Written by Andreas Babiolakis

This review is a part of the Palme d’Or Project: a review of every single Palme d’Or winner at Cannes Film Festival. The Pianist won the forty seventh Palme d’Or at the 2002 festival.

The film was selected by the following jury.
Jury President: David Lynch.
Jury: Sharon Stone, Michelle Yeoh, Christine Hakim, Régis Wargnier, Billie August, Raúl Ruiz, Claude Miller, Walter Salles.

When Steven Spielberg approached the most meaningful project of his career, Schindler’s List, he wanted to make sure that he made a film as uninhibited by bad intentions as possible. How can you tell a story about the Holocaust and want to make money whilst doing so? Spielberg refused to earn anything from the project, calling it “blood money”. In fact, he was apprehensive about making the film at all initially. Was he the right guy for such a tricky, heavy subject? Schindler’s List was made with love and care, and it would be one of the greatest cinematic achievements about this topic. Nine years later, it was Roman Polanski’s turn. Unlike Spielberg, Polanski himself actually is a Holocaust survivor, and would be able to share some of his own personal recounts of the Kraków Ghetto and World War II from when he was a child. Spielberg channeled the change-of-heart of Oskar Schindler. Polanski adapted the memoirs of Polish-Jew Władysław Szpilman: a fellow survivor.

That film wound up being The Pianist: a distressing look at Szpilman’s many real tribulations. What The Pianist has is that personal touch. Polanski was there. He can attest to what it feels like to have loved ones stripped away from you by the Nazis. Surviving is only part of the story when you are cursed to forever heal. There’s no bringing back those that you adore the most. Szpilman was able to tell his story, but in doing so, he shares how he still longs for those that were killed (or whose fates were forever unknown). There’s not really any new lease on life when you are the sole survivor of your family. You die a new death: that of your spirit. The Pianist captures all of this, and it’s likely something that Polanski felt whilst making the feature. It’s a side of the story I still don’t think we’re used to seeing, because we really don’t view it enough outside of a massively well-researched tome like Shoah. It’s a daring angle, but it’s one of the handful of things that sets The Pianist apart from other similar films.

Another reason that The Pianist really is its own film is because of the haunting central performance by Adrian Brody as Władysław Szpilman. I feel selfish when I say that I wish that Brody continuously did work of this caliber, because… well… does he have to? What else does he have to prove? Furthermore, Brody put himself through hell and back to feel the losses that Szpilman faced, including the removal of luxuries, separating himself from his girlfriend, and other personal tests. Not to get into a whole spiel about the ethics of method acting or anything, all I will say is that Brody’s work translates to one of the most devastating performances I’ve ever seen; particularly how his body and spirit break down as the film continues. At times, I am nearly convinced that I am watching Szpilman facing the worst events anyone can muster again and again. Brody’s performance goes hand-in-hand with the upfront nature of Szpilman’s autobiography and Polanski’s direction: you may not find a recounting of the Nazi genocides as candid as this in a film that isn’t a documentary.

Szpilman is a professional pianist who is left to face the Nazi takeover of Poland with his family, but slowly and gradually, everything that he knows and loves will be taken from him. The Pianist follows this quest for survival and the countless steps taken in order to make it out of this war and slaughtering alive. As previously discussed, Szpilman’s perspective shows many horrifying elements of the Holocaust in such a detailed, accurate way. What I haven’t brought up yet is the symbolism behind the focusing on his actual musical skills. As someone who composes and plays for a living, Szpilman is briefly shown in his element at the very start of the film, and it’s the only time that we see him truly enjoying life and his passion for music (it’s very short). As the film goes on, so does his removal from those that he loves, and occasionally this is replicated via his piano playing, including a heart-breaking scene where he mimics playing (as to not be heard and have his location given away). He practices on a table as well, because there’s no other way he can keep doing what he loves. This all leads to the climax of the film: a do-or-die situation where muscle memory and the teensiest shred of energy that Szpilman somehow still has is the only ticket out. Words cannot describe how powerful this pivotal sequence is. You will feel every emotion under the sun in these few minutes.

Not only did Cannes get this selection right, but so did so many other ceremonies not known as the Academy Awards (Chicago is pretty good, but better than this? Really?). For me personally, The Pianist was a formative film during my teen years. As it was lumped in with Oscar-bait, it was a foray for me to get into better films that were of the same circles as these awards-season mainstream dramas. Naturally, I went down my Roman Polanski rabbit hole and discovered many films I would adore (as well as his awful personal side, but we don’t need to get into that here). The Pianist brought so much to my attention: specificities of the Holocaust that one likely wouldn’t learn about in class, a superstar performance from an actor that instantly earned his stripes, and how strongly a film can be made. For a while, The Pianist was outright one of my top five favourite films as a teenager. While this isn’t the case anymore (once you watch thousands of films, things are bound to change), The Pianist is still a masterwork I hold dear to my heart and am forever grateful for (as a lesson and as art). If these last twenty-odd years have told us anything, it’s that films like The Pianist will always prevail amongst the motion pictures made to make a buck during the awards season. Everyone here did what they could to bring a difficult life to be shared with the world, and The Pianist is made with nothing but the utmost respect and sincerity; there is not one false note here. For history buffs, those wanting to learn more about Władysław Szpilman, or cinephiles wanting to see one of the most powerful films of the twenty first century, The Pianist is a must watch.

Andreas Babiolakis has a Masters degree in Film and Photography Preservation and Collections Management from Toronto Metropolitan University, as well as a Bachelors degree in Cinema Studies from York University. His favourite times of year are the Criterion Collection flash sales and the annual Toronto International Film Festival.