Making of the Film

Director's Note

by Roman Polanski

I always knew that one day I would make a film about this painful period in Polish history but I didn't want it to be autobiographical. As soon as I read the opening chapters of Wladyslaw Szpilman's memoirs, I knew that The Pianist would be the subject of my next film. It was the story I was looking for : in spite of all the horror, it is upbeat and full of hope. I survived the bombardment of Warsaw and I wished to recreate everything I remembered from my childhood. I wanted to stick as close to reality as possible and avoid any Hollywood–style make–believe.

As well as my own experiences, I could rely on the authenticity of Szpilman's story, which he wrote shortly after the war. That's why it is so strong and so authentic. He depicts the reality of the period with surprising, almost chilling, objectivity. In his book, there are good Poles and bad Poles, good Jews and bad Jews, good Germans and bad Germans. Before we started shooting, of course, we consulted historians and survivors of the ghetto. I also showed the whole crew a number of documentaries about the Warsaw ghetto. As for the actor who would play Szpilman, I wasn't looking for a physical resemblance. I wanted an actor who could inhabit the character as I had pictured him while writing the script. It was important that he should not be a household name. As the film was to be shot in English, we needed someone who spoke the language fluently.

We organized auditions in London. To our amazement, 1400 people showed up, including some women, a few Asians and some blacks. After the auditions, we realized it would be difficult to find someone with absolutely no experience, so we extended our search to professional actors. I couldn't find anyone suitable in Britain, so I cast my net wider, in the United States. I wanted a young actor. When I saw some of Adrien Brody's work, I had no hesitation: he was The Pianist.

POLAND

If not now, when?

"I always knew," says Polanski, "that one day I would make a film about this painful period of Poland's history, yet I never wanted it to be based on my own life." While visiting Krakow scouting for locations for The Pianist, those memories resurfaced. Walking along the streets of the former ghetto, what I felt then proved that I couldn't shoot the film in Krakow. I have never done and never intend to do anything autobiographical but I can use the experience of having lived through all that to make the movie."

Polanski's desire to return to Poland crystallised when he read Wladyslaw Szpilman's autobiographical account of his astonishing escape from the ghetto. "As soon as I read the first few chapters, I knew that it was going to be the subject of my next film. This is the right story. I know how to tell it. It's such a positive piece. In spite of all this horror, there's hope in it."

THE PAST

Authenticity "I lived through the bombing of Warsaw," says Polanski. "I wanted to recreate everything I remember from my childhood. I want to stay as close to reality as I can and not stage things in a Hollywood kind of way." Besides his personal recollections, Polanski can rely on the authenticity of Szpilman's memoirs. "The book was written shortly after the war and maybe this is why it is so fresh. It presents the reality of the era with an amazing, cool objectivity. There are evil Poles and decent Poles in the book, there are evil Jews and decent Jews, evil Germans and decent Germans." Soon after the Germans entered Warsaw in September 1939, exactions against the Jews began. The ghetto developed insidiously until all Warsaw's 360,000 Jews with another 100.000 from nearby towns were confined within its walls. As Nazi brutality overcame people's unwillingness to believe rumours of massacres and extermination camps, resistance grew, culminating in the heroic uprising of April 1943. The revolt's success precipitated German plans. The largest Jewish community in Europe was ruthlessly liquidated. Having consulted historians and ghetto survivors, such as Marek Edelman, prior to shooting Polanski also decided to screen for the whole crew a number of documentaries about the Warsaw ghetto. No one was left in any doubt of the importance of reconstituting honestly and fairly the details of Szpilman's miraculous survival.

WARSAW PRESS CONFERENCE

(March 28th 2001)

– Why were you so attracted to Wadysaw Szpilman's book? What was in it that was so important for you and why, as you yourself have said, do you believe in that movie like in no other?

Roman Polanski – This book describes the events I remember from my childhood. For many years I've been planning to make a film about this period but I couldn't find the right subject, the right story. Szpilman's book isn't just another chapter of the book of martyrdom we all know. This book describes these events from the point of view of a man who lived through them. It presents the reality of this era with an amazing, cool objectivity. There are evil Poles and decent Poles in this book, there are evil Jews and decent Jews, evil Germans and decent Germans. As we know, the book was written shortly after the war and maybe this is why it is so fresh, unlike the books that were written later, 20 –30 years after the war. As soon as I read the first few chapters I knew that it was going to be the subject of my next film.

– Mr Ronald Harwood, the co–author of the script, has said: "Roman Polanski's contribution to the script is enormous. Many solutions, which nobody else could have thought of, are taken from his own personal experience". To what extent is this film your personal creation?

R.P – You know, many times I happened to read something that could more or less be the subject of a movie like this but it was usually too close to my own personal experiences from the war. I didn't want that. Here, however, we have the description of the Warsaw ghetto – I was in the Cracow ghetto, which means that I know this period, I know the Germans from that period, as well as the Jews and the Poles. At the same time I could use my own experiences while writing the script, without making it a biography. This is what I wanted to avoid, you know. It was easy for me to work on this script because the script wasn't at all related to the events, streets and people I remember from that period.

– Speaking of Ronald Harwood, what was the reason for choosing him as the author of the script, apart from the fact that he is a well known dramatist?

R.P – I needed someone who could write that kind of a script, I mean someone who has already had some experience in this subject. Ronald Harwood has written plays and scripts concerning this period in history before. I greatly admire him as a writer and as a dramatist, mostly because of these plays: the already mentioned "The Dresser" and … I don't recall the Polish title of the other play, "Changing sides" – it was also staged recently in Warsaw. It's a play about Furgwegler, the conductor who was accused of collaboration with the Nazis. What is the title? "Za i przeciw". It was after seeing this play which was very successfully staged in Paris last year I was convinced that he was perfect for the job.

– You've said many times that you treat the story told in The Pianist in a very personal way. Do you plan to make a statement by appearing personally in one of the scenes?

R.P – No, absolutely not. I want everything in this film to look as authentic and realistic as possible. Playing cameo roles in film is always reminiscent of Hitchcock and has some … it has a whiff of a personal joke which I want to avoid in this particular subject. Of course it could be symbolic but since I'm quite well known and people recognise me on the street it would evoke wrong connotations. Everyone would immediately say: " It's Polanski, Polanski". I'd rather avoid that.

– What is the biggest challenge for you in this movie?

R.P – Probably not all of you are aware of the fact that acting is in a way an unhealthy profession. It is because true acting requires living the part. When you tell it to people who don't know much about acting, they usually react with a condescending smile. But as someone who has experience in this profession I can assure you it is totally addictive. A good actor, who really performs and who really experiences what he performs, lives his part for 12, sometimes 14, or, like in our case, 16 weeks on end, rarely goes on unharmed.

– Speaking of ………., how did you imagine the actor who could play the leading part, what special characteristics did you look for? How did you look for the leading actor and what made you choose Mr Adrien Brody?

R.P – I can tell you one thing from the start: I never looked for physical similarity because in my opinion it doesn't matter. What I wanted was an actor who could fit into the character I had in mind while writing the script with Ronald Hawood. It was very important that he wasn't a celebrity, a well known actor – for the same reason I've just spoken about, regarding my appearance in the film. This is why we decided from the very beginning to try and look for an amateur actor. Because the film is shot in English, we needed someone who could speak fluent English. So we looked for this undiscovered talent in London. We organised the casting there. The organizers were surprised to see so many candidates, 1400 people applied, among them some women, some Chinese, some black people, and so on. After the audition we realized that it would be difficult to find someone with no experience at all, so we began to look among the professional actors. I didn't find anyone in England, so I decided to broaden my search. America was an obvious choice – as you know, they speak fluent English over there.

– While reading The Pianist one gets the impression that Szpilman kind of blames himself for not trying to find the Hosenfeld, the German officer. Do you agree with that? And if so, will there be a moment of hesitation in your film, emphasising the tragedy of the German officer?

R.P – There will be a moment like that in the film, but I don't agree with you that one can sense in Szpilman this kind of regret, he doesn't blame himself. In my opinion it is rather the expression of his modesty. As we know, he did everything he could to save Hosenfeld's life. He even addressed the communist authorities, in which he was of course unsuccessful. Everybody knows it was a lost cause. We also know that he has contacted Hosenfeld's family and that they were in touch. I believe that Hosenfeld's family came to Warsaw twice. By the way, we have also contacted Hosenfeld's son in Berlin.

–How did you help your actor to understand the reality shown in the film, the atmosphere of this period?

R.P – It is hard to explain verbally you know, you would have to come to the set and see how it is done. It depends on the moment, on the scene and of course on the actor. I don't want to talk too much about Adrien here, so that we don't flatter each other. We would sound like the club of mutual affection. I hope that the film will soon be in the Polish cinemas and you will be able to see for yourself.

– I wanted to ask you about the psychological impact of making this movie – how do you feel shooting it in Poland. I know that it is your first film shot here since "Nz wwodzie". Does it add a different touch to the whole thing, especially that the film's subject matter is rooted in your own experiences? It is completely different from The Ninth Gate. How did you prepare for this emotionally?

R.P – I didn't have to prepare myself, it was enough to read the book to immediately go back to these moments in a psychological way. Coming back physically certainly helps, I mean the Polish language, Polish customs, the atmosphere of the country, etc. It all helps. Everything happens automatically. I must tell you, however, that shooting with the Germans in Berlin was much easier for us. Hearing the Germans shout and seeing them wearing uniforms I realised that I could never film it anywhere else, even in Poland.

– It must be a meaningful experience for you to shoot in Poland after so many years. "Nz w wodzie" was your debut, it is one of the best films I've ever seen. I would like to ask you a technical question: will you shoot in original Warsaw locations, I mean Niepodlegosci Avenue, Noakowskiego Street, Puawska Street?

R.P – No, unfortunately Puawska Street and Niepodlegosci Avenue from that period don't exist anymore. But we have to manage somehow. I must tell you that fortunately technical development allows us to recreate certain things that are long gone. I'm speaking about the use of the computer which is too obvious in many movies, but in our movie it will pass unnoticed. As far as the original locations are concerned, we will only shoot in Krakowskie Przedmiescie Street and Kozia Street.

Other locations are in the Praga district. I must say that I was very lucky – I don't know if it's the right word … In 1939, soon after the war started, all men went east for some reason that was unknown to me, whereas me, my mother and sister went to Warsaw. I lived through the bombing of Warsaw, I lived here for a couple of weeks. I remember everything very well. I wanted to recreate everything I remember from my childhood. I don't remember Ujazdowskie Avenue, I remember Warsaw looking like today's Praga district: grey streets, vigorous traffic, buildings from the turn of the century … This is why we have moved our set there.

– One more technical question which has been present in our discussion from the beginning. I wanted to ask you to comment on the history's irony – you're filming The Pianist at the time of Jedwabno affair. Can you comment on this coincidence?

R.P – It is, as you've just said, coincidence, and it is hard for me to relate this to my own experience of making the movie in Poland. People will keep finding out about other affairs – perhaps because many years have passed from that period and Poles have now a larger, more objective perspective on the history of their country. What's more, today's generation doesn't have to feel in any way responsible for what happened then.

– How long will you shoot in Warsaw?

R.P – We have only 11 weeks left.

– Have you ever considered making a feature film about Abi Rozner? His biographywas shown recently on Canal +, maybe it deserves a script? I'm holding a book "Roman by Polanski". Are you going to film it yourself or will somebody else have to write a script?

R.P – As for the first question, I have never planned to do this project. I think I've already answered the second question. Going back to the first one, I can confirm – I hope not. I mean I'm definitely not making my biography because it doesn't interest me. I'm making feature films, not documentaries. I hope nobody will ever make a film about my life.

– Could you tell us about your contacts with Mr Szpilman? Did you talk about the film, what were his requests? What were your suggestions?

R.P – Mr Szpilman didn't have any particular suggestions, he just repeatedly assured me how happy he was that his book would be filmed and that I would be the director. I only met Mr Szpilman three times. For the first time in Los Angeles, very long ago, during one of his visits to America, for the second time here, in the journalists' club about 12 years ago. I had dinner with Morgenstern, Szpilman joined us and we ate together. It never crossed my mind then that one day I would be filming his life story. After I decided to make a movie we met for the third time – I visited Szpilman with Gene Gutowski , we had tea and talked about the movie.

– Your films so far created reality rather than re–created it. After what you've said today, can I assume that you will try to re–create Szpilman's reality as well as you can and not to add anything from yourself?

R.P – My approach to this film is definitely different. Every subject requires a different approach.

– There are famous Polish actors in the cast of "The Pianist" – will we notice them in the film?

R.P – You will see Polish actors playing small parts, but as I've said, the film is shot in English so our choice was limited to those Polish actors who can speak English well enough. Suddenly I want to make a movie. This situation can be compared to choosing dishes out of the restaurant menu. My recent films were pure entertainment, they lacked deeper philosophical and social value. "The Pianist" is a rather bitter dish.

– Why have you turned away from the realm of the grotesque, the absurd towards fundamental values like tears, fear, escape? What happened? For a long time Spielberg kept asking you to make a movie like this.

– R.P – As I've already said "Schindler's List" was too close to my own experiences. I avoid situations like this because I couldn't make a good film. As for "Schindler's List", I think that Spielberg has done a great job. No one else could do it as well as he. He told a story about the time, people and even streets very intimate for me. While looking for the locations for The Pianist, we went with Mr Starski to Cracow – since there are not many old streets left in Warsaw. We were walking along the streets of the former ghetto and what I felt then proved that I shouldn't shoot the film in Cracow. Even for personal reasons. I very rarely visit the streets that are very meaningful for me, I've been to Cracow for the second time. If I worked in the places which have historical and personal value for me, I would surely lose it and these places would become just a set design for me. Before I simply couldn't find the right subject. I was asked many times if I would make a film in Poland and I always answered: "Yes, I plan to do it, I just don't know when yet". I've always known that I want to make a film in Poland about The Second World War or the after –war period, I just couldn't find the right subject. Szpilman's book was the right subject.

WLADYSLAW SZPILMAN

THE PIANIST

A life in two parts

Aged 27 when war broke out, Wladyslaw Szpilman was already recognised as one of Poland's foremost concert pianists. He was playing Chopin's Nocturne in C sharp minor on Polish state radio when the Luftwaffe dive–bombed the radio station out of existence. As Jews, Szpilman and his family were evicted from their apartment and herded with thousands of others into the Warsaw ghetto, where the Pianist scraped a living, playing in the bars where collaborators and black marketeers gathered. It was one such Jewish collaborator who saved Szpilman from the train that took his family to their death in the camps. Thanks to a network of pre–war acquaintances, resistance fighters and, surprisingly, with the help of a German officer, Szpilman survived the war.

After the war, Polish radio started up again, fittingly, with Szpilman completing the Chopin Nocturne so brutally interrupted six years previously. The Pianist wrote his memoirs in 1946 but the book was banned by the Communist authorities. Szpilman's son, who, like Polanski, had never spoken to his father about the war, found the manuscript and re–published the memoirs in 1999 to huge international acclaim. Szpilman's book is a vivid and uplifting account of life in the ghetto and his own amazing escape and survival. The strong subject matter and emotions it generates, along with a beautifully sketched array of colourful secondary characters, made it an obvious source of inspiration for Roman Polanski, who had already met Szpilman on two occasions.

At their third meeting, in early 2000, Szpilman expressed his pleasure that his book was to be made into a film with his compatriot directing. Wladyslaw Szpilman passed away on July 6, 2000, before shooting began.

Szpilman's memoirs haunts the mind in tiny, searing cameos. You'll cry – I did – but please read it.

SUNDAY TIMES, 28/11/99

Wladyslaw Szpilman's memoirs of life and death in the Warsaw Ghetto is a miniature masterpiece

THE GUARDIAN 3/12/99

Szpilman lost his entire family, but he was repeatedly saved by others, particularly by other Polish musicians and music lovers

BOSTON GLOBE 10/22/99

The Pianist is filled with unforgettable incidents, images and people.

THE WALL STREET JOURNAL, 2.9.1999

His story is so incredible that it must be read to be believed…

THE WASHINGTON POST, 18.11.1999

ABOUT THE PRODUCTION

The following notes are by Gene Gutowski, the co–producer of The Pianist and Roman Polanski's friend for 36 years with whom he has made Repulsion, Cul–de–sac and The Fearless Vampires Killers. After long break they again are working together on a subject they have both personally experienced, surviving the war years in Poland, Roman in Krakow, Gene in Warsaw.

Ruined cities were the most common sight in the Central and Eastern Europe at the end of WW II. 55 years later it took months of work and half a million dollars to recreate the ruins of Warsaw for Roman Polanski's film The Pianist in Juterborg a former East German town 90 km from Berlin.

As Warsaw in the story by Wladyslaw Szpilman in the years of nazi occupation 1939 – 45 no longer existed, it had to be pieced together from various remaining streets and buildings mostly in the old district of Praga in Warsaw itself. Some objects, entire streets, in fact had to be recreated exactly down to the last detail on the backlot of the Babelsberg Studio in Berlin to the specifications and drawings of the production designer, Oscar winner Allan Starski (Schindler's List) and his team of Art Directors.

In Poland, which has been rebuilt since the devastation of the war, there were hardly any ruins left which were essential to the story, as it was a totally destroyed empty city which Szpilman (Adrien Brody) found crawling out his hiding place. And so, after many months of extensive and intensive search, abandoned former Soviet army barracks were located in Juterborg destined for demolition, and here Allan Starski has created a nightmarish, moonscape of a destroyed city with only a few bent lamp – posts standing. It was here that in the bitter cold and howling wind that the filming of The Pianist has commenced on 19th of February, appropriately with the scenes of Szpilman crawling over a wall to face the deserted ruined city covered with a blanket of snow. Supported by a vast array of equipment: trucks, generators, cherry–picker cranes, wardrobe, make–up, director, artists and production trailers, large heated tents and catering facilities all lined up with military precision, a 100 strong international, Polish, German and French crew worked smoothly and efficiently together, motivated by the subject matter and the opportunity to work with Roman Polanski. Some of the key technicians have worked with him on many of his past films, for others like Pawel Edelman the DP and his all Polish crew this was the first time. The multilingual director was communicating with his crew members in their respective language.

After two days of filming the unit has moved to an old villa in Potsdam adapted and dressed to portray a temporary German army field headquarters where, in the attic Szpilman has found a refuge and where he is discovered by the German Captain, (Thomas Kretschmann) for whom he plays the piano to prove that he truly is a musician. For this important scene a famous Polish pianist Janusz Olejniczak was engaged, to record Chopin's Ballad No.1 g–moll op.23. As the scene was being shot, moved by the music and the heartbreaking scene of a starved, frozen Jew playing for his life before a visibly moved German captain, all women in the crew and some of the men tried to conceal their tears.

It is snowing and production schedule is changed for the unit to return to Juterborg to film the end sequence of the film when Szpilman, wearing his saviour's German officer coat emerges out of hiding into the winter landscape of snow covered ruins to meet his liberators – Polish soldiers. If not for this providential "act of God" sudden snowfall, a very costly option would have been to call in the artificial snow–makers to cover the ruins. The director took a chance and ordered the production to "hold the snow". His proverbial luck has held once more and the final sequence of the film was shot as it was written, in the frozen snow covered deserted city on 24th and 25th of February. Or was it blessing from heaven for Roman Polanski and the film… There were many in the crew who thought so, when a small meter high figure of Jesus Christ bearing a cross was brought on to the set. It was a perfect replica of a large bronze statue standing in front of the baroque church of the Holy Cross in the center of Warsaw. As result of the uprising when the Polish underground army bitterly fought against the might of the German army the city was reduced to rubble. The church was destroyed and the statue of Jesus Christ riddled with bullets, was lying on the ground turned on its back one hand pointing to heaven. Before the fighting was over it was returned to its pedestal among the ruins, a symbol of Lord's great sorrow. The make up artist Waldemar Pokromski and his team of sculptors working nights created a perfect replica, which was then placed among the ruins and filmed.

Once the director Roman Polanski has decided to make the film of The Pianist the widely acclaimed account of Wadysaw Szpilman's life in the ghetto, his escape and survival in the ruins of deserted city, he was determined to tell this harrowing story as it was written, with a sense of detachment, yet full of infinite richness of detail. Szpilman was a camera. While the Gestapo film crews were documenting life in a Warsaw Ghetto for propaganda purposes, he in turn in his mind was filming them and the unspeakable conditions of his and his family's life sparing the reader no nightmarish horror yet telling it all objectively as a camera would. While Ronald Harwood (The Dresser, Taking Sides) was adapting the book into a screenplay, the production designer Allan Starski with his team was engaged to document and design sets and locations faithfully depicting Warsaw as it was prior to the outbreak of the 1939 war, during the creation of the ghetto, and through gradual degradation of living conditions and finally extinction of its inhabitants. In the end, after the uprisings witnessed by Szpilman, there were only ruins left. Drawing heavily on his own childhood experience in the Krakow ghetto Polanski together with Allan Starski for months were striving to create absolutely authentic look. Archives were searched and photographs and documentary films were viewed, and the survivors like Marek Edelman were consulted. Endless location searches were made and thousands of photographs taken and, in the end, a consensus was reached between Polanski and Starski resulting in an extensive and expensive program of studio and external set constructions and adaptations. Similar effort went into casting the picture. A brilliant young American actor Adrien Brody (Bread and Roses, The Thin Red Line) was selected to portray the main character, Szpilman, with a distinguished cast of English actors to support him, and with a young rising German star Thomas Kretschmann (U 571) portraying the Captain Hosenfeld.

As the film is being shot in English language, the decision to use primarily English cast was determined by the need for uniformity of accents.

As The Pianist was going to be a truly European production and the key technicians whom Roman Polanski has gathered around him represented several nationalities. From Poland, where the production was in the hands of the executive producer Lew Rywin and his production manager Michal Szczerbic came, besides Allan Starski and his art directors and designers also Pawel Edelman the director of photography (The Edges of the Lord), and his camera and lighting teams. Anna Sheppard (Schindler's List), Polish born but residing in Britain, took over the design and acquisition of thousands of period costumes and uniforms collected from sources all over Europe. Also from Poland came internationally known make–up stylist Waldemar Pokromski. From France came Sylvette Baudrot (Continuity), Didier Lavergne and Jean–Max Guerin (Make–up and Hair), Jean Marie Blondel (Sound), Guy Ferrandis (Still Photographer), some of them veterhich she haans of many of the Polanski's films. Great Britain provided the Associate Producer Timothy Burrill, military consultant Andrew Mollo and stunt coordinator Jim Dowdall, casting director Celestia Fox, as well as services of two excellent set painters. Germany's Babelsberg Studio has provided massive support for the production in a way of extensive set constructions and adaptations and production management. The producer's of this complex and ambitious undertaking together with Roman Polanski are Robert Benmussa, Alain Sarde and co–producer Gene Gutowski with Lew Rywin as executive producer and his Heritage Films of Warsaw mounting the production of The Pianist in Poland in association with TVP 1 and Canal+.

Though of many nationalities, the producers and technicians are bound by sense of loyalty to the director and the project.

"Nihil magnum sine ardore" no greatness without passion is Roman Polanski's life motto which was inscribed on his sword of honour presented to him upon his installation as member of the French Academie. It is with this palpable passion that Polanski is now directing the film, a passion shared by his actors and the multilingual crew. As most of them are men and women of a young generation they were only vaguely aware of the brutality of the nazi occupation of Poland and the bestial treatment given to the Jews of Warsaw. A screening was arranged of a selection of documentary footage for the entire production team few days prior to filming. The reaction was of shock and disbelief but at last they all now knew the background of the story of The Pianist.

A notorious perfectionist, Polanski demanded of course total authenticity of sets, costumes, uniforms and props and even of the faces of actors and extras, of which thousands were interviewed, photographed and video–taped. It was essential to find the right types to portray the Poles, Jews and the Germans as they looked 60 years ago. In the end, it was German actors and stuntmen who, when put into uniforms of the dreaded Schutzpolizei, and the SS Sonderdienst, and speaking German among themselves, gave the film a chilling quality which even the director with his childhood memories, was finding uncomfortable.

For Szpilman's final hiding place, an abandoned once elegant Warsaw villa, one was selected in a quiet residential street in Potsdam. Built on several levels from basement kitchen through spacious receptions in which a temporary German army field headquarters was set up commanded by Captain Hosenfeld, to an attic above and even higher to a tiny cubicle under the roof, where Szpilman half delirious and starving, has found a hiding place. It was here that his German saviour gave him food and his own officer's overcoat. The dust covered grand piano, a relic of the villa's elegant past, was standing in the almost empty salon now the Captain's office and on it Szpilman, his fingers stiff and half–frozen, plays for the German Chopin's Ballad No.1 g–moll op.23. Cramped for space yet insisting on total realism and shooting late into the night, Polanski drove himself the actors and the crew into exhaustion until this important and poignant sequence was completed on the 1st of March.

Whether rehearsing the actors or preparing the scene with his camera crew and the special effects team, his compact youthful body in a state of perpetual motion, Polanski works with concentration and confidence seeking the best performance and the best shot where every frame counts and no detail is too trivial to escape his eye. In appreciation of his immense skills and talent, his actors and his crew work with rare devotion, aware of the importance of the film and emotions involved in sharing with the director a journey into his own childhood. On the 2nd of March the production unit with its fleet of support vehicles has now moved to Belitz a small town south of Berlin in former East Germany. Here, in a sprawling now abandoned hospital complex built at the turn of the century and more recently used by the Soviet army when Russian language signs are still in evidence on walls, important scenes are being filmed of Szpilman hiding in a burnt out German military hospital in Warsaw, desperately searching for food and in the end cooking and eating a disgusting fly covered concoction.

In yet another building on a staircase, Szpilman escapes from a shelled and burning building, tripping and falling over the body of a man burnt to death whose shocking wounds, peeling skin and blisters were created lifelike by the master make–up artist, Waldemar Pokromski.

At last the unit moves to the back–lot of the Babelsberg Studio where a complex of Warsaw streets and 5 story houses was built with a breathtaking sense of period reality. Paved with real cobblestones with tracks upon them for a replica of a Warsaw tram to travel on. Built with infinite attention to every minute detail of architecture and set dressing, street and shop signs and wartime posters, this set was being used for a series of important action sequences all of them observed by Szpilman from high above. From there he watches when at the outbreak of the Warsaw uprising in August of 1944, Polish underground fighters attack a German police station across the street.

In a fierce street battle, the building is demolished with grenades and set aflame with a "Panzerfaust" and many SS men killed. The adjoining Army hospital is evacuated, captured civilians are shot in the street and later a tank rumbles unto the street and fires its gun at the building where Szpilman is hiding. Polish fighters retreat behind a street barricade at one end of the street and are mowed down by SS troopers advancing behind an armoured troop carrier. On director's suggestion the tank was used again, when other means failed, to turn over a street car on its side. The event was cheered by the entire crew and filmed by Polanski with his own camera. In yet another terrifying sequence, the street and the buildings now completely revamped for a Warsaw Ghetto location, are watched by Szpilman and his family from their apartment. A small unit of SS police drive up and enter a building opposite and from the top floor balcony throw an old Jewish invalid together with his wheelchair. The male tenants of the house are chased out to the street, forced to run for their life and executed in cold blood. Leaving the scene, the SS car runs over the fallen bodies. The free fall from the balcony was shot in one take, filming lasted through the night, the exhausted director, crew and the actors finishing at 7 o'clock in the morning. Starting on the 15th of March one the most important and technically complicated scenes of the picture is now in the making filmed simultaneously with 3 cameras at various levels: the attack on the ghetto. The SS troop advancing towards the ghetto wall came under fire from a building on the Jewish side and take cover. A couple of troopers toss phosphorous grenades over the wall setting the building aflame before withdrawing. They come back, just as they did 64 years ago with a small field gun. A shot is fired and the explosion in the wall creates a large break and send bricks flying along the street barely missing members of the crew. SS troopers rush in with flame throwers. The buildings are now burning and some of the Jewish defenders, aflame, jump of the high balconies to their death.

The battle is overlooked by the passive SS Gruppenführer Stroop surrounded by his bodyguards, his limousine and radio car nearby, in a chilling restaging of the infamous photograph taken at time. The last of the defenders are rushed o ut, stood against a wall and executed in cold blood. On the 26th of March it is wrap time in Babelsberg… and again the gods of filmmakers are smiling. For the winter scene of Szpilman crossing a street and a courtyard to enter a building where he will hide with his Polish friends, artificial snow was put on the ground. Just as the cameras were about to roll it started snowing, against all weather predictions, endowing the scene with sense of reality. A day later the enormous street set stands empty. Quickly and efficiently all equipment and props are removed. Gone are the cherry–picker cranes, the lights and cables, gone are the generators and supply trucks, gone is the tank. Only pushed to one side the Warsaw streetcars are still there.

Some of the buildings are half burned. The shops with their Polish and German signs are now empty. The period posters are still on the walls and old periodicals in the empty kiosk. Gone too are the crew, the actors, stuntmen and extras portraying Poles, Jews and German SS men all part of that human drama that is film making. Gone too is the electrifying, dominant presence of the director always visible in his red parka standing out against the dark garb of the crew and the costumes of the players. Curious visitors now come to stare in wonder at the empty quiet set shortly to become a tourist attraction and a part of the Babelsberg Studio tour. It is with a certain measure of nostalgia that the director and the Polish and French crew members have left Babelsberg Studio and their German colleagues with whom they worked closely for many months, preparing, constructing sets and finally filming for 5 weeks. The sudden and unexpected death of the head of the Babelsberg Studio, Rainer Schapper, a very talented former production designer ("Name of the Rose"), much loved man has added a note of great sadness to what has been a very successful and happy cooperation. Rainer has been largely responsible for The Pianist coming to Babelsberg and has in the process of doing so become a good personal friend. At the memorial services Roman Polanski spoke briefly and warmly saluting his departed friend whose ever smiling face radiating optimism and good cheer he would miss forever. Allowing only two days for the transfer of the crew, equipment and costumes, filming of The Pianist commenced again on Thursday 29 March on location in the streets of the Praga district of Warsaw.

Here, across the river, time for the most part stood still unlike in the hustling and bustling central Warsaw with its restored historical part and now elegant skyscrapers springing up everywhere. Praga was spared the destruction, as it was here that the Soviet army rested, unwilling to cross the river allowing the nazis to put down the Polish uprising in the Fall of 1944. Here in the poorest section of the city, old brick tenements still stood pockmarked by bullets holes, identical to the houses and streets of the former Warsaw ghetto. Also, this is a very rough, crime–ridden neighbourhood and it took a measure of behind the scenes wheeling and dealing to assure the production of a peaceful tenure. Using documentary material, Allan Starski and his team, have recreated the main street crossing in the Warsaw ghetto down with shops signs, displays posters, official decrees even personal messages written on small cards emplaced in the walls. In the morning of the first day it was if the clock of history turned back 60 years. On both sides of the swinging gates linking the large and small ghettos and guarded by the German, Polish and the Jewish police, crowds of the emaciated Jews in tattered cloths and wearing the Star of David armbands were waiting for the gates to open to rush across the "Aryan" street upon which the regular city traffic was moving: streetcars truck cars and horse drawn wagons. The gates open and they rush through on foot, the more affluent in bicycle propelled rickshaws, all tipping their hats to the German policemen. A small Jewish street band was playing, and to amuse themselves the German policemen were dragging men and women from the crowd, deliberately mismatched couples, forcing them to dance… faster and faster. The total reality of the scene and the set and of all the players was almost too painful to watch. Roman asked me to watch the monitor screen: "Does it look real Gene?" – he asked, and he and I who saw it all once before, looked sadly and knowingly at each other. Following days other scenes were filmed on a wooden bridge high across the "Aryan" street over which an endless line of Jewish men women and children was moving, their faces gaunt and empty, caring their meager belongings in suitcases and bundles. Among them Szpilman, his father (Frank Finlay – "Othello"), mother (Maureen Lipman – Educating Rita), his brother Henryk (Ed Stoppard – The Little Vampire) and sisters Regina (Jessica Meyer – Frequency) and Halina (Julia Rayner – Topsy – Turvy) In another section of the large composite street set, a building site was erected. Here emaciated Szpilman, now in rags, works on a construction with fellow ghetto inmates and some Polish workers carrying bricks up scaffolding. His obvious inaptitude provokes the anger of the German policeman, Schupo, who, pushing him into the mud holds his head between his legs and beats him with a whip : … "Und Zig – Und Zag – Und Zig – Und Zag!".

Roman Polanski's children are visiting. They come to the set to lunch with their father, adored and played with by most of the crew. Their constant movements, laughter and childhood games stand in stark, almost bizarre, contrast to the grimness of the subject, the costumes and faces of the actors and extras. Their presence helps break the tension and their bright faces help put to rest the shadows of the past.

There are other light moments too when a crane has to be used to remove the coloured towel from a window high above the street or when the filming stops while the entire crew franticly looks for the driver of the streetcar who went off to relieve himself: "– How old are you?" – asks Roman… "– Only 30 and you can't even hold your water." Roman Polanski is a Polish icon and the inhabitants of the Praga's mean streets watched the filming quietly and patiently keeping down their voices and taking instruction from the flock of the eager young assistant directors. For the old ones it was reliving a distant past for the young, a lesson of history. In 24 hours the ghetto walls, the gates and the bridge are removed and the street life is back to normal except for some shop signs and ads and posters pasted on wall s, ghosts of the distant and terrible past. Many people stopped to read and walked on quietly shaking their heads.

© Gene Gutowski / April 2001