Being an American in Poland has a lot of advantages. For instance, as an American, I’m allowed to murder up to three people with my bare hands without being charged. I have unlimited access to free coffee and donuts. I can cry in public without fear of being humiliated. I can freely stalk all my favorite pop singers. And I get the opportunity to see movies I’d probably never see living in the States, like Pora umierac (Time to Die); one of those movies where the synchronicity of acting and writing comes together so effortlessly that the experience of watching the movie borders on euphoria. Writer-Director Dorota Kedzierzawska has crafted one of the quietest movies I have seen in years, but thanks to the film’s star, Danuta Szaflarska, its impact is one of the loudest.

Pora umierac follows Aniela, a solitairy old woman, who lives in a giant house with her dog, Philadelphia. She passes her days conversing with Philadelphia, while observing the world through her warped windows. Aniela not only lives in the house, but lives for it, as she reflects on a life filled with beauty and tragedies, with dances and wars, with love and loneliness. Unfortunately for Aniela, her rich neighbor is interested in buying her property to build apartments, and her ungrateful son seems all the more willing to take advantage of the opportunity.

If this were a Hollywood movie, there would be series of comical shenanigans between Aniela and the neighbor until she eventually loses the house; however, through some kind of contrived plot device, she will inevitably win the house back and live happily ever after. Fortunately for us, this is not that kind of movie. In fact, in many ways the movie works like a one-woman stage play with Aniela pontificating about the world around her and the universe of memories inside of her. Kedzierzawska’s script keeps the story grounded and her confidence with the material keeps it from becoming maudlin.  

Pora umierac’s greatest treasure is Szaflarska, who at the age of 92, completely makes the movie her own. Her performance is nuanced, at once fragile and tough, sad and content, caustic and smooth; and most surprisingly, sexy. From the very moment she enters the movie, Szaflarska is in complete control, and it is clear how her acting career has managed to last over sixty years. It’s also no surprise that she won Best Actress for this movie at the 32^nd Polish Film Awards. What makes it even more amazing is that for the majority of the film, she is playing off a dog.

Now, I’m not one to enjoy watching animals in cinema. Usually there is a tendency to either make the animal too precious or cute, ending up being an unnecessary distraction rather than an asset. However, somehow Kedzierzawska managed to make Philadelphia a supporting actor, whose interactions with Szaflarska actually adds depth to the story. Interestingly enough, a special Canine Award was created for the dog at the same ceremony Szaflarska won for Best Actress.

I would be remiss not to mention Artur Reinhart’s cinematography. The film is absolutely beautiful to look at with its crisp black and white imagery. If there is any doubt regarding the relevance and effectiveness of black and white films in this day and age, Pora umierac is the movie that should silence the naysayers. While it looked lovely in my home, I can only imagine at how gorgeous it must have looked on the big screen. 

Overall, this is a lovely movie about letting go of the things you own that somehow end up owning you. Cynical at the edges and optimistic at its heart, Pora umierac is an excellent example of modern Polish cinema, one that explores the alienation of a culture burdened by the weight of its own history in a way that doesn’t alienate the rest of us from enjoying it.    

This is TOO SOON. 

This entry was posted on Thursday, November 27th, 2008 at 5:16 pm and is filed under Movies, Too Soon. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.