Psychiatry Professor Joan Andrews (Lesley Manville) is told she’d either have to be a fool or have a death wish to visit Poland in the bitter cold of December in Winter of the Crow. In her case, it’s an invitation to speak at a conference that brings her on a plane from England into the heart of a country gripped by Communism. The latest film from Kasia Adamik plunges into the Cold War through the eyes of a foreigner, but the political thriller never quite shakes loose from the frigid, atmospheric grip of its setting.
For three decades, Professor Andrews has worked to rise to the top of her field, but as a woman, and someone from the West, her groundbreaking ideas are met with skepticism in Poland. There’s no time to be neurotic, she’s told, as the political situation in the country is such that everyone is occupied with their day to day survival. The Professor soon has a taste of what that means. The conference is interrupted by protests, and she’s quickly ferreted away to a flat belonging to the parents of her handler Alina (Zofia Wichlacz). Joan’s itinerary over the following days includes tours and various functions, but feeling disrespected, she’s ready to pack up and go back home. But overnight, the military takes over the government, martial law is declared, the borders are closed, and Alina goes into hiding.
So begins a Kafka-esque, nearly dreamlike journey for Joan. It turns out that Alina is an activist with Solidarity, the group that eventually helped dismantle the communist government in Poland. And not only is she wanted, but any associates too, and that includes Joan. Her Polaroid pictures of tanks lining the street and dead activist comrades puts Joan in grave danger. As she tries to stay ahead of the secret police, her fight for survival takes Joan from the revolutionary underground all the way to the British Embassy, for a meeting with an ambassador who may not be entirely trustworthy, played by Tom Burke.
What emerges is the portrait of two women, from two different generations, who nonetheless have much in common. Joan is a woman of practical solutions, who has carved out a career — rare for her gender at the time — through application and determination. Alina is an idealist, who looks to create a better world by subverting an unfair system. This is really the core of the film, inspired by a short story by Nobel Prize-winner Olga Tokarczuk, but it never quite feels fully formed. The audience may see the parallels of the characters, but Joan and Alina don’t see the echo in each other. Ultimately, this is a film about a privileged Westerner finally deciding to do a halfway decent thing and smuggle out evidence of the Polish government’s repression.
Perhaps aiming to drum up a pulse, Adamik includes a couple of chase sequences, but it’s clear it’s not the comfort zone for the filmmaker. A car chase is badly filmed and staged, lacking both choreography and coherence. The same goes for a pursuit on foot, as the cuts between Joan and her pursuer, an enigmatic Beata (Sascha Ley) who is eager to keep state secrets from slipping out of the country, similarly stumbles.
Carp is a traditional meal in Poland at Christmas, and it’s customary to keep the fish in the bathtub first, before killing and preparing it. But the fishmonger, as Joan learns, will offer to kill the fish for you if you prefer. It’s a broad and clumsy metaphor for the choices facing Joan and Alina, as they each must consider submitting to the pressures on their shoulders or attempting to fight for that last bit of air. Winter of the Crow never quite takes flight or ratchets up to the nerve-jangling possibilities of its story. But for just a few days, Joan understands why getting a mental health diagnosis isn’t at the top of mind for the Polish people fighting for the wellbeing of their very country.
Director: Kasia Adamik
Screenplay: Sandra Buchta, Kasia Adamik, Lucinda Coxon
Cast: Lesley Manville, Zofia Wichlacz, Andrzej Konopka, Sascha Ley, Tom Burke
Producers: Olga Chajdas, Stanislaw Dziedzic, Katarzyna Ozga, Nicolas Steil, Samantha Taylor
Cinematography: Tomasz Naumiuk
Production design: Aleksandra Kierzkowska
Costume design: Virginia Ferreira, Krzysztof Loszewski
Editing: Andonis Trattos
Music: Emre Sevindik
Sound: Gabriel Ohresser, Kacper Habisiak
Production companies: Wild Mouse Production (Poland), Film Produkcja (Poland), Iris Productions (Luxembourg), Film and Music Entertainment Ltd (United Kingdom)
World sales: HanWay Films
Venue: Toronto International Film Festival (Platform)
In English, Polish
112 minutes
