One may get the impression that there’s some anti-oneiric curse upon Polish cinema, which doesn’t allow Polish creators to find their own way of presenting dreams on-screen. That, however, would be much too simplistic an answer.
It’s enough to recall the two attempts made hitherto by Marcin Krzyształowicz, who – in The Kindergarten Teacher and the much better-made Mr. T – reached for oneiric aesthetics as a tool to describe a character in the middle of his or her creative process. Instead of getting intoxicated with the effect of ‘dreamy’ shots and the ‘visionary’ quality of his own film, Krzyształowicz consistently built his filmic world on the point of contact between reality and imagination, inviting the viewers to join a conversation about the nature of the creative process.
Kuba Czekaj, a prodigy of Polish art-house cinema, has also proved numerous times throughout the years that the aesthetic of a dream image needn’t be a blind for intellectual emptiness and padding. In his The Erlprince (originally: Królewicz Olch) and the earlier Baby Bump, surrealist images as if taken straight from Donnie Darko come together to create poignant stories about the horror of growing up, and the young director uses their aesthetic uniqueness to build coherent and well-thought-out plots.
Two interesting Polish directors have also been trying to convince the audience of the benefits of oneirism. By using a dreamlike aesthetic in The Lure, Agnieszka Smoczyńska combined Polish Romantic literature with a nostalgic journey to the times of the communist regime. Her story about sirens making careers in Warsaw dance bars in the 1980s will surely remain one of the most original Polish plots of both the current and the next decade.
And so will be two films by Jagoda Szelc, who, thanks to her dream images, was acclaimed the ‘witch’ of Polish cinema. All it took was her first full-length film Tower. A Bright Day, made – as the poster claimed – ‘based on future events’, weaved out of sharp images, surreal shots and surrealistic events. It’s Szelc who now seems to be the successor of Polish cinema’s oneiric tradition, consciously using its tools and working within its limitations.
On-screen dreaming isn’t an easy thing. Polish cinema often treats it as an escape – not only from reality, but also from the demands often imposed on realist stories. Everything seems possible in the world of dreams, and the rules governing cinematography appear less binding. This, however, is just an illusion – true oneiric films require self-discipline and imagination as well as Has-like precision. They also demand an awareness that, while balancing on the edge of the real and the unreal, one also balances on the border between an artistic success and an ignominious failure.
Originally written in Polish, Dec 2020, translated by AP, Mar 2021