Eerie, haunting, and beautifully constructed, the film “Ida” (2014) is set against the backdrop of Poland’s post-war, battle-scarred landscape. Directed by Polish-born filmmaker Paweł Pawlikowski, the movie traces the physical and emotional journeys of a novice nun, Anna (Agata Trzebuchowska) and her Communist aunt, Wanda Gruz (Agata Kulesza), as they attempt to find the buried bodies of Anna’s parents. Their quest takes them from Łódź, where Wanda lives, to Szydłów and Lublin. Yet, the somewhat simple narrative comprises more than just the details of a road trip. It reflects a journey of self-discovery and growth, of transformation and maturation.
Anna is just about to take her vows to become a nun when the Mother Superior tells her she must visit her only remaining family member, Wanda. Anna travels to visit her aunt, who reveals that Anna comes from a family of Jews and her real name is Ida. Ida says she would like to visit her parents’ graves, and the two set forth. They journey to the house where Ida’s family used to live, now occupied by a Pole named Feliks Skiba. With much reluctance, Feliks shows them the graves if they agree to give up claims on the house. Ida and Wanda discover later that this man killed Ida’s parents and Wanda’s young son.
For Ida, the film is a coming-of-age story. But what distinguishes this movie from other coming-of-age films is not plot or dialogue; it’s the expressive power of the unspoken. In the movie, the unsaid is just as compelling and revealing as the fleeting dialogues exchanged between characters. The film’s visual elements and the characters’ intentional silences speak volumes. Ida exploits the particular power of cinema to create a narrative.
Nowhere in the film does Pawlikowski directly offer historical context or explanatory details of the film’s time or place. The cinematography fills this contextual void by evoking the emotions needed to comprehend the scene, rather than the historical details. By conjuring feelings of desolation and gloom, the black-and-white film style not only reflects the bleak and oppressive backdrop of the unfolding story; but it also prepares viewers for the poignant narrative that is to come.
Only moments into the film, Anna’s personality is revealed. Reserved and rigid, the novice nun sits with her eyes downcast in front of the Mother Superior. When Anna eventually arrives at her aunt’s doorstep, she is greeted by a woman who sports a bathrobe, is smoking a cigarette, and has a male caller in her apartment. The woman appears to be the exact opposite of Anna. With minimal dialogue, Pawlikowski allows the viewers to conclude that compared to her brazen aunt, Anna is an image of purity, innocence, and naivety.
Just minutes after she sets foot in Wanda’s apartment, Anna hears her aunt’s shocking words: “You’re a Jew. They never told you? Your real name is Ida Lebenstein.” Without being told directly, the viewers learn that the movie takes place in the aftermath of the Holocaust. The young girl reacts wordlessly to this news, staring stricken but unflinchingly at her aunt and not uttering a single reply. And so begins their relationship, a tumultuous journey of affection and irritation, of give and take, and of love.
Their evolution is reflected most strongly through facial expressions and exchanged glances. As Ida sits in the train station, waiting to depart for the convent after meeting her aunt, the camera focuses first on the taciturn novice and then on her unabashed aunt watching from the distance through a window. Wanda gazes at Ida, and her expression is one of softness, care, and affection. Without any supporting dialogue, it is clear that she has begun to feel a connection with her niece, perhaps prompted by how much the young girl resembles Róża, Ida’s mother and Wanda’s sister.
As the narrative progresses, it is evident that Wanda isn’t the only one who draws closer to her newly discovered relative. Ida too demonstrates unspoken compassion toward her aunt, who is nearly a mother figure to her. This time, the affection is not revealed through facial expressions, but rather through gestures. After meeting the hospitalized older man who presumably killed Ida’s parents, Wanda remains stone-faced and still. The camera reveals not a shot of her face, but of her torso, as Ida slips her arm around her aunt and gives her a gentle but supportive squeeze. The silent gesture reveals the blossoming attachment between the two.
The strengthening aunt-niece relationship is what ultimately enables Wanda to serve as a catalyst for Ida’s maturation. Watching her aunt smoke, drink, dance, play music, and flirt with men, Ida is introduced to a version of adulthood that contrasts starkly with her experience in the convent. Toward the end of the film, Ida chooses to explore the meaning of adulthood and exercise her own autonomy by doing what she’s watched her aunt do. Ida slips on heels and a sleeveless black dress. She smokes a cigarette and drinks alcohol. She sleeps with the hitchhiking saxophonist, Lis, whom she and Wanda met on their way to Szydłów. Her initial reserve and restraint are slowly overshadowed by a flaming boldness that has no doubt been inspired by her aunt, resulting in the former novice exploring her identity. Perhaps she is also influenced by her aunt’s words at the start of the film: if you don’t partake in sinful acts, how is becoming a nun a sacrifice?
Wanda’s character is associated with music in addition to smoking and drinking. She plays music in her car, dances in the hotel, and listens to the record player in her home. The final scene concludes with piano music, memorializing Wanda and her effect on her niece’s growth, while also serving as a reminder of the Anna that Ida used to be.