The greatest movie ever.
How's that for a contention? However, if we look at it through purely cinematic terms, it is clear that Three Colours Red is a masterpiece. It is not enough to merely say this - Three Colours Red is the masterpiece of world cinema. If you accept that Citizen Kane is not human enough, if you accept that Star Wars is not actually very good, if you accept that Ozu and Mizoguchi both have to take a step back - then Three Colours Red is the foremost masterpiece of all time. As a discussion into human morality, Three Colours Red works on an intensely metaphysical level, with a depth that none can match. Blue went almost as far into the human psyche, but stopped as it was going to pull the rabbit out of the hat. White forced us to reflect on the humanity of equality - this, in retrospect, was better still, but still not quite there. Red, however, is the real thing. What he expresses in this movie, is an expression of what it is to be human. In fact, what he expresses is _how_ it is to feel human. It forces us to examine up to the minutest detail, the very nature of our souls, of our ethical selves. In Red, one may find meaning on one of its several levels. On the first level, Red achieves a high level of verisimilitude - we could have no trouble in calling Red an exceptionally entertaining story. However, the coincidences inherent in the film and its conceits force us to examine the movie as a movie. It is as if Kieslowski is saying: "Ceci n'est pas la réalité". In effect, in pursuing a humanistic goal, Kieslowski can also challenge reality. It is a trick that Kieslowski has been attempting since Le Double Vie de Véronique, but not until this, his final film, did he finally manage to reach this divine intertwining of fate, philosophy and circumstance. The actors and actresses, too, appear to be at the mercy of a greater power. Valentine (Irène Jacob), is aptly name, for she seems to represent an almost pure love. Meanwhile, the idea of first impressions is challenged by Jean-Louis Tritignant's Judge Kern, a cantankerous man, who, by the end, becomes an almost all-knowing observer of events - a character who symbolically seems to possess the power to bring characters together - a power to make people happy, a power which he could only achieve through Valentine.
We have a capability to see films as more than just a series of pictures. In fact, films have the potential to possess more meaning than literature. It won't happen, of course, but at least we have the power to view this film, knowing that it gives us the power to achieve the something that we can't define, but all possess. A synopsis of this film read: "A film about a woman who runs over a dog". Well, it is.
Isn't it?
-Simon Huxtable