Lenten Reflections from Dekalog (1989)

Krzysztof Kieślowski’s Dekalog (1989) is widely considered one of the greatest television programs ever made and Kieślowski’s greatest cinematic achievement. It aired on television, but it’s not a conventional television series or anthology. It’s really a collection of 10 films all working towards a unified theme, which is how the Ten Commandments and the notion of spiritual law operates in the mundane, modern world, particularly the Poland of late-communism in the 1980s.

I revisited Dekalog this year as part of my Lenten reflections. When the COVID-19 pandemic arrived in the midst of Lent, forcing the entire world to rethink what is essential, I took the opportunity of a pause in normal life to ponder some of the lessons of Dekalog and how the 10 films interact with the Gospels and particularly Christ’s teaching to his disciples. It’s abundantly clear that the Ten Commandments are the main biblical reference point for the films, but Dekalog is not rooted in Jewish spiritual thought. The films’ lessons and spiritual reflections seem more Christian than Jewish, even if both traditions use parables; they’re constructed scenarios that offer oblique lessons about life and moral meaning rooted through 2,000 years of Christian thought.

This being the case, I thought I’d offer some Christian reflections on Dekalog and the 10 films’ engagement with the Gospels. The following is not so much an essay as a collection of observations and reflections on Kieślowski’s films and a selection of biblical verses. I’ve paid special attention to Christ’s parables and how each film interacts with a specific parable or part of the Gospels, offering reflection on said parable or verse. To remain consistent with Polish tradition, I’ve referred to the Ten Commandments in their Roman Catholic order. If you are unfamiliar with the parables, or uninterested in biblical discussions, I hope you’ll at least find some evidence of Dekalog’s spiritual importance within the Western tradition and its dialogue with key biblical texts and ideas.

Dekalog: One

The devastating first entry follows the tight-knit relationship between a father and a son. The father, Krzysztof (Henryk Baranowski), is a university professor and an atheist. The son, Pawel (Wojciech Klata), is a curious 12-year-old boy, who is drawn to emulate his father, even as his aunt, Irena (Maja Komorowska), teaches him about God. Krzysztof and Pawel bond over their home computer (a rare possession in the 1980s), so when Pawel knows he’s getting a pair of skates for Christmas, they use the computer to calculate the thickness of the ice on the pond near their apartment complex. The computer says that the ice is more than thick enough to skate on, but such faith in a machine proves unfounded as Pawel breaks through the ice and drowns while skating with his friend. Krzysztof is left heartbroken and alone, and in the final moments of the film, he flees to a church under construction, where he prays in grief and fury. He knocks over the altar in anger, causing a candle to spill wax onto an icon of the Virgin Mary, making it appear as if the Virgin Mary is crying, but he doesn’t notice the divine image of mercy, instead thrusting his hand into the frozen holy water, attempting to cross himself with what little moisture he can get.

It’s clear that Dekalog: One uses the First Commandment, “You shall have no other gods before me,” as its thematic inspiration, but there is more to the film than a simple injunction about the precariousness of faith in worldly things such as a computer. For one, the frozen holy water seems to confirm that God’s love is distant at this moment. But there is also great irony in the fact that Krzysztof does not notice the icon of the Virgin Mary, as such a recognition would remind him of God’s love for him. Instead, he’s left in the cold. There’s an element of Ingmar Bergman’s obsession with the silence of God in the film’s conclusion, but God is only silent because Krzysztof will not pay attention.

As well, what are we to make of the main character sharing the same name as Kieślowski? Does Kieślowski mean to align himself with Krzysztof? Perhaps we are to read the film’s grief as personal to Kieślowski himself, but Kieślowski would never operate in such a simplistic way. The metaphysical opacity of Dekalog is one of its essential characteristics.

When confronting the film’s ending, which has Krzysztof approaching God after it’s too late to save Pawel, I’m drawn to two parables in the Gospel of Matthew that offer contradictory methods of reading this moment. One is the Parable of the Laborers in the Vineyard (Matthew 20:1-16), which says that even those individuals that come to faith at the 11th hour will be rewarded with the Kingdom of God, meaning both inclusion in the body of believers in the present and life everlasting after death. Surely, this means that even Krzysztof’s turn to God is not too late. But just because he might reap the reward of the kingdom does not mean that his faith would have saved Pawel within this temporal reality. Again, the promise of the kingdom does not always extend to this life.

The other passage is the Parable of the Ten Virgins, where five virgins bring oil for their lamps and another five do not, all of whom are made to wait for the bridegroom before the wedding feast. When their lamps burn out from waiting, the five virgins who did not bring extra oil have to go to get some to relight their lamps and thus miss the wedding feast with the bridegroom. They are too late. Is Krzysztof too late to share in the kingdom? Would he have been spared Pawel’s death had he not put his faith in the computer, or is it simply a cruel irony that his faith in science betrays him when it’s most deadly to do so? Dekalog: One is the film in the series that I think about the most, which is reflected in the extra space I’ve taken to muse upon its spiritual lessons.

Dekalog: Two

Dorota (Krystyna Janda) goes to her Doctor (Aleksander Bardini) and tells him that she is pregnant by a man who is not her husband. Her husband is currently in the hospital and may soon die. Desperate to gain control over her situation, she begs the Doctor to tell her whether her husband will live or die. She knows that if he lives, she’ll have to abort the child, but if he dies, she can keep the child and live with her lover abroad. But the Doctor refuses to answer until a time when it’s too late to abort. This forces her to keep the child even as her husband miraculously recovers.

Dekalog: Two presents a moral conundrum so elegant in its ethical conflict that Kieslowski uses its scenario as an example in an ethics class at the start of Dekalog: Eight. Unlike Dekalog: One or Dekalog: Five, Dekalog: Two is dealing with more than one of the Ten Commandments. But it’s main conflict stems from the Second Commandment: “You shall not take the name of the Lord your God in vain,” since the Doctor has to swear by God when he finally tells Dorota that her husband will die, thus invoking God to lie, which is a sin. However, he also bears false witness in lying to Dorota, who is having an affair in her own right, so we could take the Sixth Commandment—“You shall not commit adultery”— Eighth Commandment—“You shall not bear false witness against your neighbor”—as applying here as well.

The film also does not engage with any single parable, but I am drawn to the Parable of the Talents (Matthew 25:14-30), because I see a connection between the Doctor and the servant who receives the one talent who “dug in the ground and hid his master’s money” only to be rebuked by his master for not investing the talent and making more of it than was given him.

The Doctor refuses to engage with Dorota because he does not want to influence her decision, but that very refusal is itself a kind of influence, since he holds sway over her with his withholding of information. He wants to have no moral responsibility for her decision, but by trying to remove himself from the situation, he invariably changes it, like a scientist who enters his own experiment (the “observation effect” in physics). Thus, like the servant who receives one talent, he does not want the responsibility of what is given him and thus deserves rebuke for his refusal. The fascinating thing about Dekalog: Two is that Kieślowski seems more fascinated with the Doctor’s moral connundrum than Dorota’s potential abortion; clearly, according to the film, the weight of moral responsibility falls on him, not her.

Dekalog: Three

Ewa (Maria Pakulnis) arrives at the doorstep of her former lover, Janusz (Daniel Olbrychski) on Christmas Eve, begging him to come help her find her husband. However, her husband is not missing and Ewa is simply using his supposed disappearance as a means of getting Janusz to spend Christmas Eve with her, fearing that she would commit suicide if she couldn’t spend the holiday with him. Eventually, Ewa reveals that she is no longer married and has been lying to Janusz, and Janusz returns to his wife (Joanna Szczepkowska), who suspects that he has been with Ewa this entire time.

Dekalog: Three does not include the same kind of ethical confrontation as the first two films in the series, but it does clearly engage with the Third Commandment: “Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy.” The film explores the moral dimension of holy days and how we choose to spend them. The film also engages with the Sixth Commandment: “You shall not commit adultery.” Thus, Ewa and Janusz have sullied the holy day by allowing sin (adultery) to enter into their celebration of it. But ironically, Ewa also reveres the day by giving it the power to determine her life or death; her impiety has granted it a holiness above mere ceremony.

In the Gospels, Jesus rarely speaks of the Sabbath, but he does specifically discuss it in Matthew 12, when his disciples eat heads of grain on the Sabbath and are rebuked by the Pharisees. Jesus discusses how David and his men ate food in the tabernacle when they were hungry, breaking the Sabbath, and how priests break the Sabbath within the temple each week. He then rebukes the Pharisees and says that “if you had known what this means, I desire mercy, and not sacrifice, you would not have condemned the guiltless.” I’m struck by the word “guiltless” and what it means for Ewa and Janusz, who are assuredly guilty of adultery in the past, but perhaps not of breaking the Sabbath or defiling a holy day in the present. In fact, as I outlined above, perhaps Ewa has perversely sanctified the day and filled it with a significance that fulfills its spirit even as it breaks moral laws. As usual, Kieślowski is not lecturing on morality, but revealing and reminding us of the complexities that enter our everyday application of it.

Dekalog: Four

Dekalog: Four examines the intimate relationship between Anka (Adrianna Biedrznska) and her father Michal (Janusz Gajos), and the Freudian passions unleashed by doubt over their familial bonds. When Michal goes away on a business trip, Anka discovers a letter from her dead mother, which she believes indicates that Michal is not her biological father. So when Michal returns from his trip, she confronts him with this information, throwing their familial relationship into jeopardy and forcing him to confess jealousy over her and her boyfriends. However, Anka eventually realizes that it doesn’t matter whether Michal is her biological father and destroys the letter from her mother, eliminating the evidence of her true parentage.

It’s obvious that Dekalog: Four deals with the Fourth Commandment: “Honour your father and your mother.” But the form that honour takes is the real question at the heart of the film. By opening the letter from her dead mother, is Anka honouring her wishes, or dishonouring Michal’s wishes—that she waits until after his death to open it? Does the manufactured revelation that Michal may not be Anka’s father reframe the important parental relationship to that of her dead mother and an unknown man who may be her biological father, or does it clarify that the forged bond between Anka and Michal is actually more important than any bloodline shared between them? Does the film celebrate adoption, or show that bloodlines cannot be dismissed when assessing relationships between parents and children?

It’d be tempting to focus entirely on the film’s Freudian themes, including the incestuous attraction between Anka and Michal, but I’m more drawn to the question of parentage and honour, as implied by the commandment. I’m drawn to Jesus’ line in Matthew 23:9: “And call no man your father on earth, for you have one Father, who is in heaven.” Jesus rarely talks about earthly parents, usually focusing on our heavenly Father instead of temporal ones, but when he does mention fathers and mothers, he commands his followers to dismiss them in order to focus on their bond with their heavenly Father. The true bond is that between followers of Christ and those that will inherit the kingdom; lineage does not matter in the Kingdom of God. Thus, with Anka and Michal, the Gospels argue that the blood bond between them is of no importance; they should focus on more important matters of morality and service, and realize that when their lives end, the question of fatherhood no longer matters.

Dekalog: Five

Dekalog: Five is arguably the most celebrated of the films in the series (and one of two expanded into feature length form for theatrical distribution as A Short Film About Killing). It focuses on Jacek (Miroslaw Baka), an angry young drifter who plots the murder of a random taxi driver (Jan Tesarz). Half of the film follows his stalking of his prey and his eventual murder of the taxi driver on the outskirts of Warsaw. The other segment of the plot follows Piotr (Krzsyztof Globisz), an idealistic young lawyer who opposes the death penalty and defends Jacek at his trial. The film ends with Jacek’s execution, depicting the execution in the same painstaking detail that it did the murder of the taxi driver earlier, intimately linking one to the other.

Dekalog: Five is a damning indictment of capital punishment and the most politically-charged film in Dekalog. It takes the Fifth Commandment—“You shall not murder”—and applies it to both Jacek’s murder of the taxi driver, but also the state’s execution of Jacek. For Kieślowski, the commandment applies to both; there is no distinction between the killings (after all, he names the feature length film A Short Film About Killing, not A Short Film About Murder). The possible distinction between “kill” and “murder” in the Fifth Commandment has been one of the most contentious points in the entire Bible, with pacifists arguing for a wide-ranging definition of the word “murder” while the classical interpretation points to the distinction between the two in its meaning. It’s clear which side of this disagreement Kieślowski comes down on. But how do we connect it to the Gospels?

Christ often condemns violence—he tells Peter to put down his sword in the Garden of Gethsemane—even if he often speaks of violence in his eschatological imagery—“I have come not to bring peace, but a sword” (Matthew 10:34). Thus, there can be no doubt that Christ would condemn Jacek’s actions, but it’s less clear what he would think of the state’s vengeance.

I’m drawn to the Parable of the Unforgiving Servant (Matthew 18:23-25) to further explore the position of the film. In the parable, a servant is forgiven his debts by his master, but upon his discharge immediately encounters another servant and demands he pay back his debts, putting the man in prison when the fellow servant refuses to pay him. In the end, the master rebukes the first servant for not forgiving his fellow servant as he had forgiven him. The fellow servant truly does owe the first servant a debt, just as in the film, Jacek truly does have to pay for taking the taxi driver’s life; but the master in the parable does not allow that fact to excuse the actions of the first servant. Thus, the first servant is like the state, forcing the repayment of a debt it does not have the authority to demand; it too is subject to the will of a higher master.

Dekalog: Six

The other most famous entry in the series (and the other expanded into feature length as A Short Film About Love), Dekalog: Six follows young Tomek (Olaf Lubaszenko), who uses a telescope to spy on the beautiful older woman, Magda (Grażyna Szapołowska), in her apartment across the way each night. He watches her trysts with various lovers, but eventually inserts himself into her life, alerting her to the fact of his watching her. Magda then lures him over, playing to his fantasy of an erotic night with her, only to humiliate him with his sexual inexperience. Ashamed, Tomek attempts suicide, which forces Magda to confront her own cruelty. In the end, Tomek recovers and he and Magda go back to normal approximations of their own lives, with Tomek telling her that he no longer watches her.

Dekalog: Six is one of cinema’s most famous tales of voyeurism, while also drawing on cinema’s long thematic tradition of voyeurism as well. It focuses on the Sixth Commandment, “You shall not commit adultery,” and all the biblical associations that come with it. Thus, it’s obvious to draw the connection to the Sermon on the Mount, during which Jesus says that “everyone who looks at a woman with lustful intent has already committed adultery with her in his heart. If your right eye causes you to sin, tear it out and throw it away. For it is better that you lose one of your members than your whole body be thrown into hell” (Matthew 5:28-29).

You can almost take Dekalog: Six as a literal examination of what happens when a man does not follow Jesus’s teaching, as Tomek watches Madga with lustful intent each night. His eye, which he uses to watch her through his telescope, causes him to sin, and the actions that he takes as a consequence of such lying almost cost him his life. Thus, if Tomek were to have torn out his eye in order to quit spying on Magda, would he have been spared such hardship? Perhaps Kieślowski and his fellow filmmakers thought so, as the poster for A Short Film About Love, the feature-length theatrical version of the film, shows Tomek with a heart nailed into his eyes, showing clearly that his eyes are the root of his suffering.

Dekalog: Seven

Dekalog: Seven follows a young woman, Majka (Maja Barelkowska), who kidnaps her daughter, Ania (Katarzyna Piwowarccyk), who believes that Majka is actually her older sister. It turns out that when Majka was a student, she had an affair with Wojtek (Boguslaw Linda), a teacher at her mother Ewa’s (Anna Polony) school. Ewa, no longer able to have children, raised Ania as her own, which also spared Majka and Wojtek the embarrassment of scandal. But as she grows up, Majka wants to reclaim her motherhood and wants Ania to know the truth of her parentage, so she flees to the woods with Ania, enlisting the help of Wojtek. But Ewa tracks them down and eventually reunites with Ania at a train station while Majka flees, realizing that her life is now in tatters.

Like many of the other films of Dekalog, Dekalog: Seven engages with questions of parentage and relationships between parents and children. Its moral conflict pits two commandments against each other. The film’s main commandment, the Seventh Commandment, “You shall not steal,” would forbid Majka from taking Ania away from Ewa, stealing her away from her comfortable life. But how can Majka steal what is hers, her own child? Did Ewa steal Ania from Majka? And how does this commandment interact with the Fourth Commandment, “Honour your father and your mother.” Surely, Majka is not honouring Ewa with her actions, and Ania is too young to do so as well, especially considering that she does not know the truth of her parentage.

It seems that to forge a family, Majka has to destroy a family, which makes me think of Christ’s words on the cost of discipleship in Luke 14:26, “If anyone comes to me and does not hate his own father and mother and wife and children and brothers and sisters, yes, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple.” Christ asks his followers to give up their earthly families in order to enter the family of the kingdom of heaven, the brotherhood of the body of Christ. In a way, Majka follows this command to give up her family, but not in order to follow Christ or any other spiritual calling, but simply to forge a new identity for selfish reasons. The ending of the film finds her forsaking family, but not creating a new one, instead going off to wander in a wilderness of her own creation.

Dekalog: Eight

Dekalog: Eight is the meta episode for the series, dealing with an ethics professor, Zofia (Maria Kościałkowska), and her discussions with Elzbieta (Teresa Marczewska), a Holocaust survivor whose experiences of World War II overlapped with Zofia’s. The film begins in a classroom where Zofia is giving a lecture on various ethical situations proposed by her students. One student references the ethic situation in Dekalog: Two as one such conundrum, marking ameta-reference to Kieślowski’s own work, but Elzbieta, who is visiting from the States, brings up another ethical conundrum: she describes the story of a six-year-old Jewish girl who was going to hide with a Catholic Polish family during the Holocaust, only for the woman of the family to refuse to swear that the girl was a baptized Catholic, invoking the Eighth Commandment, “You shall not bear false witness against your neighbour.” Elzbieta was the girl, while Zofia was the woman, and over the course of a night, the two women discuss Zofia’s actions and the true meaning behind them.

It’s obvious that Dekalog: Eight deals with the Eighth Commandment; true to its meta nature, characters frequently reference the commandment throughout the film. The question here, then, seems to be whether the Eighth Commandment supersedes Zofia’s moral obligation to protect Elzbieta. But that ethical conflict proves to be an evasion, as Zofia is not being honest about her initial reasoning for refusing to help Elzbieta. It turns out that her husband was a resistance member and she was worried that the foster family that brought Elzbieta to her were working for the Gestapo, trying to entrap her husband. Thus, she did it out of self-preservation and care for her husband, not a desire to avoid bearing false witness.

The scenario is constructed so as to give no safe answer to what Zofia should have done; any decision would’ve endangered someone. Thus, Zofia is in a similar situation to the Doctor in Dekalog: Two; she is attempting to remove herself from the ethical equation, which proves impossible, and a decision in itself. Thus, my reflections on the Parable of the Talents are also valid here. I’m also drawn to the Parable of the Two Sons (Matthew 21:28-32), one of which tells his father that he will not work in the vineyard, only to go and work there, and the other son who tells his father that he will work, but does not. Christ uses the parable to show that outward showings of piety are not the real thing, and that a person who denies God’s commands by word, but follows them by deed, is in fact doing God’s work.

But I also feel that it can be connected to any kind of oaths or outward declarations that have no material impact on the lives of individuals. Thus, Zofia’s initial refusal to help Elzbieta because of the Eighth Commandment should’ve been considered false within a Christian understanding, as if Zofia were the first son, whose words refuse his father’s command, but whose actions fulfill them. She would’ve borne false witness, but saved a child. But the added revelations complicate this reading, which makes Dekalog: Eight, as all the films in the series are, exceedingly hard to reduce to simple moral lessons.

Dekalog: Nine

Dekalog: Nine follows a married couple, Romek (Piotr Machalica) and Hanka (Ewa Blaszczyk). Romek is impotent, and Hanka is having an affair as a result, although she had promised him that she doesn’t resent his impotence. When Romek discovers she is having an affair, he begins to follow her and watch her meet up with her lover, a younger man named Mariusz (Jan Jankowski). Hanka catches him and they decide to adopt a child in a bid to reignite their marriage and restore their bond. However, when Hanka goes on a ski trip, he spots Mariusz also heading out of town with skis in tow. He assumes that Hanka is planning to meet with Mariusz, and so he attempts suicide by riding his bike off an unfinished highway. However, Hanka was not planning on cheating on Romek at the ski resort. In the final moments of the film, Romek learns the truth over the telephone as Hanka and him reunite remotely.

Perhaps of all the films in Dekalog, Dekalog: Nine is the one that has the least obvious connections to any bible verses. Obviously, it draws inspiration from the Ninth Commandment, “You shall not covet your neighbour’s wife,” but seeing as Mariusz is a character of little depth, the moral conflict lies with other characters, to which the commandment hardly applies.

This film repeats and offers a variation on the themes of adultery, marriage, childrearing, deceit, and suicide present in other films of Dekalog, but I’m struck more by its ironic pathos than by any insightful connections to the Gospels. I do ponder whether Matthew 19:8-12, in which Christ discusses marriage and divorce, can shed any light on the spiritual implications of the film. I see Romek in the phrase “eunuchs who have been made eunuchs by men” in verse 12, even if he is not a literal eunuch, but merely impotent. However, the film never engages with Romek’s need to extinguish his own desires for a greater good, as is indicated within the Bible passage. Thus, I think that Dekalog: Nine remains the most worldly of the films in Dekalog. This does not mean that it’s the worst, but simply that its many reflections have more to do with the kingdom of men than the Kingdom of God.

Dekalog: Ten

Dekalog: Ten is the only film in the series that plays as comedy, albeit black comedy. Jerzy (Jerzy Stuhr) and Artur (Zbigniew Zamachowski) are brothers. Jerzy is an older businessman and Artur a younger musician. They rarely see each other, but when their father dies, they bond over their father’s extensive stamp collection, which is valued at many millions of zloty. They fixate over a specific stamp, hoping to acquire it to complete the collection, which leads them to make a series of trades with a shopkeeper (Henryk Bista) and other stamp collectors, each trade seemingly more absurd than the next. Jerzy agrees to donate his kidney to the shopkeeper in order to get the stamp they need, but when he leaves the hospital, Artur informs him that their entire collection was stolen, save for the one stamp they traded for. The loss of the collection drives the brothers apart, but they reunite after several failed attempts at seeking revenge on the other, realizing the absurdity of their situation, even as they start a new stamp collection with some just-released stamps.

In a way, Dekalog: Ten is as political as Dekalog: Five, albeit in a more subdued way. The feverish greed of the brothers, which snowballs and eventually pits them against each other, connects to the market capitalism that began entering Poland in the late 1980s. It’s as if the brothers have been infected by the greed of the market and follow that greed to its logical, empty conclusion. Kieślowski connects this to the Tenth Commandment, “You shall not covet,” which can extend to greed and coveting within the economic marketplace. But I don't find this avenue of examination worth further investigation.

I’m more struck by the film’s farcical and literal take on two of Christ’s parables: The Parable of the Hidden Treasure (Matthew 13:44) and the Parable of the Pearl of Great Value (Matthew 13:45-46). Both parables compare the Kingdom of Heaven to treasure that an individual will give everything to acquire. The parables demonstrate the true importance of the Kingdom of Heaven—it outstrips all material considerations—while also showing the single-minded focus that should fill people seeking it. The parables are illuminating when discussing a spiritual concept such as the Kingdom of Heaven, but they become absurd when the object of their focus is reduced to literal treasure, which is what Kieślowski does in Dekalog: Ten.

Jarusz and Artur treat the missing stamp as the hidden treasure or the “Pearl of Great Value,” but both of those items are metaphors, while the stamp is literally just a stamp, albeit of great monetary value. Jarusz and Artur end up losing all they have to acquire the stamp, and appropriately, it is only once they are stripped of all material concern that they gain a proper perspective and start to understand that material things cannot bring satisfaction, only more greed. The relationship between the two of them is far more valuable than stamps, and is perhaps worth all the trouble it took to reunite them.

Jarusz and Artur are too materialistic to ever consider spiritual matters in Dekalog: Ten, but they achieve a small measure of grace in the end, as if they have accidentally followed Christ’s command in Luke 18:22: “Sell all that you have and distribute to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven.” We will never know whether they follow the next part of that command, “And come, follow me.”

Dekalog (1989, Poland)

Directed by Krzysztof Kieślowski; written by Krzysztof Kieślowski and Krzysztof Piesiewicz.

Dekalog: One starring Henryk Baranowski, Wojciech Klata, Maja Komorowska.

Dekalog: Two starring Krystyna Janda, Aleksander Bardini, Olgierd Lukaszewicz.

Dekalog: Three starring Daniel Olbrychski, Maria Pakulnis, Joanna Szczepowska.

Dekalog: Four starring Adrianna Biedrzynska, Janusz Gajos, Adam Hanuszkiewicz.

Dekalog: Five starring Miroslaw Baka, Jan Tesarz, Krzysztof Globisz.

Dekalog: Six starring Olaf Lubaszenko, Grażyna Szapołowska.

Dekalog: Seven starring Anna Polony, Maja Barelkowska, Katarzyna Piwowarczyk.

Dekalog: Eight starring Teresa Marczewska, Maria Kościałkowska.

Dekalog: Nine starring Ewa Blaszczyk, Piotr Machalica, Jan Jankowski

Dekalog: Ten starring Jerzy Sthur, Zbigniew Zamachowski.