As we reach the conclusion of “Three Colours: White,” Kieslowski is still unsure about the tone of this film. Is it supposed to be a Charlie Chaplin-inspired broad comedy? A social satire? A twisted romantic fable? He seems to answer all of the above, which has always kept me at a distance.

Dominique invited the police officers into her hotel room. They ask for her passport, which she tells them is at the front desk. They inform her that someone from the French consulate will be coming. They somehow have evidence that Dominique was in Poland the day before Karol died … it would have been nice if the movie had set that up somehow, but we have to let go of the idea that this is a genuine suspense movie, it’s not.

Dominique tries to convince them that Karol is still alive, but the futility of that argument hits her pretty quickly. She has been trapped and, given the large estate she’s set to inherit, it all would seem suspicious from a distance … I guess. Assuming she couldn’t find a halfway competent defense attorney who could start deposing all of the characters on Karol’s side of the story, surely this plot would fall apart fast.

But again, that’s me holding the film to realistic standards again. In the next shot, we get a flashback, a repeat of the lovely scene from Dominique’s wedding that was previously a reverie of Karol. But here it dissolves out of Dominique’s scene and maybe it is hers … but then we get a shot of Karol peering through the teeth of a comb, which matches the view of Dominique through her wedding veil. Maybe the vision is his?

He is at home, not on his way to Hong Kong, and his brother is doing what he always does — being incredibly supportive, baking some kind of loaf. He tells Karol that he also made some cherry jam. And he says “maybe I can make a stew the next time with snails from the garden.” We are unsure what all of this is about, is it for his journey away?

His brother mentions that it is a good thing he didn’t turn himself in — mentioning the lengths so many people went through to cover up for him, including identifying the gruesome corpse. They would all go to jail, his brother rightly says. Then he mentions a lawyer who “cost a pretty penny” who said there is light at the end of the tunnel. Means of getting Dominique out, perhaps?

Karol, who has already been warned not to sit by the window because he might be recognized, leaves the apartment without even sunglasses to disguise him. He walks to the prison yard, doesn’t need to sign in or give any ID, then just enters the courtyard … I assume some kind of bribery must have been involved.

We see Dominique from her jail cell, several stories up. She speaks to Karol in sign language — which is rather beautiful, they learned a new language to speak to each other — and she tells him in sign that when she gets out, they will fly away together and get remarried. Karol, peering up at Dominique’s window, bursts into tears. Fade to black.

In a sense, the ending is beautiful, two people now trapped in mutual longing for one another, left with nothing but a dream or hope that they can be together. “White” ends as a twisted romantic fable. And I guess I can let go of plot details and let it exist that way.

Except, of course, that the characters will return for the final scene of “Three Colours: Red,” the movie I will begin examining tomorrow.