NEWS
28/03/2017
“Spoor” of discord
Agnieszka Holland’s new film divided the critics and audiences into two opposing camps. Somehow the general reaction to “Spoor” went far beyond the usual bounds of artistic critique; disliking the film was tantamount to supporting the present political climate of Poland, embodied by a minister joking disdainfully about vegetarians and cyclists.
Negative reactions to the movie persistently confused fiction with reality. Reviewers vented their outrage that Holland and Olga Tokarczuk, the author of the novel Spoor was based on, were more concerned about game animals killed during legal hunts than about humans murdered in retribution. Holland’s supporters came across as bland compared to this level of vitriol. It seemed that the faction of the general public that usually considers Holland a spokeswoman for its views only reluctantly fulfilled the unpleasant duty of standing up for the director who bluntly speaks truth to power. Not even the Berlinale’s Silver Bear award could redirect the debate about Spoor to the right track – one concerning the film itself and its artistic merit. The national TV didn’t cover it; other media applauded the win while clearly distancing themselves from the film. As a result, Spoor was the most notable Polish premiere of early 2017 despite an almost total absence of analyses free of unhealthy sensationalizing.
Andrzej Grabowski and Marcin Bosak in SPOOR / photo: Robert Pałka
Maybe that’s because Spoor doesn’t lend itself well to unambiguous reception. The issue here is not the quality of the movie itself, but the fact that Holland gave up clarity in favor of setting an array of traps for the viewer. It’s tough to even pick a genre that would fit it! Few films are this hard to categorize. Still, that was also the case with Drive Your Plow over the Bones of the Dead, Olga Tokarczuk’s novel which inspired the screenwriters. Starting out like a thriller set against the harsh backdrop of unforgiving nature, the book shrugged off genre boundaries, slipping into surreal fantasy conventions. Readers couldn’t be sure whether the events had really occurred in the world of the novel or were just a figment of slightly ruffled imagination.
The movie begins like an eco-thriller, a scathing rebuke of the widespread acceptance of legalized poaching. A small-town hunting club is ran by the local good old boy network: shady business owners bribe policemen and ally themselves with the parish priest, as if cementing the ancient Polish alliance between crooks, politicians, law enforcement, and clergy. The director scatters seemingly trivial details across the screen; their significance will only be revealed later on, like clues in a classic mystery. In a move reminiscent of Lars von Trier films, Spoor is divided into months, each connected to the hunting season for a particular species of animal. As soon as the viewers settle comfortably into the familiar genre, Holland switches tracks, nosediving into formally derealized retrospection sequences. The plot loses its clear definition, becoming a horrifying fantasy rooted in the protagonists’ traumatic experiences. On the other hand, the images of dying animals and snow tinted with the redness of their blood wouldn’t be out of place in a dystopian fable about ancient laws of nature brutally destroyed by human intervention.
In “Spoor” we see a world that revolted against values and veered out of control and a protagonist who has to restore the balance on her own – by any means necessary
It’s quite telling that Holland was inspired by a novel set in the Kłodzko Valley. She could have shot her movie someplace else, she could’ve filmed it on a much bigger budget with more impressive production values – but Spoor is a tale inextricably linked to Kłodzko and its surroundings, possibly due to the fact that Olga Tokarczuk resides in nearby Nowa Ruda. It would be very shortsighted to say that the locals were cast in the worst possible light in the film or that it gave the area a bad name. There’s something of a paean to these lands in this film, though tinged with bitterness: an ode to their beauty and the eternal rhythm of local life, to small towns that evolve into separate, independent microcosms reminiscent of Andrzej Barański’s paintings, although dissimilar in tone.
True, Agnieszka Holland’s movie contains all of these things, but a different interpretation jumped out at me after two viewings so far. I consider Spoor a bizarre morality tale that doesn’t slavishly follow the internal rules of fables. It’s centered around a woman named Duszejko (played by Agnieszka Mandat, eminent actress of the National Stary Theatre in Krakow, best known for her spectacular roles in plays directed by Krystian Lupa); Duszejko is just Duszejko, she refuses to answer to her first name, Janina. She lives in an old hut on the edge of the forest with two mongrel bitches that she calls “girls” and treats like daughters. Duszejko used to build bridges in Libya and even more remote places; now she teaches English in a primary school. Though the kids adore her, the principal lets Duszejko know that she shouldn’t go overboard with unconventional teaching methods – hiring this old woman was quite enough of an undeserved favor already. The locals see Duszejko as a harmless loony. She bombards the police with fiery missives about hunting and tries to appeal to the priest’s conscience, but his response to her seeking spiritual aid makes her blood boil. And yes, some scenes make us sympathize somewhat with the negative perception of Duszejko – what sane person dumps everything out of her bag in the middle of a pedestrian crossing to look for her phone?
Agnieszka Mandat and Andrzej Grabowski in SPOOR / photo: Robert Pałka
That’s what things seem like at a first glance, but Duszejko is an enigmatic character. Despite her ocassionally hysterical reactions to the heartlessness of others, Duszejko can be cold and calculating. She resembles the yurodivy of Russian religious traditions, holy madmen who see and know more than those who focus on the mundane. Like a yurodivy, Duszejko lives by her own rules, following a deeply ingrained system of values. Duszejko sees a world that revolted against values and veered out of control; she has to restore the balance on her own – by any means necessary.
Why does this reading of Spoor appeal to me so much? It’s deeply rooted in the entire body of Agnieszka Holland’s work. She tends to stand up for individuals, trying to restore their dignity or even make them realize they had it, like Father Frank Shore (Ed Harris) of The Third Miracle, a priest who reaffirms his religious faith, but can’t handle physical love. Socha of In Darkness is an even better example: a regular, down-to-Earth Polish man who discovers his inner hero as he starts saving Jews, the very people he used to regard with disdain. Now he realizes that this is the right thing to do – and becomes greater than life.
This isn’t the first of Agnieszka Holland’s films to spark a heated debate. An artist of her caliber has no need for mealy-mouthed praise. She won an award at the Berlinale for “a film that opens new perspectives” – and I’m sure this acclaimed maverick with over four decades of filmmaking experience sees this as significant and deeply satisfying praise
The protagonist of Spoor can be more annoying than these men, surprising the viewers with her irrational behavior. At the same time, this is what gives Duszejko her strength and prevents her from being one-dimensional. Her name became a rallying call, synonymous with a host of characteristics vital for modern women. No wonder that feminist activist Sylwia Chutnik used it at an International Women’s Day protest in Poland: “Now is the time of Duszejko and people like her,” she announced.
This isn’t the first of Agnieszka Holland’s films to spark a heated debate. An artist of her caliber has no need for mealy-mouthed praise. She won an award at the Berlinale for “a film that opens new perspectives” – and I’m sure this acclaimed maverick with over four decades of filmmaking experience sees this as significant and deeply satisfying praise. It certainly fits Agnieszka Holland particularly well. If I had to pick one thing that makes Spoor so appealing, it would be its cheekiness and dynamism. It proves Holland capable of furiously ripping off the label of “classic director” if someone was bold enough to pigeonhole her.
—Jacek Wakar (translated by Dariusz Kołaczkowski)