Perla Review (2025 International Film Festival Rotterdam)

Slovak-Austrian director Alexandra Makarova’s sophomore film sets its characters between the booming vibrancy of Vienna and the gloom of Slovakia (depicted as Czechoslovakia, given the 1980s setting). A similar backdrop to her 2018’s ‘Crush My Heart‘. Perla, portrayed by the enchanting Rebeka Poláková, leads a stimulating yet precarious life, balancing intellectual rigour with the demands of pursuing her art and raising her daughter. Perla’s uncompromising and fierce nature makes her a captivating protagonist—a slick go-getter whose unconventional and sometimes rough actions are impossible not to excuse.

The film initially focuses almost entirely on constructing its visual identity, indulging in distracting photography and highly stylized imagery reminiscent of many, for instance, Nicolas Roeg’s aesthetic. A style I, for one, can’t get enough of. But as much of a fun game as it is to match an umbrella with a car in the background while the protagonist is calling, the image feigns indifference to any depth of a story. Perhaps an experienced eye might discern an obscure secret simmering beneath the surface, ready to burst forth. About twenty minutes in, the film conjures up a stylized palette of tricolour sensations—eloquent but so dominant that they overshadow any meaningful story development or reflective depth, leaving viewers unprepared for what follows.

Thankfully, the narrative finds its footing when Perla receives a fateful call from her past. The film pivots toward a deeply emotional and politically charged journey back to Czechoslovakia, where Perla reconnects with her ‘buried’ ex-partner, the father of her daughter. The scenes that follow whisper of the struggles of those in resistance against an oppressive regime, and reveal a conflict with a very resonant and authentic split of heart. The film wisely avoids spoon-feeding historical context; instead, it leaves space for extensive interrelation with similar realities and the concomitant emotional implications, leading even to (the much-coveted) empathy.

Perla finds herself torn between the relative comfort of her current life and the deprivation of her past, between her beloved husband and the eternally cherished father of her child. This intricate emotional triad demands careful handling, and the cast delivers. Poláková, Simon Schwarz, and Noel Czuczor share the weight of this complexity with smooth, powerful performances. Schwarz’s injections of humour add a magnetic charm to the viewing experience.

Ultimately, the film maintains an overarching tension, with its robust imagery hitting like a clenched fist. A pivotal visit to Perla’s motherland village encapsulates both hardship and triumph, revealing Perla as not just a survivor but an inventive force capable of rewriting her life on her own terms. She emerges as a caring and (honestly) cool mother—a testament to resilience and adaptability. A beautifully written character that can surely be a role model offered generously by stimulating, well-rounded cinema.
Despite its stiff and low-key start, ‘Perla’ ventures into complex political and emotional terrain, wrapping its audience in a warm, compelling narrative. It stands as both a testament to personal reinvention and a reflection on the enduring power of love and defiance.