Ida

Ida is not only an evocation of early '60s Poland, the period of Pawlikowski's childhood, but a film that gives the illusion that it could have been made then.

Now that Paweł Pawlikowski's haunting Polish film has been nominated for a foreign-language Oscar, Ida is back in the conversation. Let yourself be enveloped by a modern cinema classic.

Nestled within its sins-of-the-elders narrative is a faintly charming cross-generational bonding picture, pairing a worldly cynic with a young girl taking her last gasp of secular air before giving her life to the Lord.

Trzebuchowska is certainly the film's other great asset: all the performances are great, but she is not even an actress, having been spotted by a producer in a cafe and hired almost on the spot. You'd never believe it.

Pawlikowski has a photographer's eye for composition, and every crisp, monochrome frame could be a postcard from Poland's tragic, turbulent past.

With her brassy, determined aunt, Ida sets off to find answers and discovers life beyond the convent walls in this leisurely but satisfying journey.

This is easily one of the best films of the year and nails everything it was going for.

With beautiful black-and-white cinematography and two extraordinary female performances, this is a movie that captures both a particular time and place as well as a conflicting way of life in wonderful fashion.

It’s a religious test, as suggested when Wanda replies to Ida’s request to seek her buried parents, “What if you find there’s no God?” Well, there is a God, and He’s lovingly observing Ida through the film’s perfectly framed static compositions[.]

There is no overt outrage in the film, just an oppressive silence of grief. The stillness is occasionally interrupted by the sounds of Poland’s nascent youth culture played in lonely interiors à la Edward Hopper.