Director: Piotr Szulkin
Screenplay: Piotr Szulkin, Tadeusz Sobolewski
Based on a Novel by: Gustav Meyrink
Starring: Marek Walczewski, Krystyna Janda, Joanna Zólkowska, Mariusz Dmochowski, Wieslaw Drzewicz, Anna Jaraczówna
Country: Poland
Running Time: 93 min
Year: 1979
BBFC Certificate: 15
Piotr Szulkin was an unusual figure among Polish filmmakers during his active time as a director. Whilst his Łódź Film School contemporaries made social dramas during the brief but influential ‘cinema of moral anxiety’ movement, Szulkin produced twisted, enigmatic science-fiction films with arthouse sensibilities and grim views of where society was leading.
Golem was Szulkin’s debut feature and is the first film in what has been dubbed his ‘apocalypse tetralogy’ or his ‘asocial fiction’ tetralogy, as the director himself put it. The other films in the series include The War of the Worlds: Next Century (a.k.a. Wojna światów – następne stulecie), O-Bi, O-Ba: The End of Civilization (a.k.a. O-Bi, O-Ba. Koniec cywilizacji) and Ga-Ga: Glory to the Heroes (a.k.a. Ga, Ga. Chwała bohaterom).
Radiance Films released the other three entries to the tetralogy on Blu-ray in a boxset entitled ‘The End of Civilization’. I’ve seen two of those, The War of the Worlds and Ga-Ga, and thought they were superb. So, when Second Run announced they’d be releasing Golem on Blu-ray, I was thrilled. Needless to say, I got hold of a copy and my thoughts follow.
Golem is a loose adaptation of the classic Jewish legend of the Golem and Gustav Meyrink’s novel of the same name. The film takes place in a post-apocalyptic world though, where the government is trying to rebuild society. Scientists are creating artificial humans and one of these is Pernat (Marek Walczewski), a man with no memory of his past. Pernat is kind and gentle but he is also naive and easily manipulated. He gets caught up in a bewildering web of intrigue and violence as he tries to find his place in the world.
Golem is an elusive film that plays out like a fever dream rather than providing a clear narrative. The audience, in a way, is put in the shoes of their protagonist, who doesn’t seem to know who he is or what he is doing there.
The film is rife with metaphors and symbolism that damn modern society, particularly the mass media. Though the Jewish roots of the original Golem story are never explicitly mentioned, there are numerous allusions to the Holocaust in the film too.
There’s also more than a hint of Kafka here, in the way our protagonist is shuffled around a confusing world, oblivious to what he should be doing.
Unlike most science-fiction films, the setting isn’t obviously futuristic. Most scenes take place in or around gloomy, dilapidated buildings that could be from any point in time, though not one we’d particularly want to be in.
I won’t lie, much of the meanings behind the confusing goings-on in the film were lost on me. I put much of this down to my lack of knowledge of Polish history. However, for the historically and politically illiterate, like myself, the film remains effective and intoxicating through its thick atmosphere and striking visuals. Zygmunt Samosiuk shot the film and he makes stunning use of light, shadow and colour throughout. The minimalist but often heightened sound design also adds to the sense of unease.
There’s some twisted humour lurking deep in the shadows too, which keeps the grim tale bearable.
I can remember getting a Terry Gilliam vibe from the other two of Szulkin’s films I’d seen and Golem is no different. In particular, I can see a lot of Brazil in there, a film made around 6 years later. Like that film, you have a confounding future where identity has been stripped away and strange people pop in and out of scenes, guiding our protagonist through what often seems like a wild goose chase.
As mentioned, I wasn’t sure what to make of everything whilst watching Golem but I found myself drawn to it regardless. The film definitely warrants repeat viewings and listening to Michael Brooke’s commentary on the disc and reading the essays included in the booklet are highly recommended to get the most of out it. Those with a taste for the unusual and the atmospheric should certainly take the plunge.
Film: 
Golem is out on 24th February on region-free Blu-ray, released by Second Run. The transfer is stunning. It’s pin-sharp and as clean as a whistle. Shadows and textures are beautifully well-handled too. I’ve used screengrabs throughout this review to give you an idea of how it looks. The audio is solid too, though I noticed a strange quality or reverb at times but I’m guessing this was intentional.
BLU-RAY SPECIAL FEATURES
• Golem (1979) presented from a new 2K restoration supervised by its late director Piotr Szulkin and sound engineer Nikodem Wolk-Laniewski.
• All-new audio commentary by producer and Polish cinema expert Michael Brooke.
• Four of Piotr Szulkin’s early short films, newly remastered in HD and presented for the first time anywhere on Blu-ray:
– One, Two, Three (Raz, dwa, trzy, 1972)
– Everything (Wszystko, 1972)
– A Sketch in Six Parts (Szkic do sześciu części, 1973)
– Copyright Film Polski MCMLXXVI (1976)
• Piotr Szulkin’s annotated script and storyboard gallery for Copyright Film Polski MCMLXXVI
• 20-page booklet featuring essays by Michał Oleszczyk and Tomasz Kolankiewicz.
• New and improved English subtitle translation.
• Region Free (A/B/C) Blu-ray.
Michael Brooke provides a commentary over the film. You can tell he’s done his homework when he begins his track describing the background of the font used in the opening credits. He occasionally describes what’s going on on screen, which is usually a bugbear of mine but in this cryptic film it’s welcome and Brooke digs into the meaning of some of the unusual activity on screen. He analyses the film in great detail throughout, often discussing how scenes are described in Szulkin’s novella adaptation of the original ‘Golem’ story, which was written before the screenplay.
Also included are several short films by Szulkin. One, Two, Three is an offbeat view of Poland’s counter-culture. Everything is a hypnotic abstract short that makes rubbish collecting look strangely beautiful. A Sketch in Six Parts is a cyclical tale with flashes of the French New Wave in its following of a young man and his interactions, underpinned by readings from Dashiell Hammett. Finally, Copyright Film Polski MCMLXXVI is a stripped-back allegorical piece that simply shows an apple being slowly crushed in a vice before being replaced by a rotten one at the end.
In the booklet, Tomasz Kolankiewicz provides some background to Szulkin and the film in his essay. Michał Oleszczyk takes a similar approach, so there’s a little crossover but not enough for either piece to lose any value. Their essays greatly assisted my writing of this review.
So, it’s an excellent package that easily warrants a purchase.
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