Martin Scorsese Presents: Jump

He is possibly a con man or a holy fool. Either way, the Stranger has a rather torturous relationship with reality. Nobody remembers him, yet he quickly finds himself enmeshed in the town’s Twin Peaks-ish intrigues. It will be a decidedly strange civic celebration when the Stranger teaches the town to dance the “Salto” in Tadeusz Konwicki’s Jump, which screens with newly translated subtitles and a restored print as a handpicked selection of Martin Scorsese Presents: Masterpieces of Polish Cinema, hosted by the Film Society of Lincoln Center.

Presumably, the man who might be named Kowalski or possibly Malinowski, has a good reasons for jumping off a speeding train. Barging in on his unsuspecting host, he claims to have known the older man when he lived in town way back when. The hospitable chap does not remember the Stranger, but he assumes this is due to the lingering effects of his wartime post-traumatic stress disorder. However, the Stranger’s paranoid ravings suggest his mental state is far more questionable than his host’s. Nevertheless, he sort of pulls it together when he is around Helena, his host’s temptress daughter (whom the Stranger makes a show of mistaking for her mother).

As he ambles through the town and the plot, the Stranger apparently cures sick children, freaks out a fortune teller, and underwhelms in his efforts to seduce Helena. Konwicki will reveal all in the closing minutes, but not before indulging in sorts of trippy weirdness. Jump (a.k.a. Salto) is indeed a product of the 1960’s and Konwicki certainly captures the tenor of the time.

Unfortunately, Jump also carries some rather unintentional and uncomfortable irony. In real life, Zbigniew Cybulski (often dubbed the Polish James Dean) tragically died making a leap from a moving train, much like the one that opens the film. Konwicki penned some brilliant screenplays and novels, but his Jump script is more of an invitation to play than a cohesive narrative. Still, there are bits and pieces that stick in the soul, particularly the old man who survived the war despite looking like Blumenfeld, a famous Jewish actor—and might indeed actually be Blumenfeld, as the Stranger insists.

Regardless of what fate had in store, Cybulski is perfect as the Stranger, somewhat resembling Marcello Mastroianni in 8½, when not raging like a madman at whomever and whatever. The large ensemble is definitely a hodge-podge, but Wlodzimierz Borunski taps into some deeply sad places as the man who claims not to be Blumenfeld.

Konwicki and cinematographer Kurt Weber craft some striking images and the overall tone of the film is considerably more playful than you would expect from a Warsaw Pact-era head trip. In fact, things get pleasantly funky when it comes time to do the Salto. Recommended for adventurous viewers, Jump screens tomorrow (2/9) at the Walter Reade Theater, as part of Martin Scorsese Presents: Masterpieces of Polish Cinema.

Martin Scorsese Presents: Pharaoh

As the country that gave the world Quo Vadis, Poland has always appreciated a good epic. After all, Henryk Sienkiewicz’s short stories ran about five hundred pages. In the spirit of grand historicals, Jerzy Kawalerowic unleashed his inner Cecil B. DeMille in Phaoraoh, which screens with newly translated subtitles and a restored print as a handpicked selection of Martin Scorsese Presents: Masterpieces of Polish Cinema, hosted by the Film Society of Lincoln Center.

Ramses XII will soon be Pharaoh, but his father’s long, slow decline has allowed the priests to consolidate their hold on behind-the-scenes power. For decades, their coffers have swelled, while the Pharaoh’s have shrunk. Acutely aware of the situation, Ramses the younger makes no secret of his disdain for the clerical class and the superstitions they use to control the populace. He is also spoiling for a war with the Assyrians—a fact that suits the Phoenicians just fine. However, Ramses’ reckless nature will be his conspicuous vulnerability. Taking the Jewish Sara as his favorite mistress also raises eyebrows.

Throughout Pharaoh one can easily pick up on Kawalerowic’s affinity for shots of characters marching with a purpose, often culminating in an extreme close-up in the foreground, with a striking vista of sand dunes in the background. This is definitely big picture, cast-of-thousands filmmaking, shot in Łódź soundstages and on location in Uzbekistan and Egypt (for a handful of pick-ups). For obvious reasons, Pharaoh features a color palette heavy on the yellows and golds, as well as costumes decidedly on the skimpy side, especially for the standards of 1966. It is hardly Caligula, but there is at least one scene of old school revelry.

On one level, Pharaoh is a big juicy historical melodrama, with all kinds of intrigue and betrayal. Yet, the dynamic below the surface is also quite fascinating, particularly when considered as another celebrated collaboration between Kawalerowic and Tadeusz Konwicki, who would subsequently move in very different directions politically.  Konwicki would become a Solidarity supporter and pen the highly personal protest novel, A Minor Apocalypse. In contrast, Kawalerowic would basically sign-off on whatever was demanded of him (which greatly complicated his later career).  We can readily discern an “absolute power corrupts absolutely” theme reflective of Konwicki’s principles, whereas the depiction of priestly authority actively exploiting the masses would have surely satisfied Kawalerowic’s minders.

As the impulsive Ramses, Jerzy Zelnik came to play, unleashing all kinds of passion and fury, while staying grounded in the tradition of classical tragedy. There is indeed of touch of Hamlet in his Ramses. One could argue they both had father issues. And mother issues. And issues with women. Speaking of which, Barbara Brylska truly scorches the screen as Kama, the Phoenician priestess charged with seducing Ramses.

The Polish cast playing ancient Egyptian characters might sound a little odd, but it really is no different from the sword-and-sandal films Hollywood cranked out in the 1960’s. Elizabeth Taylor was not anymore Egyptian than Brylska. Lusty and sprawling, Pharaoh is an enormously entertaining cinematic indulgence, with unexpected bite in the third act. Highly recommended, it screens this Friday (2/7) and Sunday (2/9) at the Walter Reade Theater, as part of Martin Scorsese Presents: Masterpieces of Polish Cinema.