I watched and absolutely loved and was blown away by the power of Ashes of Diamonds several years ago, but for some reason I can't fathom now never got around to the other two parts of Andrzek Wajda's "War Trilogy" (one of those like Bergman's "Silence of God" triptych that is more about theme and ideas than a running story). Luckily, of all people, Bill Hader in a few interviews in the past couple of years spoke very highly on Wajda and especially on these films, so I thought it was time to see this and Kanal. I'm very glad I did.
What stands out so patently and vividly here in A Generation is how Wajda uses a consistently moving camera to add another level on to what the film is speaking to. This is set around 1942 during world war 2, after the Nazis have already ravaged the place (sometimes bodies of supposed traitors hang in the street square for the townspeople to see), and Warsaw looks as bad as you might think it does. In this backdrop, a young man named Stach tries to get by and finds work as an apprentice, but soon realizes his worth is marginalized by his boss. He's persuaded to join the Underground - which is Communist but about more than just that, fighting Fascism and Nazism - and meets a young woman in the group.
What I mean by Wadja using his medium to great effect can be seen simply in one scene where the young man goes to his first People's group meeting; the young woman speaks about how workers need to organize and do this and that in these times, and Wajda tracks a cigarette being passed from one man to the next. It's not the longest shot of the film or even the most complex (the opening shot may be that), but it brings cinematic language to the forefront. We have what the woman is saying in audio, and (not but, and) what we are seeing makes the theme clear and even explicit: we can share a cigarette, or share other things like material possessions but also ideals, while being engaged in what matters. This is on top of his expressive use of close-ups throughout, often emphasizing these actors looks of equal points of hope and desperation, fear and determination.
And yet, this active and alert mis en scene doesn't detract from the realism (one could even say Neo-Realism) of the time and place it's set in; this is looked at as a major point of entry to the "New" Polish cinema of the time, but it could also play on a double feature with Rome, Open City. How can one fight oppression? Easier said than done, and especially when guns are in one's face. And all the while, Wajda makes one feel like you're there in this war-tattered place (I assume this was when Warsaw had most of the physical scars left over from the war) with these workers who only have so many options to survive and want/deserve better for themselves. And like Rossellini's film, too, there are moments of shocking and brutal violence. It should be.
One might say what dates it somewhat is that it was made under Communist rules and regulations, that it may even be propaganda. I don't think I see it so much it only because Wadja makes it more about how one feels in this world (look at the use or narration, or how kids on a merry go-round in the foreground is contrasted with smoke from a burning Ghetto in the background), so it's more of a poetic expression of the ideas, and how such struggles with a young People's Group can falter. If there's any minor criticism it's that the episodic structure means it isn't always so tight a narrative, but this isn't a major knock against what is so great here.
(And yes, that is a young Polanski)
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