Heritage Florida Jewish News - Central Florida's Independent Jewish Voice

Over seven years ago, Martin Scorsese unveiled his series “Masterpieces of Polish Cinema” at the Lincoln Center, highlighting works mostly made between the 1950s and the 1970s. During this time, Poland produced such masterpieces as Andrzej Wajda’s “Ashes and Diamonds,” Wojciech Has’ “The Hourglass Sanatorium” (previously covered in this series), Janusz Morgenstern’s “To Kill this Love,” among so many others. Many of these films reflected on life in post-World War II as well as the struggle to cope with the horrors that took place. Director Pawel Pawlikowski’s 2013 entry for Best Foreign Language Film, “Ida,” dips into the life of two Jewish women living opposing lives in Poland as this ‘Golden Age’ of cinema was being born, struggling with their identities and their future in a barren landscape that used to be called home.

Pawlikowski was fed up with the endless repetition and gimmicks in modern filmmaking — from the anxiety-inducing handheld camera work to the on-the-nose music queues. Upon the inception of “Ida,” the Polish born, UK-raised director had a fraught relationship with the film industry. After a long silence in his career, “Ida” was meant to be a return to his love and passion for cinema as well as a return to his roots in Poland.

“Ida” follows a young novice nun named Anna (Agata Trzebuchowska) during the Polish People’s Republic in the 1960s. Before she can take her final vows, she is instructed to seek out her aunt, Wanda Gruz (Agata Kulesza), and spend however much time she needs to learn about herself and, in so many words, figure herself out. Anna travels to Warsaw where she discovers her aunt to be a promiscuous chain-smoking former judge that finds herself at an impasse. Wanda tells Anna that her real name is actually Ida Lebenstein and her parents were murdered during the Nazi occupation under strange circumstances. The two set out to find the truth of Anna’s parents’ death, which will ultimately change the course of both of their lives.

“Ida” is, at its core, a spiritual film with our two leads in stark contrast with one another. All Anna has ever known is the convent, and God died for Wanda between the war and her time as a Communist resistance fighter against the Germans. Eventually, Wanda had become a prosecutor, sentencing many people to death. What is left for her now is guilt, the comfort of a cigarette and whichever man keeps her company for the night.

“Ida” is similar in theme to Wojciech Has’ “The Hourglass Sanatorium,” but far more subtle in its approach and execution. In contrast, Jozef’s journey in “Sanatorium” was one of finality, a harsh period at the end of the sentence that was Jewish Europe. His character struggled to make sense of his experiences and the horrors that his family endured as he faces his morbid end. “Ida” is, without a doubt, the film that comes after, the generation after. Ida is a woman who was raised in a convent, all trace of who she is and where she comes from is missing — the only connection she has left is her Aunt Wanda.

Pawlikowski could have gone in many directions with the story at this film’s core. Easily, this could have been a revenge fantasy or even a high stakes thriller, but Pawlikowski’s ambitions were in the subversion of these expectations. Gone in this film is the endlessly moving camera, the bubble-gum flavored colors of contemporary blockbusters. Instead, we have subjects trapped within the still frame and within their own moralistic or psychological reservations. After the fate of Ida’s parents is revealed, we also find a Poland imprisoned by its regret and unwillingness to face its past evil.

Within a slim timeframe of eighty minutes and a rather straightforward narrative, “Ida” manages to touch on the endless pit of regret, violence, and turmoil within the conflicting Jewish, Communist, and Catholic identities of Poland. Pawlikowski’s eye maintains its distance from its subjects, and we are left to guess and to gather the inner workings of our lead’s mind. Pawlikowska is not the only master at work here. Agata Kulesza’s performance as Wanda is show stopping — she gives us a character in a cracked mask. A woman who has persevered but crumbles under the cynical and broken bones she is left. As the film’s threads unravel and we see Ida interact and navigate this world, we also piece together our portrait of her. Agata Trzebuchowska, a student at the time with virtually no prior acting experience, presents us with Ida from a still figure within a nun’s habit to a living and breathing person. Rarely do we get the pleasure of experiencing this on screen in such subtlety and restraint.

“Ida” is now streaming on mubi.

Zachary Aborizk is an independent filmmaker, writer, and teacher based out of Orlando, FL. His work has appeared in such publications as Adelaide Magazine in New York as well as the Tampa Bay Underground Film Festival.