Cold War: unexplained intensity
- JORGE MARIN

- Feb 1, 2019
- 2 min read
Updated: Sep 12
Cold War is an amazing movie in all aspects. Starting with the 4:3 screen format, almost square, in contrast to the modern trend of widescreen productions. The beautiful photograph of the young Polish cinematographer Łukasz Żal features a black and white figured out in a striking and intimate chiaroscuro.
Following the track of an unlikely couple, a conductor who researches folk songs and a singer and dancer, the film recounts the relationship of 15 years, mainly occurred in the 50s, which, in any other production, would be an epic but here it is reduced to fast scenes of a passion that transits between unexplained intensity and challenged impossibility. Although time is linear, it occurs in uneven spaces and with no clue as to when the scene occurs.
It is as if the script wants to prove at every moment that reality always finds a way to demolish all the plans and dreams. This is how the group of Polish traditions that intends to represent the true rural art ends up being co-opted by the communist party, unfurling a gigantic poster of Lenin. The musician Wiktor invites his beloved Zula to cross the border to the West in Berlin (there was no wall yet), but the girl has other priorities.
From this first mismatch, others occur. Paris does not match the ideal dreamed by Wiktor, who becomes a pianist in a club and composes soundtracks for horror movies. Eventually, they get together, but the relationship does not work out. The musician tries to return to Poland, goes to Yugoslavia to attend a performance of the Mazurek troupe just to see Zula, but none of this works either.
The ending of the movie is breathtakingly beautiful. After going through all the misfortunes and managing to overcome geographical, political and psychological barriers, the couple, named after Pawlikowski's parents, finally solve the problem of remaining together. Forevermore.















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