Review: Cold War (Zimna wojna)
Designed as a love letter to his parents, Paweł Pawlikowski's latest film, Cold War (Zimna wojna), is an achingly beautiful tale about a romance that spans decades and borders. Though played out in the shadow of the iron curtain of postwar Europe, the cold war in question is less about the clashing political ideologies of the time and more about the battle between its central duo, whose passion is intense, tempestuous and, at times, hostile.
The film begins in Poland in 1949 as composer, arranger, and conductor Wiktor (Tomasz Kot) as he and colleague Irena (Agata Kulesza) tour villages in search of performers to recruit for their new folk culture troupe. Inspired by the real-life Mazowsze troupe, their Mazurek ensemble aims to showcase the authentic sounds of Poland. Into Wiktor's midst enters Zula (Joanna Kulig), a striking young woman who poses as a village girl to secure an audition in which she sings a song she learned from a Russian movie. Irena is wary of Zula, but even rumours of Zula having killed her father ("He mistook me for my mother, so I used a knife to show him the difference," Zula later matter-of-factly explains) fails to deter Wiktor who, obviously smitten, believes that Zula has a certain something.
Indeed, with Kulig in the role, it's not particularly difficult to be besotted with Zula. Kulig is an electric presence - she possesses an aura of one who's experienced the darker side of life and survived, along with a pugnaciousness that is at odds with her beguiling face, which recalls classic European beauties like Anna Karina, Monica Vitti, and Jeanne Moreau. Kot is no slouch himself, and his cool and urbane elegance (mis)matches to mesmerising effect with Kulig's fierce and tough sensuality.
The lovers find themselves driven apart by forces both internal and external. The troupe's administrator Kaczmarek (Boris Szyc) forces them to incorporate hymns to Stalin and agricultural reform in their repertoire. Wiktor escapes to Paris at the first available opportunity, though is dismayed when Zula reneges on her promise to join him. They reunite years later - he's now a jazz pianist, she has married some Sicilian in order to obtain the passport that allows her to join him in Paris. She'll later marry someone else to pull the strings she needs to get him released from jail when he's arrested for defecting. She's uncertain the bohemian life is for her, she's not even certain that he's the same man in Paris as he was in Poland. They come together to split apart to come together to split apart, and on the cycle goes.
The lovers are always trying to escape something, but they are inextricably tied to whatever they are fleeing from, whether it be a country or one another, and Pawlikowski further emphasises this by using a boxy 4:3 aspect ratio. For a tale that takes place over several decades and locations, it is told with a spareness and economy that very well suits its bluesy romanticism, but which may disappoint viewers who prefer their narrative with more detail. Nevertheless, Pawlikowski and his actors perfectly convey the turbulent rhythms of this particular romance with clarity and precision. "Time," as one character states, "doesn't matter when you're in love," and Cold War demonstrates how absolutely true that is.
Cold War (Zimna wojna)
Directed by: Paweł Pawlikowski
Written by: Paweł Pawlikowski, Janusz Głowacki
Starring: Joanna Kulig, Tomasz Kot, Borys Szyc, Agata Kuleszka, Jeanne Balibar, Cédric Kahn
