La doble vida de Verónica

I save films. By that I mean that some films I expect to be so precious that I want to save them for some future drought, or blue period where I need spiritual insulin. Or it may be that a valued filmmaker has died and I know there is only so much to see new and I want to pace it through my life.

Kieslowski is something of a demigod in my film world. It isn't that he has mattered so much in the sense of affecting me. Its because he can push geography with the slightest touch, infer emotional richness with the most subtle of motions, show us beauty headon — headon without artifice. His the most delicate power I know in cinema. His "Decalogue" is complex, open, engineered to be contradictory in ways that seem natural. But they are not where the real juice is. Its merely where he worked out the way to weave vision and narrative conflict with his companion and creative partner.

It's "Three Colors" where it pays off. These are miraculous and I wish them on any open soul. They will tear you gently in ways you will not notice for years, and then know all of a sudden when you meet someone.

In between "Decalogue and "Colors," we have this, essentially an adventure in moving from Polish to French vocabulary, both emotional and chromatic. Here we see some of the strokes we will encounter later, in one colored film even with the remarkable Irene. But he seems unsure here. Things aren't integrated between cinema and narrative as they were before and would be afterward. The eye doesn't inform with curious discovery, instead seems to glance around and hover.

I suppose it is because the story isn't well developed in the way that others are. The deal with Kieslowski I think (beyond the beauty) is that he is able to infer future urges that probably will loop back into places and persons we see. (He closes a very few of these ordinary loops in the third colors film). But he never closes them, not the ones that matter. So we are left with our own emotions going ahead and anticipating results that matter to us, things started and not finished, breath sent out for us to catch and breath.

This film is based on Alice in through the Lookingglass, with a number of less-than-deft fixtures to the source. He tries to build grand arcs of anticipated futures around this symmetry but they aren't fragile and supported by our wishes as we have elsewhere. I think it was simply a time of adjustment for him, and I cannot recommend this, even though I saved it for decades.

I will suggest that if you do watch it, see the same story, the same emotional effects, the same tantalizing near-closure in "Sex and Lucia" by someone less gifted with the eye, but more gifted with the mysteries of women. Watch out for the delicate tearing.

Ted's Evaluation -- 2 of 3: Has some interesting elements.

The Double Life of Veronique | 10/10

This is an incredibly haunting and poetic work that raises a plethora of questions regarding life, death, and the unexplainable connection that some people share. I was stuck in a sort of trance while watching this, as beautifully photographed scenes seemed to follow one after the other for the film's entirety.

There wasn't a moment that I had lost interest, and the questions posed throughout are some that I found myself thinking about on many different occasions as a child. Do we, perhaps even simultaneously, share the same thoughts, feel the same feelings, and take part in the same actions as another person we have never met? Is it more than instinctual for us to avoid certain things, or act in certain ways? This film spoke to these questions, but of course never answered them. It turns out, I believe, that there are no answers to begin with.

This is the fourth Kieslowski film I've seen, and most certainly the best. Visually, it shares a few things in common with the Colors Trilogy, and Irène Jacob (Veronique and Veronika) was actually the main character in Red. Her acting is extremely good in both films, and the mood she creates in this one is understated, but incredibly graceful. I should mention the music in the film as well, which in addition to being beautifully presented, plays an important role in the connection between the two women. This is one of the best films ever made, presented by a man of great vision who left us far too soon.

The above statement works not only as an honest description of the film, but also of the character (or characters) portrayed by Irène Jacob. The Double life of Véronique is not a film that allows easy description, it doesn't seem to fit in to any genre or category, it is a film that must be experienced under it's own terms, as a serious, hypnotic work of art. Director Kieslowski sets up the odd dreamlike atmosphere right from the start, using mirror reflections and odd camera distortions to show us the bizarre way that Veronique/Veronika sees the world around her. The use of sepia printing also gives the film an odd distilled look, taking us right out of any "real" reality, giving each of the frames something special. The problem this creates is that it takes away any real connection we have with the characters, we never really feel anything for them or are even that concerned for their outcomes, Kieslowski moves his actors around his "stage" in the same way the marionettes are manipulated in the film, but the film works on such a subtly hypnotic level I don't think that Kieslowski ever wanted us to feel part of this world. Kieslowski follows Veronique/Veronika through Paris and Poland, intimately probing her with close, hand-held camera, the cinema-verite effect of this making the viewer feel almost like a voyeur, following the women's every movements and encounters. The Double Life of Veronique is a film that definitely deserves to be seen and requires multiple viewings if we are to get everything out of it's complex, pre-destined narrative. A film full of beautiful images and haunting moods that you'll remember long after, if only there had been a little more focus on the characters I would certainly give it a 10. Maybe my next viewing will lift its marks. 8/10

Krzysztof Kieslowski's The Double Life of Véronique (originally titled La Double Vie de Véronique) might be the best film in the late director's accomplished oeuvre. Perhaps most lauded for his monumental Three Colors trilogy, Kieslowski first explored themes of duality, synchronicity, and fate in this cinematic reverie. Irène Jacob, also the star of Red, handles a double role as two women cut from the same metaphysical cloth -- the Polish Veronika and the French Véronique. Her presence as both women is at once whimsically childlike and sensually melancholic; relentlessly alluring, it is easy to see why she became Kieslowski's muse. Jacob is perfectly fluid in the shift between characters, an embodiment of ideal femininity, as dreamlike as the tone of the entire film.

Actor and director are symbiotic, relying on hazy, autumnal ambiance and mood for narrative, utilizing a subtle minimalist approach to dialogue. This is fine art, unlike heavy-handed Hollywood productions. The tone is consistently ambiguous -- emotionally resonant, to be sure, but beyond a vaguely somber, wistful undercurrent, the movie allows the viewer to fill the "empty space" with his or her own thoughts and feelings. It's a true testament to Kieslowski's mastery, and few films are ever so transcendentally sublime.

The lack of this masterpiece's availability on DVD is a sad affair. There are rumors of a release in 2005, but for fans of movies like Amélie hungry for something with a little more depth, The Double Life of Véronique comes most highly recommended -- even if you have to search high and low for a copy on VHS.

Only a few of the previous comments on this movie has mentioned the use of music. Just like in Trois Couleurs Bleu, the music of La Double vie de Véronique is very indivisible from the film: the visual and the auditive form a united whole and also elements of it are directly part of the story. And when it comes to music made for film, Zbigniew Preisner's powerful score for this one is as good as it gets.

When there is little dialogue, it is not just the images and expressions on Irène Jacob's face that tells the story, but also the powerful strains of music intermingled with it.

Even with just these elements in place, it would be a movie worth seeing, though obviously a narrative based in little extent on dialogue and with less emphasis on a clear-cut story than your average American movie is unfortunately lost on some of the earlier commentators.

And even this seemingly sparingly laid out narrative reveals itself to the careful watcher to be a rich tapestry of symbols, metaphors and hidden meanings. Kiéslowski, just as in his other movies, demands participation of the viewer, and the one who expects passive entertainment has found the wrong film to watch.

Krzysztof never liked discussing meaning when it came to his movies, but liked keeping that up to the viewers, and few other directors have ever been able to lay out more food for thought and fruitful interpretation than him.

I saw the Three Colours trilogy before seeing Véronique, and the many similarities, both musical and in visual narrative, makes it feel like it almost belongs together with those three to form a quartet. In some ways it has more in common with Blue than Red and White do.

Had Juliette Binoche also been cast in the role of Véronique, as I understand that Krzysztof originally had intended, the similarities had been even greater. She was, however, occupied with shooting Les Amants du Pont-Neuf at the time I believe, and so Krzysztof opted for the less experienced Irène. I don't think the film is any worse for it: she is brilliant, and not just a pretty face as some people put it, but a very intelligent and aware actress as anyone who has seen her interview for the Red DVD release should discover if they haven't already.

In short: a wonderful film, wonderful music, great acting. But not a movie for everyone.