The 1940 Katyn massacre of 20,000 Polish officers lies close to Polish hearts and not only to those directly affected by the atrocity. The atrocity has been largely ignored in world history, with the Soviets denying responsibility for over 50 years and suppressing documents relating to the incident. It was not until 1990 that the Soviet Union actually acknowledged the massacre and the subsequent cover up was revealed.

However, it has never been classified as the war crime that it was, and remains a much maligned episode of world history. Andrzej Wajda brings the massacre into the mainstream with a film that has earned him an Oscar nomination in the Best Foreign Picture category. Katyn (2007) screened publicly at the Melbourne International Film Festival to a sold out audience.

Wajda has captured the Polish consciousness for over fifty years with films such as Ashes and Diamonds (1958), Landscape After Battle (1970), Man of Marble (1977), and the Oscar nominated Man of Iron (1981). He has faced the challenges of censorship, his projects restricted by the often stifling political climate of his homeland. The octogenarian has saved his most personal project until last, having himself lost his father in the Katyn massacre.

Throughout history, Poland has been a nation torn between the powers of Germany and Russia. The chaotic opening scene of Katyn epitomises this. As the Nazi invade from the west and the Soviets from the east, for the Polish people trying to flee oppression, there is nowhere to go. On a bridge, confusion reigns as groups of refugees yell at each other about the encroaching forces they are each trying to escape. For one woman her focus is solely on finding her husband but in the end there is nothing she can do to save him from his own patriotism.

Rather than portraying the massacre itself (although he eventually does at the end), Wajda is more interested in the repression the followed and the consequences for those who tried to speak out. With the Soviet post-war occupation, the Nazis are blamed for the atrocity. As Poland attempts to make a new start, Katyn is buried in the ashes of the war. Any mention of the atrocity will result in dire consequence. The director of a fine arts university encompasses the cynicism that has in some ways persisted in the Polish psyche, as she states “Mark my words, Poland will never be free.”

Wajda recreates the stories of mother, sisters, wives and daughters who lost their men at Katyn, through fragments of memoirs, notebooks and stories. There are heartbreaking moments. A daughter being pulled from her father’s arms who is unaware of the fate which awaits him. The hot-headed young renegade (reminiscent of Korab in Kanal (1957) ruthlessly shot dead after an impulsive kiss. A former-Polish officer, Katyn survivor, turned Soviet soldier who can no longer live with the burden of his knowledge. The young lady who sells her hair to a theatre wig maker for a headstone to commemorate her deceased brother. Within minutes of placing it in a cemetery she is arrested and the headstone lies broken.

The narrative is disjointed, jumping between unfinished stories. This is reflective of history itself, pieced together but never complete. So many stories left untold, like the histories of those affected by the Katyn massacre. Stuart Rintoul (The Australian 23/07/08) writes of the murdered officers’ children who were deeply moved by a viewing of the film. He quotes Krzysztof Lancucki (the son of one of the Kaytn victims), president of the Polish Community Council of Victoria, who said the film “shocked something very deep inside me”.

For those expecting a documentary, this is not it. There is minimal use of archival footage, as Wajda’s film focuses on human stories rather than historical details. For example, there is no allusion to the fact that the entire thing was designed by Beria or any explanation of how the truth about the massacre was eventually exposed. It is a fictional rendering of how the atrocity affected a few individuals. In this way it is powerful. It is not Wajda’s best work (Kanal, for example has a much tighter structure which provokes a greater identification with the central characters) but is an important contribution to historical cinema.

The film’s conclusion re-enacts the murder of the Polish officers and Wajda produces a grim realistic minimalism, avoiding sentimentalising the scene with any background music. The butchery of the Soviet is evident as officer after officer is mercilessly shot and disposed of, in scenes evoking the coldness of a factory manufacturing line. The film ends with a silent black screen allowing the audience a moment’s reflection on what they have just witnessed. The blackness of Katyn lingers long after the final image.

Beata £ukasiak