Polish film director Malgorzata Szumowska (born in Krakow on February 26, 1973) is a favorite child of the Berlinale: she won the Teddy Award from the LGBT jury for the film In the Name Of in 2013, followed by the Silver Bear for Best Director for the picture Body in 2015. This time, she brought to the event a tragicomedy provocatively named Mug (Twarz), which tells the story of Jacek, a handsome villager who has literally lost her face: it became deformed after he fell during the construction of a tallest-ever statue of Christ. His bride turns away from him, his mother believes him to be possessed by the devil, and children start teasing him in the street.
Szumowska adheres to liberal, secular beliefs, and her intentions are quickly becoming apparent, as she aims to ridicule dogmatic Catholic morality, patriarchal parochial customs, and unbridled consumerism. She shows ordinary people in all the unattractiveness of their simplicity, ranging from a “naked” supermarket sale scene in the prologue to xenophobic jokes told at the dinner table; the director does not spare clergymen either, like in the scene of confession in which the priest questions the young sinner about the details of her sin. And although it shows a lot of pain, Mug is still a funny movie. It is funny and angry.
After the festival premiere, Szumowska met with the press.
Let us start from the very beginning – from the film’s opening scene in the supermarket. Is this an allegory of capitalism in Poland?
“Absolutely, it is kind of an allegory of what happened in Poland after 1989, it’s like a hunger for having material things, for having money. Maybe it will change in the new generation, but still, something like this exists in Poland. Here it’s somehow popular on YouTube – those kinds of films, where people are running because something is on sale, like, for example, crocs in Lidl, or wallets in Biedronka, and then people get really crazy about that. It’s a sign, it’s a hunger that I have said about before, which we still have, and I am also like this, I’m afraid.”
The camera work in your movies is incredible. Tell us a little more about it.
“Michal Englert is not only a cinematographer, Misza – we call him Misza – is also a screenwriter. From a very early stage we were working together. I think the way we did this film is also connected with the Polish landscape, with the Polish painting from the Romantic period. Also, we wanted to create a movie which would look a little bit like a fairy-tale, something which is not only extremely realistic, something which is a metaphor – a metaphor of Poland nowadays, but not only Poland, because I think that kind of situation is in many countries right now. But we did not want to make a movie which is a kind of publicystyczne, with the journalistic tone. We wanted to make something which is, I would say, maybe more symbolic, but still, with this ironical touch, not heavy. That’s why we have chosen a special way of filming.”
Talking about principal photography, the makeup of Mateusz Kosciukiewicz, who played the protagonist, is also worth mentioning...
“Behind the mask, he was overacting, something I somehow hate as a director. And then the mask stopped this, then everything concentrated only in the eyes, and I think this is interesting. But they spent like four hours each day to do the makeup. It was extremely tiring, but there was also a funny story connected with this, because the guy who prepared the mask in London, said the longest period that actor can stay in the mask is seven hours, and of course in Poland, we were shooting like fifteen hours a day, and then Mateusz spent fifteen hours each day in the mask. And they could not believe that: ‘It is only a Polish guy who could manage it,’ you know.”
The story ridicules the village community and religion a lot. Don’t you think that the film will become scandalous in Poland?
“(Laughs.) I don’t know. It’s very hard to predict. Probably the opening scene might be a little bit, I would say, controversial, but probably not only that one, but we also made this movie with a big tenderness. I like my characters, it’s not like I’m judging them or I’m laughing at them. But what I am doing, I’m showing how it is in Poland, especially in province, where people are living that way, but paradoxically, they’re happy that they are living that way, and they are proud of living that way. And Catholic Church still has a very big power in Poland. It might be problematic, but I think in general Polish people are like this, they are reacting sometimes very nervously to the critic of the Polish society. We see what is going on now in politics. Everything shows that problem – that we can’t stand the criticism. And what I am doing is I’m actually putting the questions. But I think that’s my duty to do that.
“Our protagonist was different in the first part, and even more different in the second. It’s about the difference, about the ‘others,’ that society is sometimes afraid of the ‘others.’ That’s the metaphor I wanted to show somehow.”
What did you mean when introducing the motive of the character’s “Satanism” in the film?
“This we did as a kind of joke, because it’s very often that the Polish priests say such kind of things: ‘If you are listening to metal music, you are going to be punished by the God.’”
The depiction of exorcism in the film is truly interesting. It is said that there has been a boom in this area in Poland over the last few years. Could you tell us a bit more about it? Also, what about the scene where the mother-in-law is afraid that her daughter might bear children who will end up looking like the protagonist. How widespread are these views in Poland, or have you exaggerated it?
“If I exaggerate? No. We did the research, and some numbers are very shocking: how many exorcisms are done each year in Poland. I can’t tell you now those numbers, but you can google, and I think there’s really a bunch of them. I mean, it’s very popular, and from one year to another there are more and more priests-exorcists in Poland. It’s a little bit ridiculous, but that’s exactly like it is: people believe in exorcism, people believe in this kind of rituals, it’s crazy somehow. You can check on YouTube – they are existing in movies filmed by iPhones. That’s why we are using the iPhone by kind of a real exorcism. Then, I’m not exaggerating, I think. Another question – that the woman is afraid that the kids will be born with the face – yes, it sometimes happens that people say such strange things. Some people are not very educated, I would say, and they really believe in that kind of strange combination.”
We talked about possible reception of this film in Poland, and I now wonder, who is going to give you money for your next film?
“(Laughs.) Germany. I count on Germans, but to be honest, I’m a little bit worried, of course – you never know, somehow. There are big changes in the Polish film industry, but they are just going on now, then it’s hard to say what they’ll bring exactly. I think this film might create kind of tension in Poland, I’m sure. But I’m also sure that probably the conservative wing won’t be very happy with the movie, but I’m still counting on that maybe it will be still space to make frank free cinematography. Let’s see what the next month, the next year will bring. That’s what I can say.”
This film features prominently the idea of the crisis of personality. When you were writing the screenplay, did you think about it?
“Yeah, we just whispered about this: about identity, about losing identity, about problems with identity nowadays in the countries like Poland. Because Poland is a very different country than France or whatever, because it’s really fresh – 25 years of democracy is not a lot, and mentality is really structured by what happened in the past. Nowadays, people don’t know exactly with which values they have to be identified. It’s very hard to find a mirror for the society, it’s very hard to find a balance. Also there is a new society in Poland, the middle class, something which never happened before – it’s created now. And probably my next movie is going to describe the Polish middle-class society, which is, I think, completely in-between: they really don’t know if they are Catholics, or if they are not Catholics, if they are still attached to the Church or not, still attached to the tradition or more attached to Europe – it’s the problem of identity, I would say.”
Back to the perception of the other. Mug’s characters are almost mocking Muslims and Roma. Is not Poland losing its face because of this film?
“No, I don’t think, actually. It’s losing totally its face, because it’s a bias as I said. I am talking about these people with some kind of tenderness, I am not judging them. There are those kinds of behavior in each society, not only in Polish society. But I would say it’s my kind of duty to describe Poland nowadays with all problems we have. We have strong problems with the others and we are very afraid of unknown, then why not to picture that? But I don’t think I am blaming Polish people that they are making such jokes. You know, there are so many people making such jokes, it’s not very good, of course. But I can tell you, the Polish society is strong.”
Can we say that the fate of the protagonist is a generalization of the fates of people with disabilities, or does he exist to provoke the response of his environment? After all, this is a completely new dimension for most viewers.
“Absolutely, yes. We concentrated on how people react to him, not on his story. We chose that on purpose, absolutely. Thank you very much, because that’s exactly what we wanted to give to the people.”
