DIPLODOCUS. To Be, for a Moment, that Enchanted Mouse…

I fear such adaptations not only because of sentimentality but also because of the time that has passed since their original appearance – in this case, on paper. Right next to me lie important pieces of my childhood imagination: Podróż smokiem Diplodokiem (The Journey of Diplodocus the Dragon) published by the Youth Publishing Agency in 1986, and Antresolka profesorka Nerwosolka (Professor Nerwosolek’s Attic), but this album is from 2018, published by Ongrys Publishing.

At the end of the latter, you will find interesting interviews with Tadeusz Baranowski and the director of Diplodocus, Wojciech Wawszczyk, which I read and ignored, not believing that the project would ever succeed. Tadeusz Baranowski drew a comic that was difficult to adapt for the screen unless one had a sense of which drawing, transformed into a moving image, would suddenly become kitsch and which would strike the right emotional chord. In fact, this story needed to be reinvented for the screen, combining The Journey of Diplodocus the Dragon with Professor Nerwosolek’s Attic, and in addition, it had to have a unique graphic form. Today, after the screening, I returned to these interviews and nodded with satisfaction, admitting my mistake. Diplodocus by Wojciech Wawszczyk allows us to joyfully appreciate the power of imagination, which gives us so much happiness and protection in childhood, and in adulthood pushes us with the force of a waterfall through its twists and turns. All of this is to ensure that maturity does not completely consume our childhood carefreeness, irrevocably stripping it of the precious colors of the spirit.

I know that the title of this review might seem enigmatic, but the mouse is a very important character in Smok Diplodok. It serves as a link between the world of the comic and the reality in which the author finds himself. It was brilliantly portrayed by Piotr Polak, who presented the struggles of the author with the market and his own unfulfilled talent. He was partnered by Helena Englert, a very annoying character, whose alter ego was a pink kitten shooting lasers from its eyes to turn everything into something sweet. This is essentially the entire plot thread, filmed – if I remember correctly – in a basement in Brno, blending with animation in a way that I found surprisingly thoughtful, coherent, and reinforcing the main narrative. The plot revolves around Diplodok the dragon’s journey in search of the sources of the mysterious Biała (White), which took away (or literally erased) his parents and is generally erasing the entire comic world. In the real world, Biała has the face of Helena Englert, who, in a broader sense, symbolizes the forced commercial formula that devours the talent and artistic individuality of creators – i.e., mass culture. Paradoxically, Tadeusz Baranowski and his work are proof that mass appeal can also be sellable, unique, and valuable, not in a monetary sense.

In his abstract journey, Diplodok meets the best magician in the world, Hokus Pokus, and Professor Nerwosolek with his energetic assistant Entomologia. A bookworm also occasionally makes an appearance, who spends the whole film trying to eat something, as well as many other characters known and unknown from Baranowski’s comics, including the author himself. His appearance is special. It seals the entire film with the most important permission, which should somewhat quiet any potential voices of discontent. I don’t really know what those voices would be – criticism that Diplodocus doesn’t stick to the original comic, omitting many scenes and even characters? That in some animated elements, it’s not a Pixar-level blockbuster, even though our friends from the Czech Republic and Slovakia significantly supported the Polish animation team, finally giving Polish cinema the chance to make a good, feature-length animated film based on a cult literary title?

I seriously doubted whether Polish cinematography was ready for such a challenge. So, when I read the praises online about how far Polish creators have come, almost crossing the mythical Rubicon by making Diplodocus, I smile slightly because reviewers and other commentators so easily forget about the crucial artistic and financial help from our southern neighbors. Poles easily puff themselves up, so I feel it’s my duty to regularly pull a few of those feathers out, while at the same time being very proud of our Polish creators. Their role is significant and paves the way for others in our small, Vistula-based history of animated film. I will also emphasize this whenever I have the chance to mention Diplodocus while writing about the art of cinema in general.

I still feel surprised and moved by the screening, but this is temporary and will pass, like all fresh emotions. What matters most, however, is that I also have the feeling that it doesn’t matter whether I praise the script, the electro-style music, the animation, the personality of Hokus Pokus, the cinematography of the live-action parts by Piotr Sobociński Jr., the voice acting of Mikołaj Wachowski, Borys Szyc, Małgorzata Kożuchowska, and Arkadiusz Jakubik, the idea for resolving Biała, the greedy moth, the lost mouse in the comic, the editing of the live-action parts with the animation, and I could keep listing for a long time. What really matters is that sitting in the cinema, feeling my daughter’s head on my shoulder and knowing perfectly well that her eyes are wet and she’s sniffing with emotion, and then a moment later whispering for me to read her those comics because she had already flipped through them before the screening, I experience the same emotions. If two generations, separated by 37 years, behave in the same way, it means everything worked out, and Tadeusz Baranowski, smiling from the screen, can be proud of himself for drawing such wonderful comics.

Thanks to films like Diplodocus, one wants to take that enchanted pencil in hand and redraw the world, even though it’s completely impossible. However, this temporary forgetfulness gives so much fun and comfort that without such emotions, it’s hard to imagine adulthood, which only truly acquires meaning when we try to suggest to our children how best to live it, and they still have to do it in their own independent way.