TEARS OF THE DARK PRINCE

1936. In a Poland haunted by the spectre of impending war, a novelist’s inspiration is fed by obsessive nightmares. With chilling force, they evoke human sacrifices performed in an obscure corner of another era. When a hotel detective rescues the writer from a mysterious murder attempt, the story bursts open. The assailant dissolves into the night and the case is filed without consequence. The police, the secret services of various countries and other disputed and dubious organisations then take a remarkable interest in the young woman and her private life. During all this, the sinister shadow of the imminent world fire creeps over East and West.

Far removed from the metaphysical esotericism of his fellow countrymen, director Marek Piestrak has always had a healthy interest in the great popular myths of film. The Tears of the Dark Prince is a homage to the American film noir of the 1940s. We witness a search (as in Howard Hawks’ The Big Sleep), led by a shabby detective with a floppy felt hat, that takes us to shady atmospheres, lit in shadows. You can recognise here one of the characteristics of fantasy, made in Warsaw: a psychoanalytical metaphor for historical and political realities. The scenario frighteningly describes the climate that preceded the signing of the Molotov-Von Ribbentrop pact, the diabolical alliance between Hitler and Stalin. Also, worth mentioning is the beautiful expressionist animation that adorns the generic and in which everyone will be able to find something to their liking.