The Pianist : by Wladyslaw Szpilman.

I stumbled on the par excellence film by accident at well past midnight one time a few years ago when working and absentmindedly letting the television run on, and sleep went flying out the window as the tale mesmerised one, work forgotten, gripped by the poor man hiding in various holes in the town and country torn by war after it was ravaged by occupation. Then on I kept vigil and watched it several times, and really it is one of the few one ought to keep a dvd of. The book I am waiting to get hold of to read, for it must be as good at least, except Polanski does wonders with visuals and every other aspect just right so if one is unfamiliar with any part of the subject a good film is a great help. It is a biography on the other hand, autobiography at that, so it has to be at least as good.

Almost every part of the story is unforgettable, the initial days when the family thinks of hiding wealth in parts of house they are afraid will be raided, the camps and the train, the escape and the hiding in various places, the man who is supposed to feed and instead gives rotten food for precious watch and other things taken from the pianist and all the while stealing the money the music community is providing to feed him, the German officer who helps, the war and the sheer danger to life for anyone in the neighbourhood, the miraculous survival, and the return to playing the piano.