“watch them intently, for these are the last hours of their lives.” the voiceover that opens kanal, which simultaneously introduces us to a depleted organisation of the failed warsaw rebellion and foretells of its forthcoming grisly destiny, powers andrzej wajda’s “resistance” movie with a morbid fascination. Aware about their slender probabilities of survival with the german navy tightening its grip all of the time, the closing women and men of lt. Zadra’s domestic military unit break out to the sewers, no longer due to the fact they think that gives a whole lot danger of survival, however because their instincts hold riding them to live, despite the fact that only for a few moments more. But the confusion and bizarre terror down there, within the foul winding tunnels of an underground maze of waste, lead them to a pitiful few remaining hours.
All sense of time and geography is lost: it’s simply mysterious bodies, wading in perpetual night through a river of shit. Sandwiched among a era and ashes and diamonds, as the least complex and political of wajda’s struggle trilogy, kanal is as pure a portrayal of human desperation as one would possibly locate inside the cinema.