The history of Polish-American cinema is a story of Polish-born creators contributing to American film as old as the film itself. From silent films and the first film studios to directors and cinematographers achieving international acclaim, with their works considered part of the American film canon. But one doesn’t need to get back to 1890 to explore that side of the industry. The Polonica section at this year’s TAURON American Film Festival turned towards the present, exploring what it does best – all states of cinema.
The festival took place a month ago, but it’s the perfect moment for a look back – some of these films are now becoming available on digital streaming platforms, while others may reach theatres in 2026. Revisiting the Polonica section allows us not only to reflect on the films themselves but also to look at the Polish-American cinema, which continues to evolve through cross-cultural collaborations and independent productions. As diverse as they could be, all five films in the section examined familial bonds and their influence on our lives. What did the section look like this year? Does it reflect the current state of the Polish-American cinema? And how are these films shaping the conversation about identity, culture, and collaboration between Poland and the United States?
The American Family
Embarking on his international journey, after Corpus Christi (2019) was nominated for the Academy Awards for the Best International Feature Film, Jan Komasa has premiered not only one but two new films. While Good Boy is a British drama hitting horror undertones, starring Stephen Graham (Adolescence) and Andrea Riseborough (Birdman), Anniversary takes on the exploration of a modern American family being torn apart by fast-moving, far-right beliefs.
With an incredible ensemble cast (Diane Lane, Kyle Chandler, Madeline Brewer, Zoey Deutch, Phoebe Dynevor, Dylan O’Brien, and more) and great dialogue, unfortunately, comes a faltering pace at times. Some complain about the film’s ambiguity, some appreciate how open to interpretation it is. But for a story like that, it is somehow politically vague enough to avoid having any real impact.
Each element here is meant to mirror the other, a fusion made clearer by the film’s refusal to deal in specifics. Its parable-like faith that love alone can cut through an Orwellian distortion of reality feels overly broad. Though the thriller is tight and well-acted, its stark portrait of corporate authoritarianism is too simplified to capture the real emotional weight of living under creeping totalitarianism. The result is a hollow snapshot of contemporary America that feels both timely and absurd.
Insecurity, resentment, and the desire to belong – the same pressures that can destroy a family from within can just as easily weaken an entire country. Although at some point, in his first Hollywood production, the metaphors seem as carved with a blunt tool, Komasa continues to land an emotional blow after which it’s hard to stay on your feet.
Stories of Identity and Discovery
Documentaries were definitely the section’s strength, with three titles exploring the depths of American society. Weronika Milczewska’s Child of Dust (“Dziecko z pyłu”) attempts to ask the question of what happens when you realise your whole life was built believing the American dream, only to discover it’s a lie.
In Vietnam, thousands of children fathered by American soldiers are still living. Sang, one of them, sets out years later to search for the father he never met. As such, Child of Dust aims to be a quiet story about the consequences of wartime relationships, the need for identity, and perhaps an impossible attempt at complete reconciliation, although oftentimes hits overtly emotional tones. Still, it’s a clear, somehow grounded look at a life shaped by abandonment, a fractured identity, and a shaken sense of belonging. At the same time, a subtle yet striking critique of Western culture peaks from underneath.
Identity search and self-discovery under pressure are also present in the debut Rocket Girl by Agnes Swiercz, where spectacular footage filmed during rocket launches in the Mojave Desert overlaps with sixteen-year-old Eleni’s passion for technology and space, and her goal to win the competition for the best rocket model. Portraying adolescence with its stress, hopes, and frustrations, Swiercz wants to highlight not only the contrast between the ambitions but also the challenge of being a young woman in STEM. Although at times the neat editing with interesting visual cutaways prompts the desire to follow the heroin, it somehow feels it might not be enough to carry the whole film. Still, rockets here become a metaphor for escape and transformation, with each failed launch becoming a lesson.
Transitions and self-realisation lead us to Matylda Kawka’s debut, My Sunnyside, where Allie and Joe form a happy relationship in New York, but their wedding uncovers family tensions rooted in the fact that the spouses are a transgender couple. Challenging conventional ideas about family, gender roles, and “normalcy”, the film also doesn’t shy away from showing discrimination, misunderstandings, rejection – from family, institutions, or mainstream society. It reveals how difficult it can be to build a life when one’s identity doesn’t conform to normative expectations.
However, despite its powerful protagonists, the documentary’s structure tends to be relatively unambitious. The narrative remains uneven and doesn’t always engage deeply enough with the complexity of its subjects’ backgrounds, traumas, or long-term consequences of transition. Charming, well‑intentioned, but overly didactic at times. Nevertheless, there’s empathy and emotional sensitivity in it, offering space to understand Jo and Allie’s experience, while overall being a vital documentary in today’s climate.
Crossed Paths
Meanwhile, the film that many awaited was Pete Ohs’s trip to Warsaw. In Erupcja, Bethany (Charli XCX) arrives in the Polish capital with her partner, who plans to propose during their trip. As a volcanic eruption changes their departure plans, they stay in Warsaw, which for Bethany means one thing – the woman from her past, Nel (Lena Góra), is somewhere nearby. The bond between two women – charged, fragile, and complicated – becomes the emotional core of the film.
This year’s AFF was definitely Pete Ohs’s time, as he presented two films he directed (Erupcja and fantastically twisted The True Beauty of Being Bitten by a Tick) and one as producer and cinematographer (Albert Birney’s ethereal OBEX). But somehow the one with the biggest buzz didn’t land as it should have. Erupcja is an indie, character‑driven drama shot guerilla‑style on the streets of Warsaw, blending a nostalgic, slightly 90s style with modern tensions. Visually and tonally, the film relies on mood, atmosphere, and subtle emotional shifts rather than overt drama. Cinematography, minimalist production design, and naturalistic performances aim to evoke a sense of intimacy and spontaneous truth.
But the themes that are supposed to revolve around forbidden or destabilising love, identity and emotional vulnerability, as well as the tension between spontaneity and commitment, are overshadowed by the film’s weaknesses. From seemingly awkward and unnatural dialogues to the overall unevenness that challenges its ambition to be emotionally affecting. But – although there aren’t many spectacular shots of the city itself, it’s certain that Ohs loves Warsaw – every balcony, sidewalk, and metro entrance. His characters seem to exist in and for this place. Even if Erupcja doesn’t fully ignite, it remains a testament to Pete Ohs’s fascination with the fragile, unpredictable currents of human connection.
Bridging Borders
Overall, the Polonica section offered more than a showcase of films – it was a snapshot of Polish-American cinema in motion. Through stories of family, identity, and cultural tension, these films reflected both the possibilities and the limits of cross-cultural storytelling. While not every project landed perfectly, together they reveal a creative space where filmmakers navigate transatlantic collaborations, experiment with form, and confront the complexities of modern life.
Revisiting these works now, it becomes clear that Polish-American cinema is neither static nor formulaic, but alive, evolving, and increasingly willing to embrace risk, intimacy, and contradiction, where each launch, successful or not, contributes to a cinema that keeps evolving.
