"The Pianist" is adapted from the memoir of Wladyslaw Szpilman, a Polish pianist, who, while living in the Warsaw Ghetto, manages to escape deportation to a concentration camp and later escapes the Ghetto and survives the war.
You saw "The Pianist" in Warsaw where the film is set. What was it like to see it there?
It's obviously very moving. It's a very powerful movie, and during the movie Warsaw gets essentially turned into a heap of rubble. You walk out of the cinema, and you're almost surprised to see that buildings are there around you--many of them new, but one or two have been restored. You get a vivid sense that this is part of the history of where you are.
What moved you about the story?
It shows the abyss to which people can sink and also, to some extent, the heights of heroism people can rise to. It also showed the chance elements in survival--how much it was a matter of luck whether you did or didn't survive.
There have been accounts of the Holocaust that dress it up in one way or another, put a particular slant on it. This didn't. It didn't try to show all Jews as heroes either, since there was obviously a lot of nasty, corrupt stuff going on in the ghetto. That's probably what it was like--that's what human nature is like under these circumstances.
How did the Polish audience react to it?
They were clearly moved. Most of the audience was too young to [remember the events], so to some extent they were learning their own history. There's been an intensive discussion there of Poles' role, particularly because of the book "Neighbors" [by Jan Tomasz Gross], in the killing of Jews. The movie shows accurately that some Poles called the police to take Jews away and others risked their lives to save them. Without Polish help, Szpilman could not have survived.
What would you say to those, including Elie Wiesel, who maintain that it's wrong to depict the Holocaust in film, because you can't possibly recreate the true horror?
In one sense that's a truism: you can't have the people in the cinema starving and fearful that if they don't salute the next general passing, they'll get punched in the head or shot. But we do want people to know something about this. Given the fact that there are people who go to movies and don't read books, I think [Holocaust movies] are a positive thing. Even if they don't know exactly what it was like, they'll know something about it.
Do you think it's fair to tell the story of someone who survived the Holocaust, as most movies about the Holocaust tend to do, considering how many died?
If he hadn't survived, he wouldn't have told his tale, and we wouldn't know what happened. In my own book, the central character doesn't survive, but because my grandmother did, we have an account of what happened to him.
What we get from "The Pianist" is that yes, Szpilman survived, but his entire family perished, and that's probably about what the odds were. No one could leave that film getting the impression that most people survived. I don't think there's anything wrong with telling the story through the eyes of someone who did survive.
Their lives were very similar and different. It was different in the suddenness with which Nazism came to Poland. There wasn't time for people to leave. In my grandparents's case, there was a period, after the initial turbulence, after the Anschluss, when things had calmed down, when it seemed like perhaps Jews could live a quiet, restricted life in reasonable conditions under the Nazis.
But in the end, I guess my grandparents' experience was not that different. Thereisenstadt was not that different to the Warsaw Ghetto, I suppose. It was much smaller, but it was also very overcrowded, there was a lot of starvation, and people were being shipped out to their deaths.
When Szpilman thanks a German who helped him, the soldier replies, "Don't thank me, thank God you're still alive." Do you think your grandfather's religious views would have changed had he survived? Is this kind of faith possible after the Holocaust?
I don't think so. I guess my evidence is that my grandmother, who was religious, changed in the opposite direction. She didn't become an atheist, but she ceased to follow Jewish Orthodox law, she ceased to have a kosher diet. I quote her remark in the book: "If God lets a man as good as my husband die, I'm not going to follow his laws."