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The Polish Bride
Netherlands 1998
Reviewed by Charlotte O'Sullivan
Synopsis
Our synopses give away the plot in full, including surprise twists.
Anna, a young Polish girl, is discovered bloody and bruised by Dutch farmer Henk. He takes her in even though he has worries of his own - he's trying to secure a bridging loan, having failed to keep up payments to the bank. Under Henk's care, she gradually blossoms and a friendship and sexual attraction develops between them. A young man arrives asking for Anna, but Henk sends him away. Henk and Anna are by now in love, although Anna continues to sleep in the spare room and still misses her little daughter Krystyna to whom she is able to write and from whom she receives pictures. The young man reappears, accompanied by an older man; they are Anna's employers, demanding money in return for her release from her "contract". They say they'll return the next day.
The bank decide not to give Henk a bridging loan. When the men return and find Henk won't pay them they beat him up. That night, Anna gets into his bed. The next day, the men return. Henk shoots the older man and Anna plants an axe in the younger one's head. Henk buries the bodies and Anna departs, leaving behind one of Krystyna's pictures. Some time later, she reappears with Krystyna. Henk is overjoyed.
Review
The Polish Bride begins, like so many thrillers, with a beautiful, scantily clad woman in distress (it soon becomes clear she's not wearing knickers) and a thumping soundtrack. Soon, she's tumbled into the life of a bachelor farmer and is lying naked in bed, a breast half-exposed, with the farmer looking on, warily entranced. The tension is supposed to lie in the contrast between her interior world, blasted as it is by memories of rape in a hotel room (predatory men, foreign space) and her new exterior one (a potentially predatory man, undoubtedly foreign space). Her horrified moans and spasms link the two, the experience of these flashbacks lending an almost orgasmic glow to her features. Will the farmer aid her or abuse her?
It's a tension The Polish Bride exploits rather than explores. Anna's emaciated face, dark bedraggled hair and perfect flesh are pure Dazed and Confused fashion spread, a vision of victimhood free of ugliness or inhibition, a titillating fantasy of vulnerability. Neither the rapists' nor the farmer's viewpoint appears aberrant, because Anna's only function is that of a sexual object. Most insidious of all, Henk comes off as saintly just because he doesn't make a move on her.
But once Anna opens her eyes her realness is impossible to ignore. With her fierce boy-soldier bones, Monic Hendrickx, like Sandrine Bonnaire, knows how to convey the strangeness of the gender divide. Growing in confidence, Anna begins dressing like a woman, but the transformation is never quite complete - she looks at one moment like a duchess, the next a drag queen. That her foray into femininity begins with Henk's (dead) mother's wardrobe merely adds to the Norman Bates feel of these scenes. In order to awaken Henk's adult sexuality (and her own), Anna must entangle herself in the repressive past. The whole geographical area (Northern Holland) is caught in this conspiracy. Shopping trips become a source of great pleasure to both Anna and Henk, but all their new clothes look like dour 60s stuff. If Anna discovers a keen, sensual 'otherness' within herself, it's in spite of this culture's rigidly defined sexual norms.
The scenes between her and Henk grow in subtlety. As Anna begins to learn Dutch it's his discomfort with the language that becomes apparent. Bending over her shoulder as she looks through her dictionary, he huffs and puffs with diffidence, correcting her like a man extracting a loved one's teeth. His twin desires paralyse him - he wants to tear Anna away from her Polish identity but at the same time preserve a silence which protects him. His emotional need for her is palpable: When Henk watches Anna, his breathing is audible on the soundtrack. He's so absorbed, he doesn't realise his carefully bottled insides are escaping right under his nose.
The danger for the film, at this point, is that Anna will simply turn into that stock figure, the outsider who brings a little fun into the life of a good-hearted but crotchety loner. But the use of the Dutch land and light keep the film grounded. Inside Henk's dark home, the camera moves with a sea-sick rhythm, squashed and squeezed between heavy tables and chairs. By contrast, when fixed on white light pouring in through curtains, or acres of soil sitting under low, low skies, the camera is blissfully calm. Refusing to be hurried, Algerian-born director Karim Traïdia drags us into the mushroom-coloured heart of this landscape and makes us love it. Showing Anna his family album, Henk proudly talks her through a photograph with his father and "the new tractor" as if it were a part of the family, and what could have been a joke at the country-boy's expense, here makes perfect sense. Having kept the predictable at bay for so long, however, Traïdia finally succumbs. As the two strands of plot collide (the bank refusing Henk money, Anna's employers - obviously pimps, who have lured her to the country with false promises of work - demanding it) it all falls horribly into place: the cruel, bureaucratic banking system is the flip side of the blackmarket, both city-bound organisations wielding bits of paper that force good people to take the law into their own hands.
In interviews, Traïdia has talked about his inspiration for the film being his childhood memories of farmers, who "were so simple, so kind". This is the sentimental language of the fairytale and that's what The Polish Bride becomes. Anna's pimp employers are utterly evil so we feel nothing when they're killed. More to the point, Anna commits her purging act without consequence. A false sense of urgency is injected by making us think the deaths will break the couple apart (we see Anna putting the mother's clothes back in the wardrobe) but the ending is a happy one, with the symbolic family reunited.
It's a real pity, because Henk and Anna were shaping up to be fascinating characters. Imagine Tess of the D'Urbervilles cut short before Angel Clare's misogynistic weakness had been exposed; imagine Tess' murder of Alec D'Urberville going unchallenged. Or, to bring things more up to date, imagine Will It Snow for Christmas ending with daddy home to stay and a big knees up round the fire. These portraits of agricultural life may tend towards the sadistic, but Traïdia's bypasses pain altogether. It's worth noting that The Polish Bride has won a great deal of prizes (seven international awards in all). Clearly, fairytales are what judges want.
Credits
- Producers
- Marc Bary
- Ilana Netiv
- Jeroen Beker
- Frans van Gestel
- Screenplay/Idea
- Kees van der Hulst
- Adaptation
- Karim Traïdia
- Director of Photography
- Jacques Laureys
- Editor
- Chris Teerink
- Art Director
- Anne Winterink
- Music
- Fons Merkies
- ©Motel Films/IJswater Films/VPRO
- Production Companies
- IJswater Films and Motel Films with VPRO in association with Stichting Nederlands Fonds voor de Film/Stichting Co-Produktiefonds Binnenlandse Omroep/Stimuleringsfonds Nederlandse Culturele Omroepproducties
- Production Manager
- Judith Reuten
- Location Manager
- Erik Moesker
- Assistant Directors
- Casper Thiel
- Michael Shabtay
- Script Supervisor
- Nana Jongerden
- Casting
- Hans Kemna
- Job Gosschalk
- Betty Post
- Scanning
- Valkieser Capital Images
- Special Effects
- Arthur van Oest
- Costume Designers
- Daniëlle van Eck
- Monica Petit
- Costumer
- Hajé Mars
- Hair/Make-up
- Lida van Straten
- Monique Mierop
- Title Design
- Image Creations
- Musicians
- Piano:
- Liduine van Dijk
- Cello:
- Hanneke Hoogerwerf
- Clarinet:
- Karin Wilschut
- Drums:
- Wim Konink
- Music Recording
- Hans Ravestein
- Studio Groenland Bussum
- Soundtrack
- "t' Hoogeland" by Ede Staal; "Stabat Mater, Op. 53 (for Solo Voices, Mixed Choir and Orchestra)" by Karol Szymanowski, performed by Polish Radio and Television Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Stanislaw Wislocki, soprano: Stefania Woytowicz; "Zamiast" by W. Korcz, M. Czapinska, performed by Monic Hendrickx
- Sound
- Eddy de Cloe
- Sound Editor/Mixer
- Marco Vermaas
- Agricultural Advisers
- Jan Duisterwinkel
- Klaas Frik
- Dog Trainer
- Dick Schuur
- Cast
- Jaap Spijkers
- Henk Woldring
- Monic Hendrickx
- Anna Krzyzanowska
- Rudi Falkenhagen
- father
- Roef Ragas
- son
- Hakim Traïdia
- postman
- Soraya Traïdia
- Krystyna Krzyzanowska
- Eyce
- Henk, the dog
- Certificate
- 15
- Distributor
- Artificial Eye Film Company
- 8,042 feet
- 89 minutes 22 seconds
- In Colour
- Subtitles