Weronika and Veronique are two separate people who have never met, share no genetic history, and whose lives only cross momentarily through the lens of a camera. Yet each feels that another half exists, a divine bond unbroken by distance or time, that they are not alone in this vast existential cosmos. Kieslowski’s film is divided like these twin personalities: The first half hour follows Weronika, a Polish singer whose beautiful life ends abruptly during an operatic performance. The final hour is an intimate portrayal of Veronique, a French music teacher and her slow spiral into spiritual malaise. She feels empty, as if a vital element has been lost. Her relationship with a puppeteer reflects her loss of identity: this slow insidious manipulation reshapes her into a new wooden form.
Kieslowski films with many color filters, he drenches the mise-en-scene with golden hues, cold blues, and lush greens. These colors are prismatic reflections of their innermost feelings: emotions given form and substance. Though the film lacks formal structure, it is not meant to be a linear narrative: this is the abstract portrayed at 24 frames-per-second, accompanied by the music of dreams. Final Grade: (A)
