We now reach the “prove me wrong” episodes of The Dekalog, the final three in the series that, at least my first two trips through the series, left me underwhelmed. There are aspects of all three closing episodes that are interesting and worth examining, but each one of these episodes feels incomplete or clumsy.

Episode 8 might be the most disappointing of them all. I get the sense that Kieslowski felt obliged to have something about the holocaust in his series, and his close friend Hanna Krall, a Polish journalist who focused on holocaust survival stories, had much she was eager to share.

Unfortunately, this episode becomes like many American TV series after the initial, well-received series — caught up in self reference and lacking the nerve of the series originals.

But let me start with some things that work. Some viewers might find the setup for Episode 8 to be too slow, but I like the way it eases us into the story. It begins with a return to that motif of hands, here a man holding the hand of a young girl as they walk through Warsaw allies.

We don’t see (yet) who this girl is (it is one of the episode’s dual protagonists, Elżbieta) or why there seems to be some menace. Instead, we see shots of nature, a Warsaw park, and an older woman, Zofia (in a Nike exercise suit, times were changing in Poland) going through her daily workout.

We then see Zofia carrying flowers and running into a senior man, Czeslaw, who seems obsessed with stamps. He tells her about his latest find, German stamps from before World War II celebrating zeppelins. It is a story we will return to in Dekalog 10.

Zofia receives her mail — a significant number of letters — sorts them carefully and checks a postcard. She enters her apartment and sees one of her painting askew. Zofia straightens it, seconds later it goes askew again. She enters her bedroom and replaces drooping flowers with the ones she has brought home. She sets down two letters next to the flowers.

Zofia then goes to the kitchen and pulls out a plate she had left prepared — it seems to have some kind of greens and a potato. She goes to light her gas stove, but of course it isn’t working. But she has an electric water heater ready for times like this and prepares to boil a pot that way.

Next, we see Zofia with a leather valise entering her pea green very Eastern European looking car. It takes a couple times turning the key for the car to start. She parks at a college campus, people immediately recognize her and say hi.

As she walks the campus corridor, students get up and bow to her — she is clearly someone deeply respected in this community. She enters her office, her assistant tells her that the dean would like a word with her. Zofia takes off her coat, then goes through a door to see the dean.

The dean introduces a woman named Mrs. Loranz (Elżbieta) in his office, a woman in her late 40s introduced as a scholar from New York. The professor recognizes her immediately — they had met in the U.S. and this scholar had translated “nearly all” of her works.

The dean says that she would like to attend one of her classes and the professor says she would be delighted. The dean and the professor walk back to her office, leaving Mrs. Loranz.

Not much happens plot wise in this segment, but I do like the way Kieslowski introduces Zofia. She is seen as someone with authority, a professor respected for her scholarship and teaching methods, and someone who seems both friendly and open. There simply aren’t many senior women in Kieslowski stories and it is nice to see one who isn’t in any sense feeble.

These are important opinions to hold about the professor before the plot moves forward. But the question I have about this episode is already apparent — has Kieslowski gone too far in letting Zofia, a philosophy professor who focuses on morals, off the hook for her moral choices?