According to Socrates, must one heed popular opinion about moral matters? Does Socrates accept the fairness of the laws under which he was tried and convicted? Would Socrates have been wrong to escape?
In spite of the fact that the ethical stories that comprise Polish executive Krzyszto Kieślowski’s The Decalogue (1989) were propelled by the Ten Commandments (according to the movies’ umbrella title), the manner in which they identify with God’s Law as uncovered to Moses is in no way, shape or form direct or obvious; nor is the rich imagery which Kieslowski weaves all through the movies. As this paper will illustrate, the thoughts and subjects in The Decalogue are perplexing and frequently vague, particularly as for two essential and repeating images: the gigantic condo complex where the different characters dwell and every so often run into each other and an anonymous, strange male figure who floats on the outskirts of the activity, quiet and watching. Kieślowski utilizes these two images to represent and build up the metaphysic that lies at the core of the film. “The movies [that establish The Decalogue] ought to be affected by the individual edicts to a similar degree that the rules impact our day by day lives”, Kieślowski notes in the prologue to the distributed content of The Decalogue (cited in Cunneen, 1997). Joseph Cunneen proposes that this impact is unpretentious and backhanded. It is huge that the movies don’t have separate titles that contain content of the rules; thus, the watcher is “regularly uncertain of the connection between a movie and a specific precept; to the chief, if the quantities of a few scenes were switched — for instance 6 and 9 — it would have no effect” (Cunneen, 1997). Kieślowski hence supports scholarly mystery with respect to his gathering of people. “I simply report, for instance, Decalogue 1. The onlooker takes a gander at the film and . . . starts to consider the commandment(s)”. (Kieślowski, as cited in Cunneen, 1997). For instance, in Decalogue VI there appear to be no reference to any one specific rule, however it contains references to taking (the peeping-tom hero takes a telescope to keep an eye on a female neighbor) and slaughtering (a similar character slices his wrists close to the finish of the film). This “completely un-educational” approach empowers Kieślowski and his co-screenwriter, Krzysztof Piesiewicz, to build up their topics with nuance and restriction (Porton, 50). In The Decalogue, as throughout everyday life, nothing is straightforward. “Every scene can be compared to an ethical story that recommends . . . how we can live morally in reality as we know it where the bogus solace of either a confidence in God or rationalistic realism is inaccessible”, states (Porton, 48). Jonathan Rosenbaum would appear to concur that the movie’s capacity is suggestive as opposed to instructional: “The finely etched contents of these movies progress toward becoming proposals of how we may consider these individuals, not orders about how we should pass judgment on them” (Rosenbaum, 159). He proceeds to state that the choice to create a progression of movies that compare to the Ten Commandments in name and number is basically “a bundling thought, effectively intended to give Kieślowski a global notoriety and made to some extent for fare” (Rosenbaum, 155). By the executive’s own confirmation, he and Piesiewicz stayed away from any unmistakable political references to the Poland of the mid-1980s all together that the movies could be promoted in different nations (Stok, 145). However none of this diminishes The Decalogue’s savvy person, good and stylish stature. Kieślowski is a genuine craftsman whose extreme concern is uprightness – that of his characters and furthermore of himself, as a movie producer. He doesn’t show ethical quality (in the feeling of “thou shalt not”) yet rather thinks about and tests life’s alleged “hazy areas”. As per him, “uprightness is a to a great degree entangled blend and we can never eventually say ‘I was straightforward’ or ‘I wasn’t straightforward’. In the entirety of our activities . . . we end up in a situation from which there’s extremely no chance to get out – and regardless of whether there is, it is anything but a superior way out [but only] the lesser shrewdness. This [choosing which way out to take], obviously, characterizes uprightness” (Stok, 146 and 149). The thought, at that point, that an arrangement of ten tenets is all we require is oversimplified to the point of craziness. The choices we as a whole should make in our lives are regularly troublesome and agonizing; they are additionally reliant on a large group of various elements which must be gauged and considered. Where profound quality is concerned, points of view must be modified and in some cases supplanted with new ones. Mario Sesti recommends that the intricacy of the thoughts at play in The Decalogue is symbolized, to a limited extent, by the skyscraper condo complex which is the focal setting for every one of the scenes. “All through the work an arrangement of insights, correspondences and suggestions intangibly binds together the tangled situations of the characters who live in the [same] condo square. Everybody either knows or disregards each other, yet everybody knows (anyway reluctantly) that they have a place with a similar account” (Sesti, 183). Portman comments that Kieślowski’s mark topic in for all intents and purposes the entirety of his movies (not simply The Decalogue) is “the unutterability of human experience through possibility experiences – or close experiences – of heroes whose ways could never customarily cross” (Portman, 2001). Finding the vast majority of the activity in and around the tremendous loft building where the different characters live, and where their ways once in a while cross, enables Kieślowski to stage such possibility experiences and close experiences while “(weaving the) single scenes into a general embroidered artwork” (Sesti, 183). The chief notes that picking characters aimlessly and seeing how they act and interrelate is all around served by the loft building setting: “We had the possibility that the camera should select, . . . at that point tail him or her all through whatever is left of the film”, he says, including that since the flat building has “a great many comparative windows surrounded in the building up shot”, it was a perfect setting for his motivations (Stock, 146). Cunneen clarifies that the flat building binds together “the arrangement” since we see a similar couple of structures over and over (that is, from scene to scene), including that “in such a setting it winds up normal for a character we see on the stairs in a single scene to end up a noteworthy figure in a later one” (Cunneen, 2001). By expansion, it would not be a misrepresentation to state that the loft building symbolizes the solidarity – and interrelatedness – of experience. In spite of the interrelatedness, Michael Wilmington contends that every one of the characters in the arrangement consider themselves basically “disengaged” (Wilmington, 2001). Every so often, to some minor degree, the setting shifts from the Warsaw suburb and into the city, and even the wide open, yet the chief has a nostalgic thought of an arrival the dreary elevated structure squares (Wilmington, 2001). The imagery of the thought to depict such zones of Warsaw is that just in those tall dark structures can the crowd get comfortable with a wide range of feelings of the tenants: love, despise, invitingness, respectfulness, interest and the sky is the limit from there. There is consistent association between the neighbors, making Kieślowski’s arrangement exceptionally sensible and easy to comprehend for his watchers. The condo building is, as a result, a target correlative to this very discomfort. The “purposely dark or bitter hues” of the building “catch a structure that implies both the State and the repetitiveness of life in ‘Individuals’ Poland'” (Porton, 2001). In a comparative vein, Agnieszka Tennant makes reference to the “mass-delivered, dismal structures”, “bleak snowy outside”, “chilly pads” and “generic stairwells, lifts and workplaces” that establish the film’s mise-en-scène (Tenant, 2001). Another capacity of the flat building setting is that it takes into consideration an open account structure – a structure which “welcomes the watcher to translate the activities of [the] heroes, to pursue their battles with fate in a wealth of chance experiences” (Haltof, 79), while filling in as a helpful image for voyeurism and moving viewpoints (in other words, the watcher’s and additionally the executive’s look). Cunneen is right to pressure that Kieślowski’s camera is “attached to windows, mirrors, or any articles that offer potential outcomes of reflections” (Cunneen, 2001). This propensity opens new viewpoints on the heroes of the film arrangement. They are seen from behind the glass, focal point or mirror which features that their activities couldn’t be what they appear and have mor>