Ida (2013)

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'Ida' was a wonderfully understated coming of age, discovery story. From acclaimed Polish-British director Pawel Pawlikowski we were thrown back to 1962 with black and white footage and a recovering post-war Poland. Ida is about to take her vows as a nun having been raised in a convent before meeting her only surviving relative and discovering that she is in fact Jewish and that all of her family are dead. Ida narrowly escaped the same fate, being only an infant and unidentifiable as Jewish and so, Ida and her aunt, set off on a journey to find out what happened to their relatives and what it means for them.

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There are a few stylistic choices within the film that I'm not sure I understood. For example, the many shots framed so that the action took place right at the bottom of the screen with five times the head room above it. I'm not sure what it was symbolising, was it the masses of information they still had to find out about their family, was it to make our characters seem small in a much bigger world, was it the weight of what lay ahead of them pushing down on them, or was it just an artistic choice? Who knows, but it was an interesting new perspective.

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The power of 'Ida' was more in the silences than in what is said. The script is subtle, the emotion hidden, it is left for us the audience, to determine. It does not over indulge in moments. We never see the reaction from the elderly man that hid their family after he has been accused of killing them. We never revisit his son whom killed the family once he has shown Ida and her aunt where they were buried. We don't dwell too long on missed moments which is remarkably innovative in a film where these moments of discovery are the motives of our two main characters.

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Similarly though, I'm still not sure if I liked this or if I hated it, but we don't dwell on the fact that we never really know anything about the family. Only that they were Jewish, they were hidden in a barn and then killed in the woods. We instead dreamt up the personalities of our victims for ourselves. But perhaps Pawel Pawlikowski was making a post-war statement, that no-one remembered who our victims were before they became victims. The generation and identity of so many, was lost. We can draw whatever meaning we wish from the films stylistic choices and subtlety, and I think that is perhaps why I like it so much. You could watch it in a cinema and everyone could take away something different. It's nice to have a bit of ambiguity on screen for a change.

 The only part of the film I was frustrated by, is not knowing. We don't know what goes on inside Ida's head. We don't ever hear her vocalise her reactions, even as she mourns and belatedly takes on her aunts advice and experiences life before she vows to sacrifice it. But the final scene doe not give anything away. She walks towards the convent, we think, and will now take her vows...but will she? What will become of Ida? I wanted to know!

We may never know, but the subtlety and haunting nature of 'Ida' will stay with me for some time. I will definitely watch it again soon, to see what more I can decipher from the silence.

The Trench

A Monday night at the theatre after a busy weekend of filming was apparently just what the doctor ordered. Greenwich Theatre was host to hit Edinburgh Fringe Show 'The Trench' by Les Enfants Terribles. The audience walked into a smoky auditorium with the outline of a blackened trench showing the stage. It took a while for me to notice the members of the cast sitting in the darkness also.

http://lesenfantsterribles.co.uk/shows/the-trench/

My lack of awareness was probably because of the sense of dread I had at the amount of teenagers there on a school trip. I wouldn't normally have minded this but fifteen minutes into the production, having listened to a wealth of inappropriate comments by a single teenage boy, I, not far from teen-hood myself, had to turn around and tell him to be quiet for me to actually begin to start understanding and becoming part of the performance.

Back to the show.

As the play began I found it a little difficult to get used to the main character's third person narration. Once I'd settled into it though, it got easier to follow and the physical theatre was not only supportive of this narration, but simply brilliant. The incorporation of minimal props, of shadows, of projection, of movement, of puppetry and of song was what made a fairly ordinary written piece, into a stunning one.

The still images I've included show you just how imaginative Les Enfants Terribles have been with their production although it doesn't not show you the carefully choreographed movement that accompanied each episode. The breathing in of the monster during the 'gas attack', the moving of the set across the stage during the projections to give the illusion of time and movement, the beautiful embodiment of the beast and of our soldier's wife. 

The set was more than just a prop, it was a part of the production, cleverly designed to seamlessly interact with the cast. The props are passed through it, the lights are shone through it, the cast are seen within it and above it, it folds down to show the bedroom of our soldiers pregnant wife, it moves and collapses to become part of our soldier's journey and to show the disorientation of being buried alive - but to name a few.

The props and puppets were beautifully made and we as an audience appreciate them all the more as they are so tenderly manoeuvred. A particular favourite moment was when the wife reaches out her hand for the rain and snow and smooths over the snow beneath her.

There was symbolism everywhere too. The story follows our entrenched soldier as he faces three challenges from the beasts of his prison, challenges to prove his good and strong heart. The first, is to walk the path of the dead and not falter. Overcome his fear and walk on towards the exit - The fear that comes with war. The second, to tell another beast what you could possibly give those in charge of war to stop them, as smoke rises and blisters his skin, he answers nothing - a gas attack and battling hallucination and pain to stay true to the cause of war. The third, to put his inner child aside and others first as he rescues his comrade buried alongside him - the loss of childhood innocence and camaraderie that came with war, lost brothers in arms. All symbols within the symbol of walking the path towards death. Pain, loss of hope then one last push before denial and death.

The walk towards the light could have been him facing death, it could have been the end of the war, it could have been his escaping the tunnel. The truth may be death but the production leaves it so we make up our minds, create our own story, our own endings... as they who fought could not.

Overall a wonderful piece with a voice that transcended our subconscious into seeking every metaphor, asking every question. A tremendous voice that I am eternally grateful exists outside of the theatre circuit. He stills your soul with his falsetto and makes our journey with 'The Trench' complete. You can buy his music here: http://alexanderwolfe.bandcamp.com/

Enough of the poetry, a truly stunning show that was not to be ruined by the ignorant teenage boy at the start, who failed to appreciate the emotive performance we all became a part of.

http://lesenfantsterribles.co.uk/shows/the-trench/