Ida

Aber keine Sorgen. Es handelt sich um eine gedämpfte Darstellung der Traumata aus dem Verlauf der Geschichte, um eine intime Detektivstory über die Identität und um einen Film, dessen Titel irreführend ist, denn der Schwerpunkt seiner Kraft befindet sich nicht in den schönen, jedoch passiven Augen einer Nonne, sondern im elektrisierenden Charakter der von Tante Wanda (ja, genau dies ist die Figur, die bei uns weder jemand spielen noch schreiben möchte, weil sie Kommunistin ist und nicht als uneheliches Kind der Hölle dargestellt wird). Pawlikowski betrachtet seine Charaktere durch das Prisma obsessiv arrangierter Rahmen, bei denen sich die New-Wave-Nostalgie, sakrales Halbdunkel und an einigen Stellen auch der Kaurismäki-Tanzsaalretro begegnen. Hierin gibt ein wenig Manierismus, wobei der Film zeitgleich Film eine spürbare Distanz aufbaut, die einerseits schade ist (die Entfernung mag zu groß sein), andererseits vorteilhaft erscheint (der Film verfällt keinem Sentiment oder einer Rechtfertigung historischer Ungerechtigkeiten und keiner übermäßigen Psychologisierung). Ida verfügt über eine außerordentlich rein und selten verständliche Form, die über einen Großteil des Dramas hinweg sich hinter den Grenzen des Gezeigten befindet. Der Streifen bleibt bis zum letzten Augenblick sehr strikt und angenehm zurückhaltend. Im guten Sinne des Wortes geht es somit um einen "edlen" Film, der stets gebraucht wird. [80%] (19.07.2014)

Big topic are "seeming randomly" addressed in an intimate and subtle way (these big topics overlap not only through character of Wanda with what we shall address in the Czech republic) with an unprecedentedly refined, coldly reserved visual side. And this visual side is surprisingly the biggest stumbling block, because each shot is so magnificently composed that the image steals the show. And it's never good. In other words, surprisingly, despite the rich and high-quality content, "the form overshadows the content" to a larger extent. (17.01.2015)

The case of Pawlikowski and Ida shows in practice the validity of the age-old maxim that talent without a theme is nothing, or rather that the most impressive works are created when the creators look into themselves and focus on personal themes. Before Ida, Pawlikowski was a solid, but in no way essential, filmmaker with a long career in essayistic documentaries for the BBC and in independent genre-festival circles. Ida reflects his own renaissance as a man and artist in connection with tragic events in his family life and the apparent balance of his own identity and existence as an emigrant whom his mother took from Poland to Great Britain when he was an adolescent. Pawlikowski conceived Ida as a reflection of Poland with its ethically problematic history and injustices perpetrated against others, which, unlike the film and its heroine, the country has never dealt with. Through the personal dimension, however, Ida does not fall into the historical thesis of guilt, but instead remains an intimate film about freedom, the crossroads that one comes to in life and the power of personal choice, regardless of how impermissible that choice may seem with respect to categories. At the same time, the chosen stylisation with the use of a classic format and black-and-white picture is an open tribute to cinema at the time in which the film is set, while concurrently using the existing expressive lexicons for its own ends (as is clear not only from the conceptually meaningful use of static and moving shots, but also from the claustrophobic framing, which gradually transforms into details at the close of the film). It remains a paradox that following global success and an Oscar victory, Poland appropriated as its calling card a film about accepting and coming to terms with the past, and thus discovering new strength for one’s own life, i.e. things that Poland’s society and government essentially refuse to do. (13.04.2020)

When it comes to form, Ida represents heavyweight art that leaves no doubt from the beginning that it was created with the intention of winning an award at a prestigious festival. I approach such projects with preliminary caution, as similar films often suffer from mannerisms and creative self-centeredness. For example, I do not understand why it was necessary to cast a non-actress in the lead role. Was it really impossible to find an inexperienced student with deep expressive eyes in numerous Polish art schools and regional theaters who would also be capable of acting? Actually, it makes sense. In this kind of film, acting is an unforgivable sin. You can only "be" and "throw long glances." The image is static, the script simple, and the story is mostly predictable. However, the essence of the experience is the suggestive black and white camera, which captures the inhospitable environment of 1950s Poland, mutilated human fates, and tragic characters going through a deep internal crisis. Ida's final decision is not an expression of her deep religious faith, but rather a sign of low self-confidence in whether she would withstand the unfriendly world where she would not find the necessary emotional and material support. To stay alone with oneself in a foreign environment is simply unbearable. An even more interesting character is the embittered Aunt Wanda, who embodies the demons of recent history, ideological fanaticism, and subsequent disillusionment, as well as memories of the cruelty in the consolidation of the new regime. Unfortunately, Pawlikowski only brings up these themes without developing them, and the viewer has to rely on their imagination. Considering its content, Ida has an ideal runtime, and if it were 20 minutes longer, I would have stayed at 3 stars. And if Pawlikowski had let himself be carried away by creative enthusiasm (which often happens to these gentlemen) and extended the runtime to 120 minutes, I would have mercilessly gone even lower. In this form, however, I even think that Ida is an ideal candidate for exploring new cinematic territory. If you want to try a new genre, in this case, a minimalist psychological drama, Ida is a good testing ground that will tell you whether you should dare to go further. I don't consider winning an Oscar to be adequate, unlike a film like Son of Saul, Ida does not reach the formal and content qualities, but 4 stars indicate that it still has its claws in me. Overall impression: 75%. (11.09.2018)

Schwarz-weißer und im Seitenverhältnis 4: 3 gedrehter Tribut an das Kino der 60er Jahre (in denen die Handlung des Films stattfindet) und gleichzeitig die Rückkehr des Regisseurs Pawlikowski in das polnische Filmland. Die Geschichte einer jungen Novizin (eine Phase vor dem Klosterleben), die gemeinsam mit ihrer Tante zu einer intimen Road-Trip aufbricht, um das Grab ihrer Eltern zu finden, dabei aber auch sich selbst entdeckt, ist nicht besonders attraktiv und schon gar nicht unvorhersehbar. Die visuelle Seite des Films ist jedoch bemerkenswert. Ida ist ein bescheidener und reiner Film, der Wert auf die Psychologie der Charaktere und die Ästhetik des Bildes legt. Er macht auf den ersten Blick Eindruck, ruft aber nach wiederholtem Anschauen keine Begeisterung hervor. (08.07.2014)

The promotional advantage of a European art film starring a sexy nun in the main role is definitely always the hope that in the context of provocatively challenging old world mores, we're pretty likely to receive her full frontal. Ida, however, has other aces up its sleeve, notably the bravura composition of practically all the shots, which are often unpleasantly uninformative (for example, several times we don't see the person being spoken to or about, even though they're a meter and a half away from the camera frame) and designed so that their actors fill only a minimal part of the frame. This way of shooting, along with the black and white color scheme, helps to portray communist Poland as the elusive scarred little brother of Mordor, riddled with existentialism, loneliness, and alienation. Despite this, Ida is not heavy art, as it easily could have been, since each of the scenes in the film has a clearly named purpose, and the protagonists' impenetrability is framed by the specific goal they are both pursuing. Everything beyond that is something the viewer can comfortably find for themselves, and the film doesn't push them to do so. (07.11.2014)

Most of the time, this doesn't happen, but with this film, I was more drawn to the visual aspect than the plot. Usually it's the story that gets me, but this black-and-white cinematography was so beautiful I just stared. Unfortunately, the story, while not bad, didn't captivate me as much, and the story of the nun just before taking her vows is somewhat predictable at times. (10.04.2017)