Chase

I begin the next segment’s examination with a quote from Marcel Proust:

At the Champs-Élysées I had had an inkling, which since those days had become clearer to me, that when we are in love with a woman, all we are doing is projecting on to her a state of our own self; that consequently what is important is not the merit of the woman, but the intensity of that state; and that the emotions which a mediocre young girl can give us may enable us to bring up to consciousness elements of ourself which are more private and personal, more remote and essential than anything which we may acquire from the conversation of an extraordinary man, or even the admiration with which we gaze at his works.

This is where Alexandre (and perhaps Kieslowski the man, by proxy) fails as an artist. He sets up a scenario to manipulate Veronique and learn from her. But he shuts himself off from the far deeper experience of working with her emotions. If Alexandre would accept the desire, longing and heartbreak, he would find the real material of his work. Instead, he just finds some shallow plot device. If he yearned for Veronique in every clue and gesture, he would reach the depths necessary to go beyond the simplicity of the children’s book.

Veronique doesn’t just leave the restaurant abruptly, she flees rapidly on foot. She trips and falls on a crosswalk, keeps looking back over her shoulder as if a murderer were in pursuit of her. We seen Veronique flee rapidly though the Parisian streets and crowds to the point that it no longer seems necessary, we don’t even know at this point that Alexandre ever got up from the table, he who has sat there for 48 hours.

But it makes sense for Veronique to fear him. This man has surveilled her extensively, learned where she lives and where her father lives. He knows where she works and what car she drives. If Alexandre is not pursuing her romantically, he does become a risk, even if he wishes no physical harm. He wishes something more pernicious, to possess her psychologically.

Veronique finally reaches a spot where she decides to duck for cover instead of keep moving. She buzzes an apartment door and someone immediately complies without inquiring who she is. This allows her to stay safely hidden behind a door, but also have a window out to the street. And, what do you know, Alexandre has been rapidly trailing behind her all along, except now he’s lost her and he’s looking frantically through this intersection to catch a glimpse of her again. At one point he climbs on top of a newspaper box to try to see her from a height and nearly trips. This seems to charm Veronique, who no longer seems as upset. His pursuit indicates that there are feelings in him even if he cannot express them.

But she is still not ready to surrender to him. So when a taxi pulls up at the apartment building and a man gets out, Veronique rapidly reaches the taxi and flees again. Alexandre notices this and looks at the taxi’s direction. We next see Veronique checking into a hotel, which makes sense given all Alexandre knows. Except shortly after getting the key, she runs into Alexandre in the lobby.

He exclaims that he’s sorry, and Veronique simply asks why. Again, Alexandre cannot articulate anything, he just shakes his head. But apparently this is good enough for Veronique, for now, because the next thing we see, Veronique is in her hotel room and Alexandre is there with her. Except he has passed out across the bed. I guess the 48 hour stakeout finally caught up with him. Veronique gently gets into bed without disturbing him.

But the scene closes with something magical. Veronique takes a ring off her left hand and rubs her lower eyelid with it, just as Weronika did in an early scene. She then glances up at the ceiling, as if comforted from above, and we hear the Van den Budenmayer theme again, played by a pan flute. She falls asleep and the film fades to black.