Fame, art, and identity—Joanna Kulig’s story continues to defy expectations. It’s been years since the global buzz around Cold War and its trio of Academy Award nominations, yet the film’s Polish star Joanna Kulig is far from fading from view. Now, she’s preparing to reunite with director Paweł Pawlikowski for another ambitious project, proving that her artistic journey is still evolving in fascinating ways.
“I’m singing in his next film,” Kulig reveals with enthusiasm. Their upcoming collaboration, titled 1949/Vaterland, stars acclaimed German actress Sandra Hüller and centers on the intertwined lives of Thomas and Erika Mann in post–World War II Germany. For Kulig, this marks her fourth creative reunion with Pawlikowski, whom she describes as a filmmaker who thrives on originality. “I’m proud this film is being made,” she says. “In these tough times—after the pandemic and industry strikes—cinema is still fighting back.”
Her Cold War success came during a deeply personal period, as she navigated motherhood while rising to international fame. The intense awards-season whirlwind opened countless doors, but Kulig consciously chose not to chase Hollywood fame exclusively. At the Torino Film Festival, she presents Isola, a psychological thriller by director Nora Jaenicke, signaling her continued commitment to European cinema. “After Cold War, things got a little crazy,” she admits. “People thought I’d move to the U.S., but I’ve always respected Pawlikowski’s process. He makes films his own way. You must find what brings you peace and joy instead of constantly chasing others’ expectations.”
That sense of balance is something she treasures now. “Cold War exposed me to multiculturalism and opportunities I never imagined. But I also wanted to keep a real family life—and I think I’ve finally found that equilibrium,” she reflects. After roles in She Came to Me and Apple TV+’s Masters of the Air, Kulig has returned her focus to productions closer to home. “Working on Isola allowed me to stay in Warsaw, which means a lot. I’ve always dreamed of having a real base—a place to call my own. It’s funny when people in Poland ask, ‘So you’re back?’ I never really left,” she laughs.
Kulig also touches on a deeper cultural sentiment among her peers. “Polish people are so eager to learn languages and step into new work environments,” she notes. “But there’s still this little voice that says we’re not good enough—a hangover from our communist past. My generation grew up thinking the West did everything better. It’s time we start valuing ourselves.” That thought alone could ignite an ongoing debate: Has Polish cinema finally shed its inferiority complex on the global stage?
Before rejoining Pawlikowski, Kulig once again showcases her versatility in Jaenicke’s Isola, where she plays the young wife of a dying man, also named Joanna. Living on a secluded island, her character welcomes Ada (played by Fanny Ardant), a new caretaker whose initial warmth spirals into dangerous obsession. Jaenicke recalls how music became a pivotal connection between the two women: “It’s a Sicilian song,” she says, “because originally, the film was set in Stromboli. There’s a quiet moment where they connect without words—just through the song. It awakens something wild in Joanna, a hint of her desire to break free from her role as a wife.”
When Jaenicke met Kulig, the character evolved before her eyes. “Joanna has this incredible look—so soft, almost angelic. But suddenly, the light shifts and you sense something darker beneath. She can show both an angel and a devil at once,” the director observes. Isola, produced by Manish Mundra, Ariens Damsi, Jaenicke, and Eliofilm, is described as part psychological thriller, part emotional allegory.
Adding another layer of intrigue, Jaenicke cast Fanny Ardant in a distinctly uncharacteristic role. “We’ve never seen her like this before,” she notes. “Fanny said she liked playing Ada precisely because ‘she isn’t likeable.’” And that’s the key twist. As actor Marco Rossetti, who portrays Joanna’s love interest, points out, Isola paints every character in shades of moral gray. “They all cause harm—emotionally, physically—to one another,” he says. “Yet somehow, that darkness binds them together.” The result, Jaenicke adds, feels “almost like an archetypal story.”
Ada enters Joanna’s life when Joanna is already yearning for independence, perpetually drawn to controlling partners. “It’s feminist in a way,” Jaenicke muses, “but it’s also ironic because her new oppressor is another woman.” And here’s the part that invites debate: is Isola a story of liberation—or a warning about how power and love can blur beyond recognition?
What do you think? Is Joanna Kulig redefining what it means to be a European actor in a globalized industry—or is she simply reclaiming the art of choosing passion over fame? Share your thoughts below.
