1993, Propaganda Films
written and directed by Lech Majewski
produced by Lech Majewski and Henryk Romanowski
executive producers: Sigurjon Sighwatsson, Wlodzimierz Niederhaus
director of photography: Grzegorz Kedzierski
production designer: Andrzej Przedworski
costumes designed by Elzbieta Radke
edited by Elzbieta Kurkowska
associated producer: Johanna Ray
music by Jan A.P. Kaczmarek
| Karen | Jennifer Rubin |
| Wes | Viggo Mortensen |
| Harry | Jack Kehoe |
| Myrna | Rita Tushingham |
| Mies | Herbert Moulton |
| Jerry | Gideon Singer |
| Crucified (Black Man) | John Martin |
| Selma | Hanna Dunowska |
| President | Paul Sieloff |
| J.C. | Eb Davies |
| Mick | Andy Rivera |
| Tim | Michael Kott |
| Jameson | Jerzy Zelnik |
| Tully | Peter Chudy |
| Nurse | Renata Berger |
| Dr. Wayne | Jerry Flynn |
| Liz | Teresa Rauner |
| Dr. Killat | Peter Chudy |
| Secret Service | David Gaty Edward Ward Krzysztof Kieszonowski Jerry Gudejko Alhassane Barry |
| Undertakers | Mariusz Czajka Kazimierz Rabski Jacek Ryniewicz Stanislaw Dziedzic |
Usually I don't like this kind of movies, but I did like this one. Maybe it was just the music... Anyway it is a proof that one can make movie with a dense athmosphere with minimal resources. It has obviously its flaws, there are some superflous elements, some dialogs aren't working well in my opinion. Some known Polish actors are seen in the supporting roles and another point to criticise is their sometimes unbearable bad accent. But the main characters are very much able to carry the story (although it is hard to compare them to characters in a "normal" movie), Jack Kehoe as Harry is just brilliant, Viggo is good (as usual), makes quite an eyecandy, and it looks like he learned to play golf for this movie :-). It is a strange, surreal film. It feels more like a play, both for the "looks" and used metaphors. But inspite of its surrealism it seems painfully familiar. Kafka? Beckett's "Godot"? Or is it just a frightening similarity to the world outside?
And what's the story?
In the middle of a desert which seems to be a relic of some
unspoken apocalypse a young couple struggle with problems and
try to live a normal life. Their apartment is a sad collection
of the remains from a vanished world: some random furniture, souvenirs
and trophies from the glorious past, a TV set... It's all just
stuck in the sand surrounded by dunes, which here and there uncover
signs of an extinct civilization.
The world outside seems still to exist -- it appears in the form
of detached and senseless pieces: people appear out of nowhere,
parents and friends come to visit, the tax collector Harry Whites
still fulfills his duty with manic devotion. President has his
speech, there is a stock market and baseball plays, and movies.
Liz Taylor is still a goddess... And there is still television
offering an alternative reality, even though it is impossible
to say: is it a picture of the world or its ersatz?
Even though there is no sense in this world, people living in
it still hold on to their old habits, repeat gestures totally
out of context. On the edges of it, wonders happen from time to
time, but nobody is able to recognize them. There is a grotesque
sadness in the characters, like in an old senile woman dressed
like a teenager, like in the band from Titanic playing to the
very end.
Sometimes the protagonists have a moment of clarity, but they
are not able to free themselves from the parts they got in the
farce. They too become victims of the System, that despite the
global breakdown -- still works at its best.
"Gospel According to Harry" is divided in parts
with names taken from the Bible -- it's a little of the New and
the Old Testament, a little of the Stations of the Cross. It's
end is apparently optimistic: new life begins, rain is falling
on the dry ground. After all it is a Gospel -- A Good News. So
there is still hope.
... Is it?