IDA: More Art than Film

Anna, a young woman on the verge of nunhood raised from the confines of a lonely convent discovers that her only living relative, Wanda, is a judge who abides by an irresponsible lifestyle of hedonism. These two very different personalities clash in Poland’s submission to the foreign film category of the Oscars, Ida. Anna and Wanda embark through the vestiges of Poland to locate the remains of Anna’s parents in order to give them a proper burial, a journey which becomes a heartfelt saunter that causes the pair to question their beliefs.

A personal and religious Odyssey

Ida depicts themes of personal identity within religion and politics and how one can easily lose oneself in an institution’s agendas. Through limited exposition, the story brilliantly and subtly exemplifies Anna’s internal dialogue as she begins to truly question the suitability of being a nun and the sacrifices that she must make to adhere to its ascetic lifestyle.

Wanda also comes to her own realizations that her lifestyle of debauchery may not have been as significant as she had convinced herself. It brings up a worthy question: How can one live a life fully satisfied without knowing what the alternate path may lead to?

Beauty is truth

The dearth of real dialogue or music really enables you to feel the beauty of the surroundings and immerse yourself in the atmosphere of Ida. Intimately shot, every frame offers details that would otherwise go unnoticed, and all exhibit the subtle beauties of the journey. This is accentuated by the simple black-and-white color scheme and highlighted by the eloquence of the Polish language. Each shot is meticulously crafted, and they linger steadily like a framed painting, offering precision on every little detail. Simultaneously, director Pawel Pawlikowski envelops his film with a frugality that doesn’t flood the senses, but rather piques it; with a short 80-minute runtime, nothing is left to distract from his artistic vision.

First time actress Agata Trzebuchowska portrays Anna beautifully, with a solemn innocence that slowly dissipates as the film progresses. She captures the transformation of a young woman who has spent her entire life confined to a convent and then finally experiences all the joys that life has to offer; a revelation that she immediately tries to ignore, as it directly clashes with her beliefs and her raising. Her character and performance contrasts directly with that of her indulgent aunt, played by Agata Kulesza with a tired sagacity, and provides a brilliant foil who both changes and is changed by her reconciliation with her niece. The dichotomy of the two is fascinating to watch, and the effect they have on each other is implied rather than shown.

At the same time, however, in the midst of all this beauty, is a self-absorbed profundity. There’s a solemn disconnect from the film’s characters and narrative that just can not help but be felt. As a whole, Ida is a tad underwhelming. There’s a lack of the necessary heart and passion that should be present, and it is too polarizing to be particularly affecting. The characters are lovely and their dynamic is evident, but nothing occurring on the screen exactly strikes as emotional, and nothing is really present to make you feel any attachment to them. True emotion eludes us.

Conclusion

Ultimately, Ida is more of a work of art than an actual movie. It may follow a very solid narrative, but the true strength lies in its beauty. Its a great example of amazing cinematography and craftsmanship utilized perfectly in unison, although it is unfortunately ostracizing because of a slightly subpar emotional allure. Still, Ida is worth a watch, as it is one of the more subtle and methodical films in this new generation of filmmaking, harboring an indescribable beauty in its simplicity.

What are your thoughts on Ida? Does the film truly capture the spirit of personal discovery? Leave a comment below and let us know your thoughts!

(top image source: Solopan)