Ulani, Ulani, Chlopcy Malowani: A Time Capsule of Polish Kitschy Charm

Is it worth the time?

Honestly, it depends on how much you like old-school stagey humor. If you go in looking for a gritty drama, you will be bored to tears. But if you have a soft spot for 1930s musical fluff and fancy cavalry mustaches, you might actually enjoy the vibe here.

It’s definitely not for the modern viewer who needs a fast pace. It’s for the folks who like to dig through old cinematic archives just to see how people carried themselves when the world felt a bit smaller and a whole lot louder in its fashion choices.

The Uniforms and the Antics

There is a lot of posturing in this film. Everyone seems to be competing to see who can look the most dashing while leaning against a wall or holding a champagne glass. Zula Pogorzelska brings a sort of spark that the movie really needs, because without her, it would just be a long line of men in fancy boots.

Speaking of those boots, they sure do spend a lot of time clacking around on the floor. The singing, particularly from the Chór Dana, is the glue holding this whole thing together. Sometimes the plot just stops entirely so they can have a musical number, and honestly, the movie is better for it.

Odd Moments and Random Thoughts

• The dialogue feels like it was written for a stage play, not a camera. Everyone projects their lines to the back row.
• The camera work is pretty static. It feels like watching a performance from the third row of a theater.
• I spent way too long staring at the background extras. Some of them look like they are just waiting for the lunch bell to ring.
• It has that weird, innocent energy you see in movies like The Woman in the Suitcase. They are worlds apart, but the "let's put on a show" spirit is exactly the same.

There’s a weird disconnect here. You know what happens to Poland a few years after this was released. Watching these guys laugh and sing about being "painted boys" in their uniforms feels… heavy. Even when they are doing something silly, there is a weird shadow over the whole thing.

I found myself wondering if they knew. Probably not. It makes the lighthearted moments feel almost fragile. It’s a bit eerie if you think about it for more than five seconds.

If you have seen Sedmoy sputnik, you know how vastly different historical perspectives can be on film. This is the exact opposite of that grit. It’s all polish, literally and figuratively.

Ultimately, it’s a bit of a relic. It’s not great, but it’s definitely not nothing. It’s just a bunch of people trying to make a crowd smile right before the lights went out for a very, very long time. 🎺