This is a road movie of a single location: the stage and it’s not relevant whether the journey ends in failure or success. The rehearsals for "The Trial" directed by Krystian Lupa are a cre-ative process we must judge for ourselves. Lupa may be a despot, but he wants to let Kafka speak.
Lupa role plays, lectures and argues with the actors. He remains in a creative trance, some-times baffling, but tireless. He gives it his best and demands the same of others. He asks them to jump into a well, though no enlightenment awaits.
Does good theater rely on the fate of what the actors and audience bring on a given day? Is the road leading up to the premiere always reflected in the performance? The film reveals the backstage of Lupa's creative process and his difficult relations with the actors. The camera films mishaps, jitters and dramas, balancing on the line between staying in character and privacy, stitching the documentary from scraps of rehearsal, following not the chronology but the dynamics of work. Lupa deliberately gets lost only to find his way again, burning up in arguments over trivial details that, for him, are a matter of life or death. What drives the di-rector of “The Trial” is the very essence of theater. According to Lupa, theater, at its best, can’t be directed.