Silent Land

Agnieszka Woszczynska’s debut film follows a Polish couple’s trip to a rural part of coastal Italy that quickly becomes the holiday from hell.

Why do films about disastrous, devastating, or horrifying events while abroad make you want to go on holiday so badly? During a grey Scottish winter – or a grey Scottish summer – I often look to The Talented Mr. Ripley to transport me to Italy, letting me soak up the sun on the Amalfi coast and in Rome, listen to jazz records favoured by Jude Law’s Dickie Greenleaf, and generally let loose and relax. OK, there is the small matter of Tom Ripley’s horrific spree of murder and deceit, but that comes second to the gorgeous 1950s Italian scenery. Maybe your own personal choice is Danny Boyle’s The Beach or Luca Guadagnino’s Call Me By Your Name – it’s easy to see past the mental breakdown of Leonardo DiCaprio as he is outcast from the rest of his secret beach community or the heartbreak suffered by Timothée Chalamet at the hands of a certain cannibal when these dreadful circumstances are set against the backdrop of exotic summer sunshine. There was a point during the COVID-19 travel restrictions that I would have even taken my chances with a trip to visit the Swedish pagan cult from Ari Aster’s Midsommar.

Silent Land – from director Agnieszka Woszczynska – is the newest film to be added to the strangely alluring holiday from hell subgenre. It follows the blondest duo in film history, Polish couple Adam (Dobromir Dymecki) and Anna (Agnieszka Zulewska), who arrive at their holiday rental home in a rural part of coastal Italy to find that the swimming pool has been drained. It’s a rocky start to their break, but the villa’s owner promises to have the pool fixed and back up and running in a few days. 

“Why didn’t one of us go brunette?”

Adam and Anna persevere and attempt to make the most out of their pool-less situation, going jogging in the nearby wilderness and sunbathing on concrete next to the beach. Everything is going… OK, but a grating sense of frustration is simmering within the couple, and Woszczynska builds a sense of unease as each scene lingers for just enough time to make you feel uncomfortable. Things are looking up as a young man arrives to fix the swimming pool, but the positive outlook quickly subsides when Adam and Anna are subjected to the permanent, incessant drilling that is apparently needed before the empty pool can be filled.

While the couple silently eat lunch on their terrace the next day, the pool worker slips and falls several metres into the almost-empty pool, landing on his neck. He isn’t moving. It’s an offshoot from another great holiday from hell classic – Jacques Deray’s La Piscine – and shows that even an empty swimming pool can lead to a character’s demise in this niche subgenre. Adam and Anna call the villa’s owner, who calls an ambulance and the police. Obviously, there is nothing that the couple could do, but the police need them to come to the station to give a statement, a mere formality.

As Silent Land continues, Adam and Anna begin to feel an overwhelming – and sometimes suffocating – sense of guilt surrounding the circumstances. Paranoia takes over. Could they have helped the pool boy? Did he die as soon as he hit the bottom of the pool? Can the police prosecute them? Why do they seem a little off? It transpires that the pool worker is an illegal immigrant – is that why the police are acting particularly casual and indifferent, or are they keeping their cards close to their chest in a ploy to let the couple slip up about… something? 

In her debut film, Woszczynska’s exerts control as she frames the couple’s psychological unravelling, carefully holding shots for an uncomfortable amount of time to let Adam and Anna’s internal struggle bubble to the surface. The central performances from Dymecki and Zulewska expertly capture the couple’s irritation followed by exasperation as their holiday continues to unravel; their stone-faced expressions and shifting body language perfectly emanating the inner turmoil that we know they are suffering.

Silent Land’s searing Italian heat keeps the pressure on Adam and Anna as it moves towards a conclusion, ending with a moving scene that signifies how the events of their holiday are likely to stay with them forever. While the film is without the masterful tension of Anthony Minghella’s The Talented Mr. Ripley, it shares the quality of taking a picturesque setting and using it as a focal point of someone’s downfall. 

But that’s not important. As the tension builds under the permanent blue of the Italian summer sky, it’s easy to forget about the couple’s problems entirely. Just close your eyes and imagine that European sun hitting you as you lie next to a pool (empty or otherwise).

The first thing I did after finishing the film? Skyscanner.