Monday, August 2, 2021

What people do for love in Borowczyk's Story of Sin

 

The 1970s –regardless of what its detractors say—has given us popular music that more than any other decade has something for any occasion, thus it is more likely to be mined to sell a product in TV commercials, or set a mood in a movie. That decade was also one in which filmmakers felt free to test the boundaries of previously taboo subjects, and few did so with such willful abandon as Polish director Walerian Borowczyk, whose “rise and fall” from being on the “cutting edge”  of the art film stratosphere to a forgotten purveyor of politically-incorrect “erotica” is chronicled in the recent documentary Love Express: The Disappearance of Walerian Borowczyk. Directors like Terry Gilliam and Neil Jordon paid tribute to his influence on their own work (particularly on Gilliam’s Monty Python “cutout” animations), but the fact that the Blu-ray and DVD of that title was released almost a year ago and still no one has submitted a review for it on the U.S. Amazon site speaks to Borowczyk’s disappearing act, at least on this side of the Atlantic.

Borowczyk’s films were definitely an acquired taste even during his “peak" period of “fame” during the early-to-mid 70s. The recent Arrow releases on Blu-ray of The Beast and Immoral Tales were given “highly recommended” and “very highly recommended” reviews on Blu-ray.com, although this merely confirms their cult status in certain quarters. Story of Sin, on the other hand, was given only a “recommended” rating; this is probably due to the fact that compared to first two, Sin is relatively “conventional,” probably explained by the fact that expat Borowcyk returned to Poland to make the film, and the Communist regime probably “recommended” that he make a film that didn’t stray too far afield from “taste.” The fact is that out of his oeuvre, Sin is probably one of the few that could show up on midnight cable television without causing too much of an uproar, since its sexual scenes can hardly be called “erotic”; that can’t be said of the films regarded as his “best” by film cultists, like The Beast, which is not fit, and never will be, for “mainstream” digestion, since you can’t just cut the sex scenes with the “beast” without destroying the “point” of that film.

So for my tenth and last film review for this period, I’m going to look at the Borowczyk film Story of Sin, since it is the “safer” of his better known output. It is interesting to note that Arrow was unable to recruit anyone to do audio commentaries for either Immoral or Beast, but did for this film. Daniel Bird's audio commentary from the out-of-print 2004 UK DVD release was not ported to this one; although sporadic, when he did say something, Bird provided interesting tidbits about the production, such as the working relationship between Borowczyk and the actress playing Ewa becoming so toxic that by the end, he had to use another actress to dub her lines. Bird admits that he thinks that Boroczyk's short films were superior to his feature films, but I am less interested in the supposed "aesthetics" of  the former, and more in the "message" that the latter's presumably has the time to tell.

However, I didn’t get any help from the commentating by Kate Ellinger and Samm Deighan on the Arrow release, who only provided personal observations without any particularly insightful elaboration into what Borowczyk was trying to achieve; Bertrand Mandico's short Boro in a Box was an effort to gain such "insight." Deighan was tough to listen to, less so because of her infusion of current gender politics but because she has that annoying habit of some American women of putting inappropriate “emphasis” on words or phrases at the end of sentences. The Brit Ellinger is at least more forgiving of European cultural mores, and paid more attention to detail; several times she had to correct Ellinger’s observations  and quizzical analogies that were at odds with what had been going on on screen.

The film, set in the early 20th century, begins with Ewa Pobratynski (Grazyna Dlugolecka) at confession; “Ewa” translates as “Eve” in English. She wants to be free of sin, and she asks the priest what sin is, and how to avoid it; she is a young woman now, so you would think she has some idea of what “sin” is, but Borowczyk needed to get the definitions out there. “I do not recall having committed any venial sins,” she says. The priest proceeds to describe what is not sin: “St. Ciprian calls virgins fragrant flowers of the church, embellishments of human nature. The perfect work of that nature immune to corruption, representation of the Creator’s holiness. Thou are indeed pretty, but that is not thy doing. Yet, to achieve a beautiful soul is within thy power. Try to make thy soul as beautiful as they flesh. Close your eyes to the sight of sin.” 

 


 

But Ewa persists: “But what is sin, Father?” The priest unhelpfully states that “Sin is an evil deed.” Ewa again wants clarity: “But how will I know it?”  Again, the priest offers no specifics: “It must be a deliberate act. He who does wrong, raises his hand against God. Sin is an offense against God. It’s inner cause it imagination and lust. Its outer cause is another man, or Satan. Satan clouds man’s mind, quickens his imagination and incited lust.” He then offers something of an answer to her question: “Never read books which spread sin. Look not at obscene paintings. Avoid things which may be charming outside, but filthy inside.”

And there is “temptation”: “when thou walkest in the street, men watch as you pass them. Am I right?” Ewa, affirms this, and the priest goes on “The looks of these strangers arouse in you a strong feeling. A feeling it is hard to describe. You must not respond to those looks with joy. Do this and you attain what St. Paul calls ‘Love and the spirit of meekness.’” Ewa’s response is apparently troublesome to the priest: 

 


 

“But Father, isn’t that selfish? Can love be selfish? Enjoying wealth and happiness in the face of misery is a selfish thing.” What exactly is she saying here? Should she withhold any expression of “joy” in response to the pleasure she gives another person? The priest, sensing that Ewa might easily give in to “temptation” of a carnal nature, tells her “Pray, and thou willst not be deprived of mercy if you now a solemn promise to reform.”  Perhaps the priest doesn't believe that a "virtuous" woman would have thoughts of "real" sins like theft, robbery, murder, etc. on her mind, but only those of the sexual variety are of concern to her.

Ewa goes home, tells the housemaid she did not go communion, who wonders if she will survive the night without sin. Ewa is warned not to bother a lodger, Horst (Marek Barielowski), because he is “entertaining” a prostitute in his room.  In her room, Ewa reads from a prayer book: “Dear Lord, I am unworthy to receive you. St. Ciprian said of women: ‘You ruin your neighbors to whom you are worse than poison.’” Ewa wonders to herself “I can’t be that bad. O Lord, aid my humility.” 

 



Her father, Mr. Pobratynski (Zdzislaw Mrozewski), arrives. He believes his daughter “pure,” and asks her to “share some of that holiness with your old dad.” He admits he did not go to confession, because he preferred to go to the café for a cup of coffee. He doesn’t want people to tell him how to live his life.

 


 

A man arrives to see if he can lodge there. His is name is Lukasz (Jerzy Zelnik); he says he is an anthropology student. He is married, but his wife is not coming; he is in Warsaw to arrange a divorce. He is shown the spare room, and notices Ewa’s corset which she had taken off but had forgotten about. When he leaves to get his bags, an embarrassed Ewa quickly retrieves it.

 



While talking in the sitting room, Mr. Pobratynski mentions he is looking for work which is hard to find during this recession, but Lukasz says he knows a man who owns a factory who can give him work.

Out in a park, Lukasz is taking a stroll, and by “chance” he encounters Ewa, who obviously has a girlish crush on him even though she hardly knows him. He chases her around the park until he grabs, and she laughingly insists that she is going to church. He wants to know her name. Ewa, “The first sinner.” Lukasz tells her Ewa means “to exist” in Hebrew, is “life which was, is and ever will be. Ewa is the immortal woman. The heavenly Isis, who dwells in the realms of infinity.” Ewa seems to forget the bible she is holding, which holds no fears for Lukasz.

 



 

Later during mass, Ewa is kneeling awaiting to take communion, but suddenly to the surprise of the priest she rises and leaves before doing so.  Given the priest’s previous admonishment, she clearly in uncertain if she is free of “sin,” since she has given encouragement to Lukasz. 

 


Ewa is seen working in an accounting department, checking figures; but her mind is clearly elsewhere. Returning home, she finds Lukasz waiting for her, and they sit on a sofa close to each other, and he is about to put his arm around her when Ewa’s mother (Karolina Lubienska) enters the room. For the time being, propriety must be observed. 

 


 

Ewa arrives late for work; apparently she has been “busy” taking in a letter Lukasz has written her expressing his feelings for her, and she writes one expressing her own for him.. Before she leaves for home she is given a package, which contains red roses from Lukasz. She is then seen lying naked in bed, with the roses spread around her body. From a letter she has just written to him: “When you wrote there was no treason in my heart, it was the happiest moment of my life. You are right. There is no treason. I’ll never bring confusion into your life. We’re approaching each other. Distance and longing when will the miracle happen again? Only the two of us in time and space. The roses have faded on my breasts. I rest on fragrant fabrics in a long high room.”

 


 

It is clear that Eva, having experienced love for the first time, has become hopelessly devoted to Lukasz, reading and rereading his letters as affirmation of his love. But while at work he writes to her to say that he has burned all her letters. “My case was heard yesterday. I lost it. I have to pay my wife higher alimony. No hope of a divorce now. I feared that. I’m leaving today. I’ve taken a job out of Warsaw. I won’t give you my address. This is my farewell letter. I’m no weakling. I saw despair in your mother’s eyes, she begged me not to ruin your life.”

He is gone when she returns. She is inconsolable. Her sister says he didn’t say where he went, and anyways, who cares where the likes of him goes. Ewa shouts “You’re mad because you breasts are flabby” and “because you’re a cock-pecked wife and I’m my own self!” 

 


She leaves the table and marches off into the street. When she returns she is angry to learn that they are going to re-let the room, and threatens to walk the streets and go with the first man who comes along. She is told to forget Lukasz or she is done for. Never, she says. Her mother says she saw his lawyer and he is never going to get a divorce and never will come back to her. But Ewa is adamant; he worships him and some way, somehow she will get him back. 

Ewa happens upon a scientific pamphlet with an article written by Lukasz, and seeks out its editor to find out where he is. He is at an estate of a count named Zygmunt (Olgierd Lukaszewicz), and will be in Warsaw soon. After some searching she spots him riding in a carriage. They embrace. He tells her he’ll borrow money and go to Rome to try get a divorce there. He promises to contact her later. 

 


 

Time passes and Ewa receives a letter from a doctor who informs her that Lukasz has been shot in the lung, and he wishes to see her.  She is forced to leave her job without paid leave, gets on a train to find him; stopping at a café, she encounters a man named Pochron (Roman Wilhelmi), with his henchman Plaza-Slawski (Marek Walczewski). Pochron accosts her, but she escapes his clutches. 

 


 

She finds Lukasz in a hospital. He had fought a duel with Zygmunt. Someone had stolen her letters and gossiped. Zygmunt made fun of her, and he slapped him and they fought—or at least that is his story. He might die, but if he does, Ewa promises she will die with him. 

 


 

Ewa takes a job in a sweat shop; she passes herself off as Lukasz’s wife. The Jewish innkeeper asks her why they live like divorced people living in separate rooms. Ewa says he cannot be disturbed, he can’t sleep in company—or perhaps it is her last fig leaf of being without “sin.” 

 


 

Outside in the snow. Lukasz tells her Diderot says “Happiness and decency exist only in those countries where the law does justice to instincts. He’s right. In Japan, girls have baths in front of men. Japan’s a great society. Could a girl here do that? No! Shame is an invention, like clothes. So is a girl’s blush. On the Isle of Pines (an island in the Pacific Ocean) missionaries ordered girls to wear loin clothes. But they kept taking them off.” Ewa pointed out that they don’t live there, but Lukasz says “I want to teach you some anthropology. Woman’s shame is the invention of man.” This time it is Adam who is offering the apple of temptation. That evening they make love. He shows her a picture in an erotic book, and she assumes the position demonstrated, forgetting the priest’s admonition against “sinful” books and images. 

 


 

Ewa receives a letter from him while working at the sweat shop, telling her he is going to Vienna. While away he continues to send her letters and postcards; eventually he says he’s going to Rome, to try to get that divorce. As time passes Ewa looks and feels physically ill, probably because of her pregnancy. Ewa refuses to take visitors, until one day an obviously well-heeled man shows up to see her.  It is the Zygmunt, the count who wounded Lukasz. He does a double take when he sees her, impressed by her attractiveness. He tells her that he has been tasked to bring news of Lukasz. He is prison in Rome for illegally selling Austrian artifacts to the Americans. The count gives her some money, and offers further assistance if she needs it. 

 


 

After he leaves, Ewa appears to go completely out of her mind, and suddenly the baby comes out; Ewa is seen carrying something in a bloody towel, and throws it into the toilet opening in the outhouse. 

 


She returns home, but her mother wants to throw her out, because she is a “tramp” and a “slut.” Her father, however, welcomes her back, telling his wife that if she doesn’t shut up he’ll kill her. 

 


 

Ewa is then seen working as a cashier at a restaurant. Zygmunt just happens to be at the restaurant; he wants to talk to her. At an art gallery where Pochron and Horst also happen to be, the count tells Ewa that he has settled her past due rents with the Jewish innkeeper. He will pay for her travel to Monte Carlo to wait for Lukasz to leave prison, and he’ll help her father find another job. Zygmunt seems very helpful for some reason, perhaps because he feels “guilty” about having wounded Lukasz. Or perhaps it is for another reason. After this discussion, Ewa encounter the lodger Horst, who also seems to have “secretly” desired her. He admits he is “coarse,” but he is worth a “dozen” counts; Ewa, of course, has no interest in his advances.

 


 

Ewa decides not to wait and goes to Italy to visit Lukasz, but learns that he was released a week earlier and was deported to France. She goes to Monte Carlo, but he isn’t there. The count, however, is  but claims he doesn’t know where Lukasz is. He gives her money, which is seen by Pochron, who also just happens to be there. She plays the roulette wheel and makes enough to pay off her debt to the count, with the intention of having nothing more to do with him.

 


 

While still in Monte Carlo she learns from a man who is a friend of Lukasz that he has just married a rich woman who paid for his divorce. Ewa doesn’t believe it, but is later shown a copy of his marriage certificate. 

 


She encounters Zygmunt again, who claims that he heard that Lukasz went to her parents’ apartment, but Horst told him he had seen her and the count together, and he left raving, and he hasn’t been seen since. Despite this news, Ewa still claims that there is no one else for her but Lukasz. At this point we should note that none of the count's helpful hints pan out, perhaps by deliberate intent; the only occasions when Ewa is given information that brings about a reunion with Lukasz are by those without an ulterior motive, like the doctor and the magazine editor.

Ewa is sleeping in a rail car and Pochron comes into her compartment uninvited. She asks a porter to move her to a ladies compartment. She jumps off the train instead, and is taken to an inn. But Pochron has followed her, enters her room and threatens to kill her unless she gives him the money he saw the count give her. 

 


 

He then claims he has been thinking about her for years since they first “met” in the café, and threatens to tell the authorities about what she did to Lukasz’s “gift” to her (meaning the baby) unless she submits sexually to him. After that they pretend to be man and wife and seem to be living well, and she is introduced to Plaza-Slawski, a supposed count with “arms” but no “coat” to put it on. But in secret she continues to read Lukasz’s letters, until Pochron discovers them and takes the “crybaby” letters from her and locks them in a safe. 

 


 

They go to Plaza-Slawski’s apartment, where by threatening to inform the authorities about killing her baby they force Ewa to write a letter to Zygmunt stating that she desires him, because they know how much he desires her; she can convince him to sell his estate and go with her to America.  But when she sees him at his estate, Ewa tells him she has a fiancé, an industrialist and mine owner, and she is going to America with him. She claims she no longer loves Lukasz, and it is also best for the count to forget her, but he loves her and won’t let go of it.

 


 

Pochron, however, persuades Ewa that if she follows through on the plan to steal the count’s money, then they will try to find Lukasz for her, who now has money to burn and can “buy” another divorce.  Ewa has an assignation with Zygmunt in a hotel room and goes to bed with him. She opens a dresser door at the head of the bed, and is handed a syringe by Pochron, who is hiding on the other side. 

 


The count takes out a lot of money from a sack and gives it to Ewa, who then puts it in the drawer to be taken out by Pochron. After the count admits he wounded Lukasz, she plants the syringe in the spot he says he did so, causing the count to go limp and fall off the bed. Pochron and Plaza-Slawski enter the bedroom; the count is dead, and they put him in a box and take him away. Ewa didn’t know what was in the syringe would kill him, and she loses her mind, setting the room on fire. 

 


I want to stop here and note that in the audio commentary, Deigham made her most egregiously inastute observation by musing how “strange” it was that Zygmunt had “suddenly” fallen in love with Ewa just that night; Ellinger had to point out to her that he had clearly been infatuated with her from the moment they first met, and that he continued to give her assistance despite her lack of interest in him can only be explained by the fact that he was “secretly” in love with her and hoped that she could be persuaded to love him.

Continuing on, Pochron and Plaza-Slawski have abandoned her. Ewa now works as a prostitute. She invites another count, Cyprian (Miecyslaw Volt), who happens to be walking by the brothel. 

 


 

He doesn’t want to sleep with her, just talk; he is looking for “fallen” women to “save,” and after some sarcastic banter she eventually agrees to go to his estate. She works with other women who dress like nuns in a commune-like environment. Ewa is given work with room and board. The count is a reformer, and wants to establish a Utopia for the women, with no men allowed to live in and provide temptation. 

 


Cyprian encourages Ewa to confess to her crimes, and she admits to killing her baby, and Zygmunt. The count doesn’t seem too disturbed about this, and embraces her. Plaza-Slawski then shows up looking for her, giving her a letter supposedly from Lukasz, but it’s a trick.

 


 

Cyprian and Plaza-Slawski argue about who has the right to keep her, but Ewa agrees to leave with the Plaza-Slawski, wanting to believe anything that brings Lukasz back to her. He takes her to Pochron, who is sick and out of money, but has assembled a gang for a new robbery. Ewa doesn’t want to be involved, but is told she can go back to the country or wait for Lukasz. 

 


In the meantime, Ewa goes back to prostituting. She runs into Horst again, who is now broke too, but she’ll agree to sleep with him if he shows her where her father is spending his time drinking.   

 


 

She also learns that Cyprian has recently died, and since he had been declared insane, all his donations were annulled, the Utopia closed down, and all his money turned over to his widow, so there was no going back to the country sanctuary. She is now a completely lost soul.

 


Ewa is then forced to write to Lukasz who has just arrived in town, and to persuade him to see her again. Pochron and his gang go to his apartment to rob his safe and kill him, but Ewa warns him in time before being shot herself. 

 


Lukasz comes out with his own gun and wounds or kills the gangsters. He goes to bail Ewa out of jail, but she dies of her wounds when he reaches her.

 


First off, let me say that I do like this film, and interest in the tribulations and eventual fate of the central character, Ewa, is sufficiently maintained. Unlike some of Borowczyk’s other films, one does not have to worry about mixed company being easily offended by sexuality that is not exactly “normal.” Sin simply appears to be a (relatively) straightforward tale of a virginal young woman’s descent into hell because she refuses to let go of her first love. Perhaps one could be critical of the fact that Borowczyk gets down to business right way; we are supposed to believe that Ewa has been virtuous her entire life, and then one day a married man just walks in and she immediately falls in love with him with obvious carnal lust. Perhaps the reason for this is because Borowcyk is trying to throw in as many ways that Ewa is tempted to “sin” with the time allotted; this time, it is “Eve” who succumbs, tempted to stray by numerous “Adams.”

Some viewers may have their patience tested by the fact that Ewa always just happens to encounter the men who get in the way of her quest to make permanent a life with Lukasz by bizarre “coincidence”—wherever she goes, there is one, two or three of them. Even Zygmunt, as “helpful” as he is, tends to supply her with information about Lukasz that feeds into false hope and merely continues her quest no matter how unlikely it is to end in success. Even when she seemingly gives up and allows herself a “sinless” existence at Cyprian’s commune, somebody from her past has to show up and promise her if she “cooperates,” she will be reunited with Lukasz. She will do anything to be reunited with him—make a living as a prostitute, commit robbery or even murder. While there is an underlying theme of poverty in the film, as it relates to Ewa this is mostly her own doing, since in this film she leaves three (or four, including the commune) jobs of honest employment that allows her to live a modest existence, each time to seek out Lukasz yet again after receiving information about him.

In trying to understand this film we can go back to the very beginning: Did Ewa commit any of the sins the priest enumerated? She has obviously committed more than a few sins of an active nature (including murder), but of the “soul”? None of her “sinful” actions can be said to be from deliberate intent, but then again, she agreed to do them in the quest for “love.” The priest had told her that the “inner cause” of sin was “imagination” and “lust,” and she could certainly be said to be guilty of that. The “outer cause” of sin was man, who is incited to imagination and lust by Satan. One must never read books that spread sin. She certainly looked at such a book and followed its guidance, or was persuaded to. She also allowed herself to respond with “joy” to the looks of a relative stranger to her, Lukasz. Ewa had said that it is “selfish” not to love, or to feel happy in love; only trying to conceal it is "sinful." Ewa cannot believe that feelings of love are “that bad."

That is the crux of the “problem”: Ewa cannot believe that her love is “sinful,” and she doesn't spend a lot of time considering what she does to find it is sinful or not. Outside of Lukasz speculations that “sin” is the invention of man, the film doesn’t allow us to speculate about what Ewa thoughts are about her “sinning.” She simply exists in a world where there is no moral compass to point the way; cynicism and greed is the world she finds herself in. Once she “accepts” being a part of Pochron’s world, it is impossible for her to return to what she was anyways. In the end, there was no redemption for her: she lived for a love that was a chimera, and because of the choices she made or were foisted upon her, she ended up dying for it. There was no other way out of it for her.

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