In the wake of successful composer biographies like Amadeus and Immortal Beloved, one might think a film about Frederic Chopin might be in order. Alas, this Polish production (Chopin, along with Andy Warhol, is one of the country's most famed natives) comes up short, coming across as a low-budget and deeply muddled love letter to the maestro.

The heart of the problem is Piotr Adamczyk's portral of Chopin, who is styled as a pompous ass, albeit not an entertaining one a la Mozart. Chopin doesn't have much of a story outside of his musical stylings (which don't merit much attention in this movie) and his relationship with George Sand, the noted feminist author who also romanced Liszt. The problem isn't really even Adamczyk's performance but the fact that we're far more interested in Sand (Danuta Stenka) and her offspring. (This is probably because the Sand family is portrayed as impetuous and headstrong instead of dour and mannish.)

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