The Decalogue

As a so-so fan of the late Polish director Krzysztof Kieslowski's work (of his Blue, White and Red trilogy, only White struck me as brilliant, while his earlier Double Life of Veronique was--in my opinion--a vibrantly colorful trifle), I approached his much ballyhooed 1988-1989 series of 10 one-hour made-for-television films with only moderate expectations. O, me of little faith! Almost without exception, these cinematic pearls, loosely inspired by the Ten Commandments, exercised mental moral muscles long gone to flab from a semi-steady diet of Hollywood-lite fare. Set in a high rise apartment building in a middle class section of Warsaw, each of the segments presents an interesting dilemma: a young voyeur spying on a promiscuous woman receives a sobering lesson in the difference between love and sex; a Holocaust survivor confronts an ethics professor who refused her a hiding place as a little girl during the war; an impotent husband, after trying to convince his reluctant wife to have an affair, is both shocked and obsessed when she finally does (sounds like a soap opera, but it's an incredibly touching, heartbreaking hour); and so on. While some will undoubtedly find one or two of the episodes slow-going, the cumulative impact of the entire series is amazing: you walk away from The Decalogue rethinking life's big questions, and when was the last time an Adam Sandler flick made you do that? Highly recommended. Editor's Choice. (R. Pitman)