Living life close to nature, at a pace determined by the sequence of day and night – is a dream many long for. Some dare to chase it, to exchange the urban life and its comforts for simplicity. Polish director Lidia Duda’s Forest follows a family that chased that dream, living in the wilderness – a simple existence captured by the camera in soft light that will make many nostalgic for their childhood summers at their grandparents’ home. The poetic aesthetics and the calm of hanging the laundry with no rush, tending to bees and chicken, and exploring the natural world – the life of this family of five touches on a deep universal longing for a slow life, back to the basics. But in the backstage of their dream-like days, the world they left behind catches up with them, becoming a reality they can’t ignore.
Polish-Belarusian border
No matter how deep into the forest they might have gone, the harsh realities of the turbulent political climate outside this natural bubble disrupt their peaceful coexistence with the trees and the wind. Their home is located in the forest in the very eastern part of Poland, and their secluded paradise is encroached upon by refugees seeking solace across the Polish-Belarusian border. People pass through the forest continuously. Some hide, and some make improvised shelters in the forest. And also some of them die.
They risk their life because home is no longer home, yet helping these refugees seems to be against the law in Poland. Many of them are pushed back across the border. And so the family finds itself at a crossroads, torn between abiding by the law or following the rules of what feels right in their heart.
Cinematographer Zuzanna Zachara-Hassairi skilfully portrays the delicate balance between tranquillity and unease in their secluded haven while the veil of night unveils a world fraught with suspense and uncertainty. Through meticulous editing and evocative sound design, the film navigates the shifting dynamics of light and shadow, illuminating the complexities of the family’s dual existence – one of domestic bliss by day, of forest hikes, and a sense of looming unexpected danger by night.
This captures a sense of dark mystery and unease, which bleeds into the family’s life, reality, and inner world. It soon became clear that their backyard, which seemed safe and calm, was anything but that. Instead, it is a path of pain.
No matter how deep into the forest they might have gone, the harsh realities of the turbulent political climate outside this natural bubble disrupt their peaceful coexistence with the trees and the wind.
Cannot be ignored
This cannot be ignored. They cannot go on living their lives as if nothing is happening. They know, and once they know, the urgent appeal to their compassion is constantly present. They might be sheltered from the noise of urban life, but they can’t be sheltered from the reality that safety and help are needed and available for others depending on the colour of their skin.
The mother’s increasing inner conflict mirrors their environment’s external tensions. Dialogues between her and her husband are filled with sorrow, and moments of vulnerability reveal a profound sense of shame and powerlessness.
The impact on the children is more subtle yet even more confronting as they soon acquire the vocabulary to discuss what is happening amongst themselves. They talk about how refugees have become part of their everyday lives. Why is one not allowed to help a fellow human? Why do these people end up hurt and in need of help? They try to make sense of something stripped to the core of what it means to be human, but it doesn’t make sense at all. The children and their dialogues make the story’s fabric – they want to make sense of what they see, with innocence and heart, amidst the uncertainty surrounding them.
Interconnection
Capturing the life and the inner world of this family, Forest is, in fact, simultaneously a subtle and complex film. It goes beyond the traditional refugee narrative, challenging notions of choice, freedom, a happy life, and the right thing to do. It points to how interconnected we all are and how what hurts others hurts us too, sooner or later. It points to how a country’s rules and policies may make sense at a macro level, but when it comes to the individual, they play out differently, and other rules may apply. In nature, the rules of living, survival, and love are more immediate and simple. And at its core, this forest story tells of how a home cannot be home, if others cannot find home too.
