Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #256175 in DVD
• Rating: R (Restricted)
• Aspect ratio: 1.78:1
• Number of discs: 1
• Format: PAL
• Original language: French, Polish
• Subtitled in: English
• Running time: 91 minutes

Amazon.com
White is the second of witty Polish director Krzysztof Kieslowki's "three colors" trilogy Blue, White, and Red--the three colors of the French flag, symbolizing liberty, equality, and fraternity. White is an ironic comedy brimming over with the hard laughs of despair, ecstasy, ambition, and longing played in a minor key.

Down-and-out Polish immigrant Karol Karol is desperate to get out of France. He's obsessed with his French soon-to-be ex-wife (Before Sunrise's Julie Delpy), his French bank account is frozen, and he's fed up with the inequality of it all. Penniless, he convinces a fellow Pole to smuggle him home in a suitcase--which then gets stolen from the airport. The unhappy thieves beat him and dump him in a snowy rock pit. Things can only get better, right? The story evolves into a wickedly funny antiromance, an inverse Romeo and Juliet. Because it's in two foreign languages, the dialogue can be occasionally hard to follow, but some of the most genuinely funny and touching moments need no verbal explanation. --Grant Balfour

From The New Yorker
The second in Krzysztof Kieslowski's "Three Colors" trilogy-"Blue" was released here in 1993, and "Red" was recently screened at the Cannes festival-is the story of a Chaplinesque Polish Everyman named Karol Karol (Zbigniew Zamachowski). The picture traces his progress from utter ignominy, in Paris, to a strange kind of personal power, which he acquires in the unsettled new society of his homeland. Kieslowski has abandoned the elegantly abstract style and enigmatic tones of his recent work and has adopted instead a folksy-picaresque manner, which doesn't suit him. Mysteriously, this great filmmaker lacks the mundane skills to keep us interested in a story that has no real spiritual dimension: the characters are monotonous, the storytelling isn't clear, and the images look flat, merely functional. In this picture Kieslowski isn't searching for immanence: everything has only its face value, and you feel as if a light had gone out in the world. Also with Julie Delpy. In Polish and French. -Terrence Rafferty
Copyright © 2006 The New Yorker

Customer Reviews

First Among Equals
In downtown Warsaw, where so much of "White" is set, there was an electric sign celebrating Poland's recent release from the Iron Curtain of communism by praising Bill Clinton and splashing around an American flag. The electric sign, though, was not like the monumental Panasonic sign in New York's Times Square. Rather it was more comparable to the signs composed of light bulbs that can be found in major league baseball stadiums. I thought of that sign many times throughout "White," how meager it looked in a nation already so deprived. "White" deals with the disillusionment and failure of one man who represents the disappointment of a nation. When the protagonist, Karol, returns to Warsaw from Paris, after being rejected and betrayed by his French wife, Dominique, through divorce and infidelity, and by the French court, whom Karol believes has cheated him in the divorce by giving him nothing because he cannot speak French (both a clear metaphor for the West's disregard of Poland), he is greeted by a city where bands of thieves roam the land like the Middle Ages, and gangster capitalists own everything and can buy anything. Karol then aspires to become part of this amoral ruling class, thereby becoming more equal than anybody else. In "White," besides the inequitable wealth between Karol and his fellow Polish countrymen, there is an intricate interplay between the affluence of the West and the lowered expectations of Poland. In Paris, Karol and is wife owned a clean well-lit salon, but back in Warsaw, his brother's salon has little more than a gaudy electric sign to distinguish it from the days of communist rule, and it is located along a muddy, unpaved road. A loan shark, who hires Karol to protect him, gives Karol what amounts to a cap gun as his weapon. And even an expensive office building in downtown Warsaw only has a few phone jacks. This comparison is perhaps Kieslowski's message that there is no perfect equality, either within a nation (as demonstrated through both Karol's amassed wealth and influence, and the discrimination against his at the hands of the French judicial system) or between nations. Kieslowski also suggests, through the relationship between Karol and Dominique, that perhaps love can bridge this gap.

A film of love & divorce, life & death
This film is the second in Krzysztof Kieslowski's "Trois Couleurs" trilogy ("Blue," "White," and "Red," after the colors of the French flag). While it contains some quite surprising plot twists, overall it doesn't have the same emotional impact as the first and last movies do.

Zbigniew Zamachowski plays Karol Karol, a Polish immigrant living in Paris with his wife, Dominique (Julie Delpy). As the film opens, Karol and Dominique are in divorce court; she wants the divorce, he doesn't. She wins, and he is left with nothing but a large suitcase -- in which he manages to send himself back to Poland, with unexpected results.

While white is traditionally the color of marriage, in this film it is the color of divorce. Throughout the movie the sky is a bleak, almost colorless shade of white, reflecting Karol's mood. The divorce proceedings take place in a white marble courtyard, and after the hearing Dominique drives away in a white car. When Karol returns to Poland, the countryside is buried under a layer of snow. More than that, the color symbolizes the sterility of their marriage: Dominique's grounds for divorce are that the marriage has never been consummated.

For the rest of the film, Karol struggles to rebuild his life and to win back Dominique. The movie is enjoyable, with highly original subplots. The actors turn in fine performances, and the direction (as one would expect from Kieslowski) is intriguing without being heavy-handed. However, for a film that focuses on such emotional topics as love and death, it fails to rouse intense emotions in the viewer. END

I'm a tough film sell but this was sensational
I'm not an easy consumer of films---I've never seen E.T., nor Jaws nor Jurassic Park, nor most of the Indiana Jones films, my interests are most esoteric, creative. I slept thru the day and subsequently wa sup teh night with nothing to do so I dug out my video tapes that I hadn't seen yet. First Blue and then White. White is amazing. Little Karol is heartbreaking adorable and ... and as he progresses through the film becomes almost dynamic, ..., charismatic with the power he soon weilds. He's a simple man, simply in love with a woman who may or not have married him to bilk him---I wa snever quite clear if she saw an opportunity with this renowned Polish hairdresser or if he truly failed her in the marriage. She makes much of his impotence but it seems to stem from his worship and adore for her that he doesn't want to sully her with carnmal passions. Unfortunately she's a carnal woman. Finally Karol gets himself sent back to Poland in a suitcase (hilarious by itself) and goes to work for the quasi-Polish mob and eventually tricks them. What I appreciated most about this film was that Karol is not a dumb man, nor is he a loser, he's simply a man too far in love with someone who doesn't appreciate the depth of that love. Yet what make sthe film a masterstroke is the otherside that love comes out to---there is indeed a thin line between love and hate. The way the plot itself meanders, self aware of it's destination with only vague hints as to its' intentions also make this a triumph. Karol's love-revenge at the end is so subtle, so devilishly simple and yet a true, true comeuppance to this woman that it realizes itself as giving her what she wants, what she needs and then makes her ask for what he wants. If you love someone you set them free but if you adore someone you create a huge White space within their consciousness about ones self. Domonique will never, ever forget not truly begin to fathom Karol and how he loved her. It just occured to me that perhaps certain peopel don't understand love and must be put away for teh sake of those who love too much---another meditation on this film. Yes, I will be sending it to Aisha the Actress.