Radiance Films: Through and Through (1973) - Reviewed

Images courtesy of Radiance Films

Radiance Films at present might be my favorite boutique releasing label.  From their deluxe packaging with OBI-spines, beautiful transfers and bold if not unique choices for titles to publish (many of which made their world premieres on Blu-Ray disc) and key extras without overwhelming the viewer with too many choices, they’re in my opinion giving The Criterion Collection and Arrow Video a run for their money.  Catering to more niche and aesthetically challenging if not experimental fare from all around the globe, they continue to strive for a kind of zenith of cinema both familiar and yet to be introduced in the UK or US.  Their latest package comes in the form of Polish writer-director Grzegorz Królikiewicz’s debut surrealistic and elliptical crime/love story Through and Through, a film which kicked off an entire oeuvre of like-minded sociopolitical investigations into either postwar Poland or the country’s transition from communism into democracy all through the prism of fragmented, avant-garde filmmaking. 

 
Told through dissonant passages with Bogdan Dziworski’s 1.33:1 black-and-white camera staring either into space or focusing closely on hands or faces or objects as sounds diegetic and non-diegetic drift in and out of the soundscape rendered by Janusz Hajdun and Henryk Kuzniak, Through and Through for all of its experimentation is basically a true crime story set in 1930s Kraków involving two impoverished youngsters Jan Malisz (Franciszek Trzeciak) and Maria Maliszowa (Anna Nieborowska) struggling to survive.  Opening with the elliptical editing style by Zofia Dwornik fluctuating in and out of fleeting daydream and a heightened documentary reality, we pick up on the unlikely twosome’s mutual attraction when they meet at a rowdy and drunken party.  In and out of humiliating situations, Jan’s desperation grows when he loses his position at a photography studio due to his alcoholism, leading towards the brutal murder of an elderly couple culminating in an ethereally realized courtroom trial and imprisonment focused only on tightly rendered closeups of the two actors against deep black backgrounds.

 
Running a tight seventy-four minutes but unfolding in a labyrinthine, atonal, expressionistic manner replete with an affronting soundscape of threatening low rumblings, orchestral strumming and intentional lapses in dialogue and/or scenes where the camera is not looking at what the soundtrack hears, Through and Through is kind of revolutionary.  Experimental yet controlled, nebulous yet clearly trained on these two characters who are at once criminals and very much products of society looking the other way from the country’s lower-class sectors, it packs in a lot to wrestle with despite being seemingly lofty and possibly adrift.  Performance wise, the film zeroes in on the actors’ faces with tight Bergmanesque close-ups as Franciszek Trzeciak, an actor turned director later in life, exudes despair and anguish on his face including an extended long take of tears welling up on his hardened face.  Sadly this is the only known film performance of actress Anna Nieborowska as his abdicating deflecting partner-in-crime though her own stern gaze seems to match her lover’s in the courtroom while on trial.  Notable Polish actor Jerzy Stuhr from the Apocalypse Tetralogy also shows up in it while Pharoah actor Jerzy Block alongside Irena Ladosiówna play the unfortunate elderly couple who find themselves under attack by the desperate young drifters.

 
Released in 1973 to widespread critical acclaim including two Best Director wins for Grzegorz Królikiewicz at Interfilm Awards and Josef von Sternberg Awards ceremonies, Through and Through restored in 2K for Radiance Films comes to Blu-ray disc for the first time featuring three short films by Królikiewicz: Everyone Gets What They Don’t Need, Brothers and Don’t Cry.  Also included is a 20-page booklet featuring essay writing by Ela Bittencourt who at one point interviewed Królikiewicz.  A highly stylized look at the impoverished underbelly of pre-WWII Kraków told through a wildly experimental fashion and an audacious screen couple, Królikiewicz’s seamless weaving between fantasy and reality, consciousness and subconsciousness, neorealist docudrama and nonlinear storytelling remains as bold as it is unclassifiable beyond the pantheon of pure Polish cinema.  Newcomers and longtime followers of Królikiewicz will be delighted with this release while Radiance collectors will find within Through and Through a fascinating experiential character study forcing us to look between the lines rather than straight at the screen.

--Andrew Kotwicki