See Three Colors: Blue and Three Colors: White. They are both wonderful films and will give an added dimension to the finale Three Colors: Red. Red is a fantastic film. It can be enjoyed in a single viewing, and indeed, the climax of the film is very powerful in that first viewing. But, watch it again. Once you understand the use of symbolism and character parallels in this movie, you will see new things with each viewing. With the first viewing you understand that the film is the work of a brilliant mind. With each additional viewing, you find yourself discovering that it is, in fact, a work of genius. Red is meant to symbolize fraternity in the French flag. The story turns the theme of fraternity around to be viewed at angles one would never suspect. The facets of fraternity shared by the different characters is as deep as you care to peer. If you are used to the blatant "symbolism" in most mass films, you may find Red a bit slow. You may find yourself looking at a screen filled with intensity that you do not fathom... and yawning, wonder what all the excitement is about. This is not a mindless, vicarious experience. Everything is not explained to you. You must think as you watch. You must see... not simply look. Wonderful movie... one meant to be enjoyed by a wonderful moviegoer.

The last film in the Three Colors trilogy, RED, is deceptively simple, yet it rounds out everything that came before in an enlightening way. It slightly resembles THE DOUBLE LIFE OF VERONIQUE in its theme of fraternity, and in its casting of Irene Jacob, who manages to exude a sense of curious innocence and integrity. She interprets the role of Valentine, a young Swiss model and student living in Geneva and experiencing a kind of emotional limbo as she awaits her boyfriend's return from England. Through a seemingly trivial twist of fate, she encounters a cynical retired judge (Jean-Louis Trintignant) who leads a lonely, world weary existence and eavesdrops on his neighbors' telephone conversations. Initially she finds his detached indifference appalling, and wants to report him, but her compassionate nature enables her to comprehend the greater plight of the man, one of leading a fruitless, lovelorn life. They form a touching friendship, and this sets the stage for another turn of events. Auguste (Jean-Pierre Lorit) is young judge who is in many ways a mirror image of Trintignant's character. He lives near Valentine, but through possible lack of synchronicity, they never meet. Upheavals in his life are accordingly similar to the old judge's, but this time, due to the presence of the noble Valentine, an old adversity can be turned on its side, bringing fulfillment for everyone.

With Red, there is a real sense of culmination unlike any other. Wistful, melancholy, yet life-affirming, the film offers hope in world full of supposed mistaken paths. Tritignant remarked on Kieslowski's talents in augmenting the emotions of the actors through his technique: "I'm very pleased with my work on this film - and I don't think it had a lot to do with me. For example, at the end of the film when my character goes to the window, looks outside, and starts to cry - I couldn't do it, I couldn't summon the tears. I tried to make myself cry but couldn't manage it. Krzysztof called the make-up lady who shot menthol into my eyes. We shot the scene and Krzysztof said 'It's good, next shot.' Recently I saw the finished film. I waited anxiously for this scene. And I cried when I saw myself."

Tritignant's nuanced portrayal is augmented by equally good work from Jacob who bears insight into her role as well: "Something really great about RED are the 'non-encounters' between Auguste and Valentine. They pass each other without ever meeting. They might be great for each other but they never meet. It reminds me of THE DOUBLE LIFE OF VERONIQUE where the two identical Veroniques are face to face but don't see each other. In RED this idea is reflected by the way Valentine can't face up to her life, her love, her sorrows. How can Auguste see her, or she him? How can they both release themselves from this blindness?"

The uplifting aura of this film shines even brighter given the pettiness with which the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences brushed it off. Due to the fact that is a multinational co-production, with a Polish director, mixed Swiss and French cast and crew, Red was not allowed to compete for a Best Foreign Language Film Oscar as a film from Switzerland. Indeed, the trilogy itself is without a country as it transcends borders and even culture in its solemn inquiry into human nature and that is a prize in itself.

This is a sometimes clever, sometimes corny, but always beautiful story of predestined love.

Jean-Louis Trintignant plays a retired judge, corrupted by an all-consuming cynicism, who meets a beautiful girl, but doesn’t fall in love with her. Instead, his reincarnation does, and he mystically orchestrates their predestined meeting. The girl is played by IrPne Jacob, who is earnest, warm, uncorrupted and beautiful. She’s a French model unloved by her boyfriend (fool that he is) with a demeanor proud, but not vain, vulnerable, but not weak.

The judge is so pathetic that he spies on his neighbors’ phone conversations to spice up his lonely and pitiful existence. Their love affairs, their spats, their crimes are piped into him as he sits alone in his house. But she has the genius to appreciate him and to understand him, and so frees him from his bitterness.

We see in this, the final third of director Krzysztof Kieslowski’s trilogy, something reminiscent of his countryman, Roman Polanski, in his passion for young actresses and his ability to bring out the best in them. We see further in the character of the retired judge a projection of ideas about how an old man, past any pretense, might love a young woman: wisely, delicately, from a slight distance, without a hint of lechery.

IrPne Jacob makes us believe that innocence and instinctive goodness are wondrous qualities, regrettably not much touted these days. More often depicted are women who would rather sing proudly of being bitches while acting out violent, two-fisted, emulations of a bogus masculinity, e.g., see "Single White Female," etc.

Red is for her lips, for the color of curtains and theater seats, for the color of her true love’s utility vehicle (often in her sight, but not yet recognized), for doors and panels and for the warm beat of her heart. Her name is Valentine. She is the dream of the worldly man who has known many women, whose head is not easily turned. And red is for the ringing of the phone, heard in its urgency as red.

I liked this better than Blue or White, both of which were very good; but the clash of innocence and cynicism here, with youth and age so aptly contrasted, along with a clever plot (Kieslowski loves to surprise us), highlighted by captivating performances from the leads, make this the best of the three.