Jewish Post, Indianapolis, Marion County, 22 January 2003 — Page 18

NAT 6 January 22. 2003

Media Watch

‘The Pianist’ —

By RABBI ELLIOT GERTEL Roman Polanski's film, "The Pianist," is a paradox that can be readily explained: It is a

highly idiosyncratic filmmaker's take on an even more idiosyncratic true life story. Based on the autobiography of concert pianist Szpielman, the film is, first and foremost, a tale of survival. It makes the point, clearly and consistently, that survival of the Holocaust was often a matter of timing, luck, stamina, chemistry of personality, and seizing of opportunity, which were more beyond than within the control of the survivor. ' But Polanski's choice of this particular story, this particular screenplay (that of Ronald Harwood), and the way the story is presented and mounted reveal something of Polanski's perspective as a filmmaker and as a Jew. Szpielman was a pampered son and brother who at an early age distinguished himself as a concert pianist on Polish radio. Only Nazi bombardments through the windows of the studio could stop his chords of encouragement to his fellow Poles. One figures from those early scenes that Szpielman would remain in Poland and that a piano would play a role in his survival. Though herded with his family into the Warsaw Ghetto, he survives with the help of notorious Jewish police, a kind and beautiful Polish singer and her actor husband, friends of theirs in the Polish Underground, and even, at the end, of a German soldier who discovered him in hiding and heard him play. (We learn that the soldier died in a Russian detention camp in 1952.) The portrait of Szpielman's family in Warsaw, of his parents, brother, and two sisters, is a touching and respectful one. They all show real character and personality, at least until the film, in describing syskematic Na'zi dehumanization,

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navigating through props

must strip them of all hope and fight. The only "Jewish" aspect of the family that was even discussed was whether it was necessary to pack the picture of a bearded patriarch of the family when the Szpielmans thought that they could change residences until things blew over. As it turned out, the

There are good Poles as well as bad Poles and in-between Poles. There is even, as I mentioned, a kind German soldier. The film is definitely respectful of the Polish rescuers who came through valiantly and nobly in Szpielman's life. I have no doubt that the film will be popular in Poland. Appropriately, the film de-

Szpielman was a pampered son and brother who at an early age distinguished himself as a concert pianist on Polish radio. Only Nazi bombardments through the windows of the studio could stop his chords of encouragement to his fellow Poles. One figures from those early scenes that Szpielman would remain in Poland and that a piano would play a role in his survival.

framed photograph was not that important to anybody. In unforgettable and unrelenting detail we follow, through Szpielman's eyes, the historic panorama of the Nazi invasion of Warsaw; the ensuing, increasing restrictions against Jews (barring them even from walking in public parks), culminating in their being forced to wear Jewish stars; the building and overcrowding of the Warsaw Ghetto; the deportations of Jews to the "labor camps" in the East for mass extermination; the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising; the Polish Resistance, and the Russian defeat of the Germans. Szpielman managed to escape each of these horrors and ordeals. He literally witnesses most of these events from nearby garret windows while waiting out the war. Adrien Brody reacts his way through the film, showing the requisite shock, sadness, and relief. Polanski is careful to feature good Jews of fine character alongside desperate Jews, such as the Jewish police, who are treated with understanding. Szpielman and his brother struggle to make ends meet in the Ghetto by selling books on the street. They did not join the Jewish police who had to select fellow Jews for execution and deportation (almost always the same thing) in order to save their own skins. The Nazis had planned well this psychological'tenrorism. i'Vil Em i ' Mill

picts Nazi barbarity and atrocities in excruciating detail. Children, the elderl), and the handicapped are the prime targets of Nazi cruelty and violence. In one scene a man in a wheelchair who cannot stand up to salute the German soldiers is thrown off a balcony to his death. Szpielman remains throughout these events, and throughout this film, an increasingly dispassionate witness. But he is, at least at first, capable of remarkable sensitivity. When a young woman who caught his fancy is being herded to an ominous fate, he catches up with her long enough to say, "I wish 1 knew you better," and she answers with a heartfelt and memorable, "Thank you." It is the dispassionate aspect of the story, however, that seems to have resonated with Polanski most, and that defines this movie. First, Polanski clearly identifies with Szpielman's definition of the Jew as the eternal sentinel whose treatment by others is the measure and warning of the need for vigilance in a particular society and in the world. The point is repeatedly made that whatever happened to the Jews would be the fate of Poland and that the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising was an inspiration to the Polish revolt against the Nazis. When Szpielman laments the speed with which the NaV . j,\. \ \ ■Cvhiin'ucci oii page 14

Jean Herschaft is feeling a bit under the weather, but she'll be back soon.

Spirituality Corner

Miracles can happen

Tess went to her bedroom and pulled a glass jelly jar from its hiding place in the closet. She poured all the change out on the floor and counted it carefully. The total had to be exactly perfect. No chance here for mistakes. Carefully placing the coins back in the jar and twisting on the cap, she slipped out the back door and made her way six blocks to Rexall's Drug Store with the big red Indian Chief sign above the door. She waited patiently for the pharmacist to give her some attention, but he was too busy at this moment. Tess twisted her feet to make a scuffing noise. Nothing. She cleared her throat with the most disgusting sound she could muster. No good. Finally she took a quarter from her jar and banged it on the glass counter. That did it! "And what do you want?" asked the pharmacist in an annoyed tone of voice. "Can't you see that I'm talking to my brother who is in town from Chicago and whom I haven't seen in ages," he said without waiting for a reply to his question. "Well, I want to talk to you about my brother," Tess answered back in the same annoyed tone. "He's really, really sick... and I want to buy a miracle." "1 beg your pardon?" said the pharmacist. "My brother's name is Andrew, and he has something bad growing inside his head, and my daddy says only a miracle can save him now. So how much does a miracle cost?" "We don't sell miracles here, little girl. I'm sorry, but I can't help you," the pharmacist said, softening his tone a little. "Listen, 1 have the money to pay for it. If it isn't enough, I will getf the rest/Just tell rat* how

much it costs." The pharmacist's brother was a well-dressed man. He stooped down and asked the little girl, "What kind of a miracle does your brother need?" "I don't know," Tess replied with her eyes welling up. "I just know he's really sick, and mommy says he needs an operation. But my daddy can't pay for it, so 1 Want to use my money." "How much do you have?" asked the man from Chicago. "One dollar and eleven cents," Tess answered barely audibly. "It's all the money I have right now, but I can get some more if I need to." "Well, what a coincidence," smiled the man. "One dollar and eleven cents is the exact price of a miracle for little brothers." He took her money in one hand and with the other hand he grasped her mitten and said, "Take me to where you live. I want to see your brother and meet your parents. Let's see if I have the kind of miracle you need." That well-dressed man was Dr. Carlton Armstrong, a surgeon, specializing in neurosurgery. The operation was completed without charge, and it wasn't long before Andrew was home again and doing well. Mom and dad were happily talking about the mysterious chain of events that had led them to this place. "That surgery," her Mom whispered, "was a real miracle. I wonder how much it would have cost?" Tess smiled. She knew' exactly how much a miracle cost ... one dollar and eleven cents ...plus the faith of a little child. A miracle is not the suspension of natural law, but the operatlonuvf a higher 1 law. 1 ''' - - •