More tremendous composition and juxtaposition. But the accomplishment here is way more than just formal; in its own quiet, allusive way, Kieslowski’s Railway Station rumbles as much as Andrzej Wajda’s celebrated feature film, Man of Iron. If KK’s Factory gave us an ambiguous, simultaneous critique/appreciation of the regime and its functionaries, then this one is infused by an unmistakable impatience, even anger.
We start with the broadcast of a rotten, lying propagandistic newscast that underpins and infiltrates a subsequent series of poignant, tender, typical interactions. Greetings, farewells, sitting around—people are people, and Poles especially. While this wonderful stuff goes on Kieslowski starts cutting to the security camera; whether or not its presence inhibits the people’s interactions, it is taking an undue, propriety interest in their private lives. (Danger—the west has security cameras too, as well it should. However, Kieslowski is definitely inviting us down this somewhat hasty interpretive path.) At the end a lady comes on TV to announce the start of a British film about a dog named Spot. Look at the date of production, and listen to the echoes from Gdansk; there’s writing on the wall!