In “Wolf Street” messages in Warsaw, a migrant movie director takes to the streets-and this means that he picks up the modest sidewalks below his window. What begins as a series of satirical observations about the vicinity of the direct director gradually exceeds that it is a vibrant (self -reflection) reflection on the modern texture of Poland, as it was narrated through the eyes of the Indian director Arjun Talwar, who served him a decade ago in the country did not approach him to feel mainly.
Talwar tells the entire film in the Indian Polish, which reads like an attempt to assimilate by making films with a focus on its external position. He was attracted to Poland Cinema from New Delhi, putting the details of his step alongside his late friend Uday, a radical artist who sought to donate and rebel, while Talwar tried to mix. The syndrome lies in the overall “messages from Wolf Street Street”, even in its most incurring exchanges with her colleagues in the processes, and biology equipment for a long time (store (Writer Store, Post Curtain) and daily passers -by.
Wolf Street is a high pocket of aging full of history, including lead holes from World War II, but Talwar picks it up with noisy enthusiasm. These fencing sensations are emphasized by the degree of Alcander McCovsky, which deviates between artistic bleeding and haunting flowers, a mixture of severe cultures. In the fabric of the film itself is achieved questions about belonging – of cultural origin – which TalWar achieves with its digital camera, which imitates the nostalgia of the Silic 16 mm in this process. Although he runs his lens from time to time, his informal audit of contemporary Polish life and changing the demographics draws a broader image of the world inhabited, and is often in ways of the cheek tongue.
His approach to interviews is disarmament. Sometimes, this leads to a shocking funny moments of explicit racism (if it is of a good intention at times) of the older local population, who feel comfortable in its presence to lose. He welcomed and refused. With a cinematic school alongside him (Chinese immigrant director MO TAN), Talwar ends with the vital contemporary discussions about the increasing right -wing feelings in Europe, as well as the intimate corners of his own experience.
The question of what it means is that the Polish remains on the lips of most of its operation, and the answers appear in the great Talwar. Some of them are about the mood, while others are about lineage; There are a few of them revolving around the ethics of work from the Poles who claim to love immigrants, but they do so conditionally. Feeling excluding from such results, so that the director searches for the annuals of Polish history for important non-white personalities that contributed to the country and its culture-an African general, the representative of Tahia-as if acceptance could be a process retroactively.
This issue is brilliantly contradicted with the ongoing talks about nostalgia for the national past, and how the past could become a poison, as if it was subject to the same temptations. However, this motivation to search in the past about the answers also requires a sudden form, when Talwar looks at an older movie (by a Polish director, Jacimovsky) takes an amazingly similar topic, and connecting it to more heritage of the pictorial spaces.
There is a rough honesty for Odwar through the history of his city bloc and the curious opinions of its inhabitants that make it kindly confrontation, without placing its author and lens on the outstanding statue. Even when the new Nazi demonstrations immersed him, Talwar does not want anything more than belonging-tightening the ethical nerves that provides a feeling of danger. The result is the film that you feel reflected in its torn -to -texture between new cultures, and it mixes the worlds of the personal artistic journey and the broader ethnographic study. It is more intelligent than people will give them the credit, which, if not something else, is an accurate depiction of the life of migrants in the Western hemisphere.