Diabel

One of the finest international filmmakers still unrecognized by the general public, Polish director Andrzej Zulawski caused controversy in his native country from the beginning of his career with a manic, revolutionary WWII period piece entitled The Third Part of Night. From his first film his artistic trademarks were already in place: breakneck handheld camerawork, volatile political content, brutal violence usually rendered in broad daylight, and histrionic performances pitched to the heavens. His second film, 1972's The Devil, pushed the period setting back further to Eighteenth-Century Poland while pushing his technique to such extreme lengths that the finished product was banned via an agreement with the Catholic Church and the state government for decades. Interestingly, the film shares many visual and thematic similarities with Alejandro Jodorowsky's near-contemporary El Topo, which managed to win over audiences worldwide as Zulawski continued to toil within the communist system. During the brutal Prussian occupation of Poland, a mysterious black-clad, bearded stranger (The Tin Drum's Wojciech Pszoniak) arrives to claim a young prisoner, Jakub (Leszek Teleszynski), only to attempt to set him free once they are free in the barren wilderness. As they cross the landscape with a young blonde nun (Malgorzata Braunek) in tow, Jakub's fractured past is revealed in a series of disturbing vignettes showing how his family has been driven into degradation and desperation. In typical Zulawski fashion, The Devil barely functions as a traditional narrative, even foreshadowing his best-known film, 1981's Possession, as the narrative itself begins to break down in a series of gruesome vignettes including an unforgettable attempted rape and, most bizarre of all, a wolfish transformation scene which literalizes the monstrosities against which Zulawski's script has been railing. The bursts of violence (including a jolting gunshot to the face) certainly rivet the viewer's attention, but Zulawski's aggressive, dreamlike style remains the main attraction as his camera careens through the stark landscapes and often right into the actors' faces, their make-up literally streaking black across the screen during one particularly intense moment. The brutality (and, marginally in this case, sexuality) functions more as a Kabuki-like manifestation of the inhumanity present in the story and characters, a start and stylized method of externalizing in stark terms how much one man can wound another simply for existing. The Devil marks the second release from Polart's library through Facets in the United States, making for a welcome availability for some of Zulawski's key works which have previously been available only in wretched bootleg editions. The presentation is roughly on par with their first Zulawski release, the remarkable "unfinished" science fiction epic, On a Silver Globe,; image quality looks a bit dated and haggard in spots, but at least it's far clearer and more film-like than anything available before (which didn't amount to much at all). The film is presented letter-boxed (non-anamorphic) at 1.66:1 with optional English subtitles (which must be switched on manually with the remote - no menu option here). The whole package doesn't really offer much context for this wild and potentially baffling film; extras are limited to a few sparse text filmographies. For more information about The Devil, visit Facets Multi-Media. by Nathaniel Thompson