Wednesday, July 16, 2014

Ida

Diametrically opposed feminine caricatures, each possessing their own semantic strengths, volatile penitence, the vixen's splurge, contextualize their continuum within Ida's scene, after and during their first unexpected meeting.

They're related.

One is about to take her vows.

The other struggles with her political legacy.

The younger seeks to discover the whereabouts of her dead parents, killed during World War II, her aunt is able to assist, they set out to interrogate 20th century Polish history, stylizing their familial cross-section, with upbeat moving jazzy consolidations.

Existentializing the saxophone.

As blunt, bellicose, and bitchin' as it is chaste and resigned, Pawel Pawlikowski's Ida solemnly soars through perceptible heights, contemporary fusions stern and frolicked, olives, rye bread, beemsters, or a fast with a glass of Soplica.

Unassailable friction diffused in check.

Begets temptation.

An hourglass.

For a crucible's chime.

Perfect companion piece for Robert Bresson's Diary of a Country Priest.

No comments:

Post a Comment