‘Woman Of…’ Review: Małgorzata Szumowska and Michał Englert Manage a Delicate Balancing Act in Portrayal of Trans Life in Poland | Venice

Małgorzata Szumowska and Michał Englert have frequently made reference to Poland’s lack of progress with regards to LGBT rights – the lone EU member state with no laws on gender identity and refusing to recognise same-sex marriage – as being a fundamental reason for them deciding to write and direct Woman Of…. In its choice to centre its narrative around a trans protagonist, Aniela Wesoly, the 45-years spanning story against the changing backdrop of Poland from the 1980s to 2020s makes for an intriguing combination from the outset. As Poland makes progress in its society, the trans community remains ostracised and lacking in the supposed ‘freedoms’ of this progressive society. 

Woman Of… opens with a tone that leans more into the comic, with the young Aniela, still going by the name and identity Andrzej courts wife-to-be Iza in an extended meet-cute sequence. Directed with a colourful, feverish pace and editing that embraces in the cheesiness of its big romantic swings, this sequence has its moments but feels a bit too absurd at points. Luckily, the film soon starts calming down and exploring the central journey. The early scenes of Aniela’s realisation of her identity are tricky ones to pull off, but for the most part Szumowska and Englert avoid the dangerous pitfalls that befell the likes of Tom Hooper’s The Danish Girl, where its protagonist’s journey was depicted as surface level transformation completely separate identity. Woman Of… focuses on elements of Aniela exploring herself externally by dressing in women’s clothes for the first time, seeking medical advice, and exploring her sexuality, but most essentially it is shown to be a self-realisation from within rather than some purely external transformation.

For the role of Aniela, Szunowska and Englert have cast two cis actors in the part across different ages: Mateusz Więcławek as the younger version and Malgorzata Hajewska as the older version. This will of course inevitably be subject to discussion, and rightfully so given the dearth of roles for trans actors across all film industries. Szunowska and Englert’s explanation being that in Poland there are few trans actors, and even fewer with the required experience and education to handle a lead role of this scale. There remains a lingering feeling that, like Trace Lysette in last year’s Monica, a Venice premiere could’ve spotlighted a trans performer in the leading role. But setting that discussion aside, without disregarding it, Więcławek does some earnest and charming work in the early stages of the film, while Hajewska in particular is rather great, with her expressive eyes and intricate physical acting, conveying every step of Aniela’s story of essentially finding the will and courage to finally live her life in the open as her true self. As Aniela’s wife Iza, Bogumila Bajor and Joanna Kulig are both very good, the latter in particular finding lots of depth in Iza’s complicated reactions of frustration and anger, but also love and sympathy towards Aniela’s situation. 

Szumowska and Englert take on what is for the most part quite a light and breezy tone in telling Aniela’s story. The challenges that encounter Aniela come in ebbs and flows, where even the sadder moments are usually quickly accompanied by a moment of solace or enjoyable humour. Verbal conflicts between Aniela and her family are usually dealt with, if not fully resolved, quickly enough. The film is wise to find variation between how Aniela’s family reacts across generations – her children are quickly accepting and compassionate, her parents more reticent and less inclined to acknowledge her as Aniela. Rather than constantly creating new narrative conflicts, much of the tension in the narrative revolves around Aniela wanting to embrace her new lifestyle but also not wanting to give her life up, particularly Iza and their two children. The frustrations in embracing herself as a woman by stifling Polish laws, and the way it takes its toll on Aniela and her relationship with her loved ones is heartrending. And when Aniela finds glimmers of hope throughout the film, there is a wonderful quality to Szumowska and Englert’s direction in how they portray optimism and small acts of kindness, and manages to make the friends and strangers who begin to embrace Aniela’s identity quite heartwarming. 

Perhaps the most powerful element of the film, which greatly benefits from the decades spanning structure, are scenes where Aniela ruminates on her life having been half lived as ‘Andrzej’, where she feels she may have waited too long to live her truth. In these scenes, which often involve Aniela interacting with other trans characters, the film finds something quite special in showing the bittersweetness of Aniela’s predicament, where her reprieve from a life spent enclosed from the world also leads her to think of what could’ve been. There is a real sweetness to the way Aniela finds more and more people who empathise with her plight as the film progresses, and as much as this is a film about the struggle for Aniela to embrace her life as a truth, there is also much to rejoice in her journey.

The film is at its most poignant when Aniela ruminates on her life half lived as a man in a small town, where she feels she may have waited too long to live her truth and feels like she is starting from scratch. Within this bittersweetness of her blossoming, the optimism of Szumowska and Englert’s approach allows us a reprieve in what is essentially, a fairytale story, which isn’t always wholly successful but whose heart and soul pays dividends. Doctors, therapists and other professionals do not seem to understand, or want to understand her case; only relatively late in the film does Aniela begin to come across individuals like herself, or individuals with more empathy, where she begins to receive treatment and advice that helps rather than hinders her right to her own body and gender identity.  

The film sometimes comes close to an overly idealised portrait of the trans experience in a society that makes it such a struggle through its laws and decrees, but knows when to temper itself and make us feel the blunt reality of Aniela’s predicament. But for the most part the film’s light and empathetic tone works well for its specific approach. What we have here is essentially a fairytale of sorts, never too emotionally heavy yet striving to never feel insincere. It is this endearing heart and enthusiasm that Woman Of… takes towards its subject matter that makes it an enjoyable, lovely watch. 

Rating: B+

This review is from the 2023 Venice Film Festival.