Poland isn’t a dense country, not compared to the more cosmopolitan western hubs nor the southern; not even with the migrant populations considered: not by any objective standard, should you not ask a severe xenophobe living in the plains, or an empty duffel bag confined to the attic since the times of the PRL.
Sure, the two-three major towns (Warszawa, Kraków, Łódź) might argue otherwise. Any historic or daytime commercial district might appear busy with its tourism and the electric cigarette smoking contingent.
But let’s get real. It tramples under the ass of the analogous worldwide or even Western European hubs I’ve passed through, or even Berlin just a short reach away. It’s no Detroit, but it’s no Byzantium either.
Gliding down certain wide, fairly well lit and lavishing alleys of Poznań after a certain hour feels not unlike a Noir picture. We’re talking of considerably well developed areas of high European craftsmanship; by a standard of anywhere I’ve been or seen.
… Like a wide angle Noir or Neo-Noir picture, precisely: be it the pouring acid rain of New York, the Sunny California grotesque, or the bleak post-Expressionist Germany. (Despite the term origins, I’m hardly acquainted with French cinema).
Except I’ve always thought of those sets in rather artificial if not allegorical terms. Cinematic chicanery has as far as adapted Moroccan souks for the Noir tradition (take, for instance, the disturbingly surreal Naked Lunch).
But some of these areas of Poznań, a city among the top five or six most populous, you could film on location, as-is: apply some highly saturated decolorization to inspire that 1980s Poland semblance, and attain the desired effect.
And quiet often, even the historic center I confuse for an elegantly crafted maquette, not unlike the capital’s, except the latter boasts more bodies.
Oftentimes across some of these charming alleys and carrefours, there isn’t a soul to be seen through the eyes of this soul.
For those seeking a fairly homogeneous, clean, calm, yet highly developed setting, Poland might impress a sense of a utopia at least to those not from around or inclined to identify problems and ejaculate complaints at the first opportunity; at least for those not bored by the dynamic, as I feel I can only occupy for so long. Though my prerogatives tend to be complex and manifold.
So Poland could aspire to a trophy in the said regard, if only, well, if only they cursed a bit less around here.
Questions, comments? Connect.