars out of 5.

Krzysztof Kieslowski's second of the Three Colors trilgy' "White" (1994), is a much more simple film than its predecessor, "Blue" (1993).

We follow Karol, who is divorced from Dominique, who cruelly attempts to hurt Karol in the worst ways possobly, especially considering her still loves her deeply.

Visually, it is almost as impressive a film as "Blue", also drawing on symbolism in its visual storytelling, and the acting is brilliant - particularly Julie Delpy portraying Dominique.

In spite of an interesting plot, I did not find the film to be nearly as touching as "Blue", but rather cruel in its message and execution.

For me, definitely a weaker film than its predecessor, but holding several qualities of its own. I wouldn't recommend anyone to see this as a must-see - especially from the trilogy.

The second film in Krzysztof Kieslowski's "Blue, White & Red" trilogy, "White" (1993), is decidedly lighter in tone than its predecessor and should manage to appeal to a wider audience. In it we meet Karol Karol, a Polish hairdresser living in Paris who has just been divorced by his wife Dominique (the gorgeous Julie Delpy, who is not unfairly compared to the Brigitte Bardot of "Contempt" in this picture), due to a spell of impotence. At first blush something of a nebbish, Karol soon shows that he is nevertheless quite the resourceful character. Back in his wintry-white native land, he manages to somehow get back on his feet, rebuild his life despite numerous adversities--as had Juliette Binoche in "Blue"--and even contrive a get-even scheme involving his ex. As in the previous film, the directing and photography are just outstanding, and Zbigniew Zamachowski is at once sympathetic, funny and charismatic in "White"'s lead role. Sharp-eyed fans of "Blue" will note Ms. Binoche's Julie character in "White"'s opening courtroom scene, as well as the same old lady at the recycling bin (this latter background character would also, strangely, resurface in "Red"); just some fun elements to help tie this loosely linked trio of films together, I suppose. Despite being a bit more straightforward than the other two films in the trilogy, "White" still offers food for thought, as well as some puzzling moments. For example, viewers who will be able to interpret Delpy's hand gestures at the tail end of the picture are certainly better than me. (Then again, I've always been pretty bad at any hand pantomime more involved than a raised middle finger; guess I'd make a lousy deaf person!) Fortunately, Delpy explains these mysterious gestures for us in one of the DVD's copious extras. I'm also somewhat at a loss as to how the color white's corresponding to "equality" on the French flag pertains here. Are we supposed to think that Karol and Dominique are equals of sorts by the film's end? I suppose so. The white of the title can just as easily be regarded, though, as corresponding to the sweet and pleasing center of an Oreo cookie, in the middle of two decidedly darker segments...