Ida has been compared to classic Polish cinema of the 1960s, talked about in the same light as movies called masterpieces. Without an astonishing knowledge of the films of Poland at that time, I was instead reminded many times of Loves of a Blonde (1965) a Czechoslovakian film made by the great Milos Forman. A delicate and marvellous depiction of the social mingling of male soldiers and female factory workers. This is movie is much more of a comedy though, but the stylist similarities to Ida are difficult to avoid. Nor would we want to.
Ida is somehow reminiscent of more popular European classics too; framed like rich postcards (A bout de souffle?), capturing the simple human movements (Jules et Jim?), lingering expressions (Le Samourai?), or even the flaunting of ample bare flesh, while never being gratuitous (Darling?). I thought of those movies, admirably, but only fleetingly, as I was dedicated wholly to Ida. Pawel Pawlikowski has executed a film that looks and feels like those they made in Europe in the sixties. Those great elementary movies of expression and social grandeur. Whether it is a homage to that cinematic era or an attempt at being authentic is really not an issue for debate at this time, as it appears refreshingly original in the modern day arena. A breath of fresh air.
Having just finished watching it the word too describe it was immaculate. In fact I was aware of this while watching it. You watch a movie and sometimes wonder where it will take you. Will it shift somehow to make me feel less about it? It did not. Could it be possible that the movie would go in a different direction and make me love it more? It could not. Some movie experiences blow you out of your seat. Some you forget about. Some make your eyelids heavy. Some movies distract you, or don’t captivate you enough that you become easily distracted by anything other than the movie. Ida is a quiet little movie that sits beside you, and is your friend for life.