In a key scene from “The Painted Bird” a young boy, not even 10-years-old, holds a small blackbird while a grizzled old man brushes white paint across its feathers. The man then releases it to a flock of blackbirds flying overhead. Immediately the swarming flock savagely attack the painted bird and within a few violent seconds it’s plummeting back to earth, pecked to death by its own kind.
The analogy is a grim and potent one. Humanity is like the flock of birds, willing to attack, destroy and devour their own, even the weak and especially those who dare to look different. For a young Jewish boy in Nazi-occupied eastern Europe that was a vivid and painful reality. For this particular boy the ugliness of humanity extends far beyond the German invaders. Wickedness is found in every village and farmhouse he crosses; iniquity in most of the peasants and soldiers he meets.
“The Painted Bird” is a horrifying and intense 169-minute epic from Czech writer-director-producer Václav Marhoul. His film is based on Jerzy Kosiński’s 1965 controversial novel which was first published as a fictional work, marketed to appear autobiographical, and now widely considered fictional once again. Marhoul’s adaptation debuted at last year’s Venice International Film Festival and was marked by several walkouts in response to the movie’s graphic subject matter and unrelenting bleakness. But as Marhoul told the Venice press when defending his film, “Only in darkness can we see light.”
Make no mistake, “The Painted Bird” is not for the faint of heart. It can be shocking, at times savage, and for some it will be unbearable to watch. It’s a story told through the eyes of a young Jewish boy trying to survive in a war-ravaged land where shells of the living, drained of every drop of love and compassion, do nothing more than exist in a swell of unfettered human depravity. It’s a land full of people desensitized to their own indecency and reverting back to their most primitive instincts. As a result the boy both witnesses and experiences acts of unbridled brutality and unspeakable abuse.
We first meet the boy (played with heartbreaking innocence by Petr Kotlár) as World War II nears its end. He’s living with an old maid on a dusty isolated farm, left there by his Jewish parents after the Nazi roundups began. When the woman suddenly dies the boy loses his caregiver and safety net. So he sets out into the wild hoping to find his way home and into the arms of his mother and father. Instead he finds a cold, rotting world gutted by the war and where ‘the kindness of strangers‘ is as foreign as the ruthless invading forces.
The film is broken into nine chapters, each named after people the boy meets on his hellish odyssey. Among them Stellan Skarsgård as a disillusioned German soldier, Udo Kier as a jealous and obsessed miller, Harvey Keitel as a sympathetic priest, and Barry Pepper as a hardened Russian sniper. Most of the encounters end horrifically with barely a shimmer of light. And in heartbreaking fashion each chisel away at the boy’s innocence and humanity. Christian symbols speak to the idea of grace, but it’s smothered out by a society handed over to their own lusts and violence.
Marhoul communicates mostly through the camera and what little dialogue there is is spoken in an invented Slavic-like language in order to avoid indicting any one single nation. Cinematographer Vladimír Smutný shoots in stunning 35mm black-and-white with a CinemaScope ratio providing us with the film’s lone bits of beauty. The brilliant use of light and shadows, his searing and evocative close-ups, the meticulous compositions and eye-catching backdrops. Whether Smutný’s camera is gazing up at the gentle sway of birch treetops or peering around a corner at some unthinkable horror, the film’s most profound voice comes from its visual language.
“The Painted Bird” is an unorthodox Holocaust drama that puts its audience face-to-face with the inhumanity of humanity. It’s pitiless and unyielding conviction forces us to endure scene after scene of appalling cruelty, daring us to grow numb to it and therefore proving its bigger point. By the end you genuinely feel like you’ve been on a traumatic near three-hour journey, one I’m not sure when I’ll want to take again. But that doesn’t negate the sting of the film’s thought-provoking message. Nor does it nullify Vladimír Smutný’s unforgettable and award-worthy imagery. It simply makes it a hard movie to recommend to all audiences. Some will be absorbed, others will be repulsed. I’ll let you decide which you’re likely to be. “The Painted Bird” opens July 17th on VOD.
VERDICT – 4.5 STARS
What is this VOD, is it like Netflix & Prime? Also I would love to see this for the photography but not sure I could bare 3 hrs of trauma. Life really is too short.
VOD is simply Video on Demand. It’s like streaming rentals. I mostly use Vudu, but Amazon Prime and other outlets also do VOD rentals. But try Vudu. Free to sign up and tons of movies to rent or buy for your digital library. Free films too.
As for The Painted Bird, it’s stunning to look at but it’s horrifically brutal. I can’t emphasize that enough. It pulls no punches and will have you turning your head at some of its horrors. Not trying to scare you away, but I’m compelled to be as honest as I can about it.
I’m in two minds about it, will see. Saw Greyhound on Saturday review up 🙂
I thought you might have. Gonna check it out once I’m in the office. 🤞🏼
Cheers, just now checking out how to get Vudu thanks for that.
Awesome. It’s great.
Gosh, this looks fantastic! The cinematography looks amazing. Thanks, Keith.
It’s stunning for sure, but be warned. It’s savagely unsettling. As I wrote it shows things that some people simply won’t be able to stomach.
Well, today I’m having an angry, frustrated emotionally constipated day. This sounds just like what I need.
Ouch! One of those days? I know the ones you speak of. Here’s to tomorrow being better. 👍🏼
Yes. Sometimes you have to throw in the towel. Tomorrow will be better. 🙂
Oh, this looks really good. Reminds me a bit of Tarkovsky and Marketa Lazarova.
I can see those comparisons. The images are nothing short of stunning. Some have you staring in awe while others leave you grimacing.
I’ve heard a variety of different opinions about this one. Most critics seem to really like it, but there’s an equally large amount of people (particularly here: https://letterboxd.com/film/the-painted-bird/reviews/by/activity/ ) dismissing it as pretentious, repetitive, and even bordering on “torture porn” in its extreme brutality. Not sure what side I’ll be on, and not sure if I even want to put it on to find out, to be honest. (Judging by what I’ve read about the film, I think it’s safe to say that it would probably get an NC-17 if it was ever submitted to the MPAA. Does that sound accurate?)
My personal opinion is that it’s hardly pretentious and calling it “torture porn” misses the entire meaning of the film. As for rating, I doubt it ever gets submitted. If it did it may get an NC-17, but I’m not certain. I personally think an R rating fits it but not sure what the MPAA would say.
Considering that the film has (according to this review: https://www.reelingreviews.com/reviews/the-painted-bird/ ) multiple rapes, pedophilia, incest, and bestiality, I doubt it would get an R,. However, that’s what Takashi Miike’s equally messed-up “Visitor Q” slipped by with, so who knows.
Much of that is handled off screen and in one case insinuated more than shown. Still, don’t know how the MPAA would treat it. They can be all over the map with their ratings.
I’m not familiar with the novel but the way you’re describing it sounds a bit like Come and See? I’ll have to research this a bit to see how brutal it is before attempting.
Oh I forgot about Cone and See! It’s been years since seeing it. I do get the comparison and there are definitely similarities. Their focuses are a little different but the persistent horror is much the same.
Keith I saw this awhile ago so the “horror residue” has faded. The Painted Bird has to be one of the most intense but one of the best quality films of 2020. It sure fits into the atmosphere of 2020 doesn’t it.
I think it is too. It can be brutal to the emotions but it really cuts deep once you see what it’s going for.