Polish Legends is exactly the adaptation Slavic mythology needed

As I had mentioned way back in my very first post (available here) I adore anything and everything related to Slavic mythology and folklore and I'm really glad that it's getting the attention of both indie and mainstream media more and more nowdays, creating some gems in the fields of literature, movies and TV shows. So, I was very happy to hear about a Polish webseries based entirely around the premise of modernizing and reimagining Slavic myths and putting them in a scifi/fantasy wrapper. That webseries was Polish Legends (Legendy polskie), a sadly cut short gem that deserves all the attention it can possibly get.

Imagine a show that's very much in style and tone of Love, Death and Robots (2019-...) and mix that up with the semi-anthological format of the horror fiction podcast The Magnus Archives (2016-2021) and the end result will, more or less, be this webseries, formatted as a series of individually pacakged and released short films (all written by the apparently succsesful Polish author and screenwriter Błażej Dzikowski and Dominik Marzec and directed by famed artist Tomasz Bagiński), that all posses their own well organized three act structure that leaves room for more, whilst, at the same time giving us s perfectly functional and fully realized universe where the lines between science and magic are blurred and turned into unique, yet also familiar, stories that are going to appeal to audience members of all shapes, sizes and tastes.

The series premiered on YouTube and aired from 2015 to 2016, becoming a surprise hit with both audiences and critics alike, offering a brand new spin on well known beliefs and characters. Originally the series was planned as a sort-off a lead up into a big budget feature length film titled Twarodwsky 3. 14, which would have served as a direct sequel to the original shorts (and, given how the series ends on a massive and exciting cliffhanger, it was, honestly, the direction the story desperately needed). The schedualed release date was due for sometime in late 2019, however, sadly, that project never came to fruition for reasons that were never fully explained. Honestly, I thought cancelling promising sounding movies was only a Hollywood thing, but, turns out I was wrong, I guess. Despite that, however, in an attempt to push the series to the mainstream, the creators did, however, attempt to branch it out into different formats and mediums. First came song covers coupled with music videos set in the universe of the shorts, however, after that came something a lot more interesting, that being tie-in canon books, with the first one being a short story collection, funnily enough, also titled Polish legends, which featured the following stories (all of which were written by acclaimed horror, science fiction, fantasy and historical fiction authors): Look into my eyes (Spójrz mi w oczy), The Slumbering Knights (Śnięci rycerze), An Ordinary Giant (Zwyczajny gigant), Invisible (Niewidzialne), The Fern Flowers (Kwiaty paproci) and The Silence of the Lambs (Milczenie owcy).

Speaking of books, the show did end up getting a sequel of sorts, also in printed form, that being the award winning novel An Interview with Boruta (Wywiad z Borutą) by Łukasz Orbitowski and Michał Cetnarowski. My sources don't seem to provide any information on wheater or not was the novel a direct novelization of the afforementioned unproduced film's screenplay, however, either way it seemed to sit well with both critics and audiences and, personally, I'm not complaining one bit. Sadly, however, I found out about the series only mere days after my trip to Poland (by the way, I highly reccomend checking the sights in the country out, it was truly a magical experiance), so I was unable to aquire them and give them a review in their own right, however, that just means that I'll add some more titles to my ever-growing TBR list in case I ever visit the country again some day.

So, what made this show in particular stand out? Why was it an adaptation that managed to perfectly translate the spirit and style of the original stories into the modern digital age? All that and more will be answered in today's review, as we take a look at the first and, sadly, also last season of Polish Legends, starting off with...

(1) The Writing

After watching the first two episodes (Twardovsky and The Dragon), I pretty much expected the whole thing to end up as an anthology, as they're largely self-contained, however, things started to change with the third episode (Twardovsky 2.0), which as the title implies, acts as a direct sequel to Twardovsky, whilst also featuring a small nudge-nudge, wink-wink moment to the events of The Dragon, even though the events of the two had largely remained separate from each other. My overly analytical brain assumed that this could mean one of two things. It's either a) just a cheeky reference to show how the two stories take place in the same universe (similarly to what American Horror Story used to do until they absolutely shat all over it with Apocalpyse) or b) a sign that there's a grander story that's going to be crawling and spinning through the entirety of the series. As per usual, I turned out to be right, however, this wasn't an either or type of situation, but, instead, a Both? Both. Both is good one.

The fourth episode (Operation Basilisk) is arguably the most popular entry in the series and I can clearly see why, as it's the closest the show's writing ever came to succsesfully blend all the genres the series has set itself up to encompass (mainly fantasy and science fiction, with a slight hint of horror and dark comedy added in the mix) in a beautiful little canvas that, at the same time, stays tried and true to the ideas and concepts we've seen come out of the genre, but, at the same time, breathes in new life into them that they somehow feel... fresh. Now, that's not to say that the other episodes do it poorly (in fact, they do it just as well), but this one just absolutely perfected the formula in every single way. It's also, alongside The Dragon, arguably the most self-contained episode of the whole series, as, whilst it does feature elements that will play a part in the overall direction of the series as it goes on (with the most notable one being the secret (potentially goverment) paramilitary organization called Iron Mountain, whose main goal lies in the investigation, research and containment of paranormal phenomena, which seasoned readers of my blog will know I absolutely love to see portrayed in various forms of fiction), however, the overall story is, actually, very much a one off that can easily be found in any episodic anthology (a good example being the afformentioned Love, Death and Robots) and can greatly appeal even to those who had never seen any of the previous episodes.

The final episode (titled Yaga) is an interesting culmination that establishes the exact way in which these characters coordinate and what is the true, supernatural driving force behind everyone's actions and the events of the series as a whole. Another thing I loved about it is that it's also the most philosophical of all the episodes, as it delves into a theme which I find to be equally as fascinating in both the real world and fiction, that being the topic of the place and role of magic in today's society. Magic and the supernatural had been irreplaceable companions of human kind for pretty much the entire existence of the civilized world, starting with the dawn of shamanism and sorcery in the paleolithic and existing/accompanying us nowdays in the form of religions, magical rites, as well as, unsurprisingly, pop culture, so I've always been a tad bit fascinated by the idea of how these entities and characters would have to change and evolve to fit within the confines of modern society. Wheater we're talking about stories the existence of the supernatural is accepted as not only a geniune fact, but an inescapable part of daily life (Lazarus by Svitalana Taratorina, Southern Vampire Mysteries by Charalaine Harris and it's TV adaptation True Blood, Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter by Laurell Hamilton, Trese by Budjette Tan and Kajo Baldismo, The Magnus Archives, The Supernatural Protection Company, amongst a few others) or the ones where it's an unrealistically well-kept secret known only to a select few special individuals (The Dresden Files by Jim Butcher, Supernatural, Sanctuary, The X-Files, Buffy The Vampire Slayer, The Lights of Prague by Nicole Jarvis, Delta Green, Harry Potter by J. K. Rowling, and oh so many more), I always find the way the writers manage to appropriate the ancient folkloric beliefs to a modern day setting to be positively mesmerzing. I'm not going to pretend that it's always done well (with the likes of The Mortal Instruments by Cassandra Clare, pretty much anything by Rick Riordan and the 2017 Netflix original movie Bright probably being the worst I've managed to come across), but regardless of that, I always get giddy with excitment when I see an announcement for a new project of this type in any form of media, with my personal favorite example of this being Neil Gaiman's novel American Gods (which, coincidentally, just so happens to be my favorite novel of all time) which, strangely enough, jumbles a lot of the similar themes to Yaga, as most of the story is based around the same motif, which I (as an amateur author myself) had pondered and dabbled in quite a few times, that being the question regarding belief and it's importance within todays world. Do ancient folktales and their characters have a place in the modern world or should they just be left to be obsreved as relics of times long forgotten (kinda like how the popular consensus on Beowulf, prior to Tolkien's translation and analysis of it, was that it had no importance nor value as a story, but merely as just one small piece in the puzzle known as English literary history). Now, as a student of anthropology, I do tend to lean towards the stance that folklore has a place of innate importance in the modern world (and, realistically speaking, a 4 minute long episode of a five episode series won't exactly tell you something that a 599 page novel and 3 seasons of a TV show )which definetely should have gone on for far longer) with a similar philosophical core to it hadn't already done), however, I do like to see the way different writers (or, in this case, screenwriters) go about executing it and intergrating the philosophy into the plot (not to mention that I believe coming across and subsequently analyzing philsophical themes in fiction is the sexiest thing human beings as a species are capable of, which is a hill I will surely and gladly die on). Wow, who would've thought that an episode about a Matrix-style fighting witch would end up being the deepest and most thought provoking thing to come out of the whole show (Operation Basilisk is still my favorite though, but Yaga comes very close)?

Ok, I've spoken enough about the show's structure, worldbuilding and overanalyzed some of the episodes. Now let's get into the meat and potatoes of the whole ordeal.

To kinda keep in touch with what pretty much became the main subject of my earlier rant, I want to talk about how this show goes around modernizing elements of traditional folklore. Whilst some stories and characters remain virtually unchanged from their folkloric counterparts (for example, the basilisk) and some don't resemble them in the slightest (for example, Baba Yaga), however, I'd like to focus on the first two stories tackled in the series, those being the tale of sir Twardowsky and the Wawel dragon.

Like many legends, the story of sir Twardowsky has many variations. I'm choosing to follow the first one I've heard (keep in mind that the source I'm pulling from is Robert Curran's The Handbook of Angels and Fallen Angels, so, yeah, it's not like I used the most accurate source and my potential Polish readers will most likely correct me in the comments and, yes, they'll be perfectly justified in doing so). Look at me believing I actually have an audience larger than two people. Oh, the optimism of youth, I'll miss you dearly. Anyways, where was I? Oh, the story, right. The tale of sir Twardowsky is oftentimes seen as the progenitor of the Faustian myth. According to Curran, Twardowsky was a poor and unsuccsesful scholar of the occult and amateur magician, living in the former Polish capitol of Cracow (to which I'll be coming back to) and desiring real power beyond our understanding. One night he decides to give into his darkest desires and summons the Devil who grants him his wish in the exchange for his soul, with Twarodwsky remarking that he'll hand it over to him when he visits Rome (a city which he never intended on paying a visit to). The Devil agrees and Twardowsky becomes a celebrated sorcerer across Europe, even becoming close friends with the Polish king. One particular day, the king is feeling a bit down in the dumps and Twardowsky decides to cheer him up by buying him some wine, walking into the tavern Rzym (which translates to Rome in Polish) and immediately bumping into the Devil who demands he fullfills his end of the deal. Twardowsky refuses and so, the Devil (presumabley whilst shrugging prior to it) picks him and flies with him off into space. Twardowsky desperately begins praying, greatly annoying the Devil who then drops him onto the surface of the Moon, where he still looks down at his homeland with tears in his eyes.

In the very first scene of Polish Legends, we learn that Twardowsky (whose finally been given a first name, that being Jan, which is an extremely clever play on the word pan, meaning sir, mister or gentleman) is not only a an Elon Musk (*vomits*)/Jeff Bezos-esque billionnaire tech mogul, but has also seemingly vanished off the face of the Earth, triggering an extensive worldwide search. However, for all this time he had been hiding on the surface of the Moon in his own private Artemis-esque base, entertaining himself with stargazing, drinking, blasting off tunes on the radio, reading, admiring his collection of trophies and using his LRV to carve out imagery of giant penises on our satellite's surface. So, as you can tell, unlike in the original story, Twardowsky left Earth off of his own accord, primarily thanks to be chased across the globe by a female demon named Lucy, with the show also chaning the circumstances of the exact contract itself, as instead of Twardowsky almost loosing his soul because of his idiocy, the Prince of Darkness (who, in this version, is replaced by Boruta, a high ranking demon from Polish folklore known for dealmaking, dualistic nature and a strong desire for the return of an independent Silesian state) is actively trying to seek it out now, sending his most trusted soldier on the mission to capture him, which does give the story a more urgent and gripping feel. It's also heavily implied that Twardowsky and Lucy were indeed lovers and, honestly, I can't blame the guy as I've been known to have crushes on a few demon characters in fiction myself. Are we all really surprised? They're LITERALLY hot. Cricket noises I'll uhh... see myself out.

We also learn that these demons are not only capable of being skilled at magic and fucking up pretty much every piece of manmade electricity, but that they're vulnerable to holy water (unless the blessed water in question had been blessed by a less-than admirable citizen) and silver (so the classic dynamic duo of every self-respecting monster hunter's equipment I suppose), that they don't breathe (or atleast not in the same way we do) and that they're skilled craftsmen and pilot, having been able to construct spaceships which are far and beyond above the quality and practicality than any of the rusty junk we've been sending to the vas night skies for decades now. That's, honestly, a really nice piece of folklore modernization, as in many Slavic folktales demons are shown to be masters of arial travel (an example that immediately springs to my mind is the Czech legend of the Devil's Stones from Vyšehrad or even the short story Christmas Eve Night by Ukrainian writer Mykola Gogol from his infamous collection Evenings on a Farm near Dykanka).

But, it's not even the very existence of these technical marvels that truly matters, it's what's fueling them. Is it gas? Diesel? Steam power? No, no, no my friends, it's the one, the only, the most wonderful and potent thing to ever exist on this huge corner of the apocalypse (The Magnus Archives brainrot is strong with this one): sin. That's, without the shadow of a doubt, one of the coolest, most original and most invetive modern appropriations of folklore in media I've ever seen, if not THE coolest and THE most original one. The way Twardowsky tries to restart it (after finding out how it even works on complete accident) is pretty inventive too: choosing to use all of the sins at his disposal at the moment, which, in this case, can only be excessive cursing and masturbation. This does indeed come into play later on, in the phenomenal ending of the episode, however, I won't reveal too much, as I already have more than enough of that and I do wish that my readers do experiance this show and it's raw Polish beauty for themselves.

Whilst a lot of you might not have heard the name of sir Twardowsky, (even if you are familiar with the wide variety of Faustian stories across an assortment of cultures and mediums), it'd be pretty hard to not be even a tad bit aquainted with the legend of the Wawel Dragon. As was the case with my retelling of the legend of Twardowsky, I'll mainly be basing my retelling of the story on the first version I've heard, which, in this case, reffers to the one present in Gerrie McCall's book Dragons: Fearsome Monsters from Myth and Fiction, so forgive any potential inaccuracies.

A long, long time ago (I can still remember, how that music used to make me smile.... wow, what happened there, I blacked out for a second) in a small unnamed village that will eventually become the city of Cracow, a young farmboy and a part-time apprentice of the local shoemaker named Krak was living a tender, peaceful life in the shadows of the Wawel hill, waking up each morning to the babbling flow of the Visla river. However, underneath the hill sat (and still sits) a cavern wher another peculiar resident dwelled: a massive dragon with a pension for devouring people (mostly women and children) and animals alike. The knyaz (a term for Slavic monarchs who were not crowned, yet still governed with a degree of authority, oftentimes incorrectly translated into English as either duke or prince, stemming from the latin translation of the title, that being dux or princeps) is pissed, as not only is his land getting pillaged by a beast and ravaged by civil unrest, but all of his daughter Wanda's suitors had been consumed or burned alive by the raging beast. In a desperate act of self-preservation (because we know damn well that this cowardly fucker had no intentions to preserve his daugther's life if it weren't for the single fact that she's able to bear children) he announces that the one to kill the beast will not only recieve a noble title, but also the desirable piece of land where the dragon has made it's nest (now known as Wawel Hill, which is situated next to the Visla River), as well as his daughter's hand in marriage.

Being one of the few people with balls of steel and without a peabrain (and, according to some sources, having already been previously been involved with knyaz's daughter), Krak decides to test his luck and vows to kill the dragon, however, not by sword nor spear. Everyone laughs him off of course, however, he remains persistant. He picks out a few of his finest sheep, kills and roasts them, filling the (delicous sounding) corpses with spices and sulphur, leaving them outside the entrance to the cavern situated underneath the hill. The dragon gets attracted by the smell and devours his succulent meal with the speed and precision of myself when I have ravioli with chicken and tuna. However, thanks to Krak's culninary magic, he gets a tad bit thirsty, so he decides to refresh himself with the water from the Visla river. However, his thirst proves to be more than a little insatiable and he explodes in a million fleshy pieces, leaving Krak victorious, wealthy and married. Some sources even cite him as being Poland's first king (althought others attribute that to Popiel, another mythical figure stemming from the country's national folklore), althought that most likely isn't true, as the first recorded Polish ruler with the title rex was Bolesław the First the Bold (who ruled the country from 990 as a knyaz, crowning himself as king in Gniezno in 1024, dying only a year later and being suceeded by his son, Mieszko the Second) of the Piast dynasty (allegedly established by the mythologycal ruler Piast and his wife Rzepicha sometime before 935).

Polish Legends adapts the story in a rather interesting (and, again, very Love, Death and Robots-esque) way, as no longer is the main anatagnost of the story a giant flying lizard who can breathe fire, but, instead, it's a technologically aided serial kidnapper who flies around in a giant, intricately designed war machine with gigantic machine guns. Sounds awesome, isn't it? Honestly, if you ignore the fact that this guy could have just bought a van which would end up being infinitely less traceable and costly, that's a pretty damn phenomenal update, as it takes the (very overused, althought in my eyes, always entertaining) man is the real monster trope to such a cheesy extreme that it ends up as being one of the most memorable episodes in the entire series. Plus, don't get me wrong, but I've always been a fan of Earth-based scifi rather than the whole space opera subgenre, so I have no complaints here. I do have one complaint though, as throught the whole thing it's never clear wheater or not The Dragon (as the media and the police had since dubbed the kidnapper) is named after the mythical creature or if he's supposed to be this universe's version of it. Don't get me wrong, I'm a sucker for media where the antagonists are named after folkloric or historical figures, but, I'd have no issues if that wasn't the case here. The Dragon's death fits in very much with the folkloric source material, however, here, instead of Krak (here renamed to Janek) being a farmboy who feeds him sulphur laced lamb, he's actually just a creepy loser who spends his nights building robots for spying on girls... yeah, on second thought this might be a massive downgrade of the character. I can't believe it, how can they adapt the villain so well, but make the protagonist almost equally as offputting and yet STILL expect us to root for him? Despite the rather creepy implications and the geniune surprise at the fact that the love interest (here renamed to Ola) was actually interested in him all along (don't get me wrong, I love that a nerdy geek has gotten together with the love of his life and used brains instead of brawn to save her and all, but Christ, he's so creepy that he makes Howard from Big Bang Theory feel like a stud in comparasin). In the end though his solution is pretty inventive. You see, as the dragon in this version is far more interested in kidnapping and destruction of property than feasting on cattle and child murder, he decides to construct a female android that, when captured and brought onto the ship, will explode, taking the dragon along with her. It reminds of a method my seven yer old self came up with for keeping our house free of vampires. You see, we'd make a life-like mechanical woman who, when approached by the creature of the night, would respond to his touch by shooting a wooden stake from a hidden chamber situated within her torso. I'm not saying I predicted that the team behind Polish Legends was gonna pull something similar almost a full decade later, but, on the other hand, it's a fun possibility to think about. It's also just a very good modern adaptation of the big villain go boom part of the original story, which shows just how comitted these people were to bringing these stories to a contemporary audience and, if you know me, you know I love me some folkloric accuracy.

Wow, that turned out... longer than I expected it to.

(2) Effects

According to the data I've managed to conjure up, this series was a purely personal, indie prodcued and crowd-funded project, which is honestly surprising, as not only was it picked by major streaming services (like Mubi, for example), but the levels of detail and quality when it comes to the CGI and cinematography here is, honestly, fucking astounding and, dare I say, is above and beyond a lot of the stuff that comes out of Hollywood these days. Poles are no strangers to put in vast amounts of money into their movies and shows (with things like the dark fantasy drama Cracow Monsters and period piece The Crown of the Kings being absolutely goregous to look at and having some of the most intricately crafted effects and costumes out of any piece of TV I've seen), however, most of these are indeed produced by major TV networks or streaming services (in the case of Cracow Monsters it's Netflix and in the case of The Crown of the Kings it's TVP), instead of being a self-produced passion project. Now, as I've cared to mention many times, I'm not much of a fan of CG. Don't get me wrong, sometimes it can look absolutely stunning (I don't think I need to name any examples, everyone knows exactly what I'm talking about), however, I've always been more interested in things like practical effects, make-up, costumes, etc. (courtesy of being introduced to the original King Kong and the Sinbad movies at a very young age), however, as I'm sure many will agree that it's practically everywhere at this point, henceforth, it's a lot less engaging and just feels far more fake. I struggle to get into CGI for the same reasons that I struggle to get into animated content: if I know that something isn't physically there, I struggle to relate to it a lot more. Fortunately, I am happy to announce that the CG of Polish Legends is on par with big budget studio produced movies and shows and even looks better than some major Polish releases (for example, the 2023 family fantasy flick Kleks Academy). Ok, ok, I'm not going to pretend that everything looks flawless (for example, the effects used for the scenes depicting demons showing off their powers looks very umm... YouTube Aftereffects-esque so to speak), hpwever, for the most part, it looks beyond amazing for something that, again, wasn't a major studio release. Now, there's many effects one could single out when talking about the subject: from the demon spaceship to The Dragon's flying machine, however, instead of a device, I'd actually like to focus on a specific creature, that being the basilisk shown in the episode Operation Basilisk.

Typically in pop-culture, we tend to get one of two takes on the famed monster wose origins date back to as far as ancient Greek bestiaries and natural histories. It's either: a) reptilian (most often snake-like, like in the Harry Potter books and movies)

b) bird-like (courtesy of writers and authors confusing it with yet another folkloric beast known as the cocaktrice). However, the basilisk is Polish Legends is depicted as a creature that posses a unique combination of both reptilian and avian features, which, sure, might seem a bit hectic and weird at a first glance (and, just clarify, there already are other folkloric beings who combine the elements of the two, such as the cadrill and the crown-crested cobra), however, it surprisingly works. Not in a biological sense, of course (don't look at me, do I look like Spencer Black to you?), but purely from the standpoint of being an effective monster design. When designing a monster one needs to understand two things: humans aren't just afraid of the unknown, but also of the uncanny. Sure, animals of all kinds are quite indeed common in our world, however, once you combine the multitude of seemingly unrelated species into one, our brains malfunction, thus triggering a fear response (for example, look at the many monsters in the Greco-Roman myths and how they affected the people and gods in the world around them), as the known suddenly shifts into the unknown, which our brains just aren't physically capable of rationalazing as quickly as possible before we become food or just a corpse. Add in a dose of supernatural abbilities and bam, you got yourself an effective non-human antagonist. This take on the basilisk suceeds in exactly that, however, it's also notable for being a wonderful attempt to pay hommage to centuries of folklore that had surrounded the creature, which is something not a lot of writers (or, in this case, screenwriters) tend to do, most often choosing to pick a lane of their particular choosing, however, as someone who studied cultural anthropology, I'd retain that trying to incorporate elements from a multitude of sources is much appreciated, as it leaves room for a lot more interpretation and experimentation with a wider set of narrative tropes.

(3) The Performances What's a good show without a great cast? Well, given that this one doesn't exactly have a singular linear plotline and very few recurring characters (curtesy of not being allowed to flourish in the way that it was supposed to), it does indeed feature a vast enough number of stand-out performances, which is, again, quite the rarity when it comes to indie filmmaking in my experiance (no shame to actually good indie titles though, as there's a plethora of those to be found across the globe). Whilst it would be easy to call Tomasz Drabek's performance as Boruta as the finest example of talent in the series as he nails the role of the incredibly charming, charismatic, bumbling, yet also a C. A. Milverton/C. A. Magnussen-esque devious and cunning antagonist (and is also the character with the most screentime in the whole show), or even Katarzyna Pospiech's role as the folkloric witch Baba Yaga (whose less of a Baba and more of Yaga here), I'd actually like to give my props to a character with whom we've started this whole journey, that being Jan Twardowsky, played impecably by Robert Wieckiewicz. I'm not particularly familiar with Wieckewcz's opus, however, from the information I've managed to gather, he seems to be a fairly prolific actor, having starred in many movie and TV titles in a wide variety of genres since atleast the 90s ('ve actually jotted down quite a few of these, so I'm looking forward to checking them out). He does a wonderful job of portraying Twardowsky pretty much exactly as the folklore does (with a few tweaks made to modernize the story for the purposes of an adaptation); as a sad, broken and desperate, yet also coniving, intelligent and scheming victim of his own greed and egoism that manages to, in the end, use both his skills and his flaws to his advantage. This type of a character usually works for me in any story, sure, however, when we're talking about visual media (and even non-visual media if we're talking about fiction podcasts, audiodramas or audiobooks) a performance oftentimes makes a character for me and that is certainly the case in Polish Legends.

A character can be written as deeply as you want him to be, but if the performance of the actor of choice doesn't reflect that, it looses much of it's intended impact. A good (or should I say bad?) example of that would be the character of Golub in the (fucking horrendous) Serbian action-crime drama television series South Wind (Južni vetar). Sure, he's played by an (political views not withstanding) established and talented actor Nebojša Glogovac, however, he does it in such an incredibly flat and dimensionless way that any of the scenes with him loose any impact. He's supposed to be a very posh, calculating and sadistic crime lord, however, thanks to Glogovac's overacting he comes off as nothing else than a brutish, fancily dressed thug without any depth (and Petar Mihajlović and Miloš Avramović's dreadful screenplay doesn't help him in the slightest). On the other hand, Drabek's Twardowsky might be a perv, an alcoholic and a selfish egoistical jerk whose overly competent in his abbilities, however, he manages to suptley convince his sadness and longing for a long lost home and a life he never had. Every stare, every breath reveals us so much about his internal monologues that don't even need to be spoken to be understood from as much as looking at a single frame and I'm not sure wheater I should be complimenting the skills of the show's writers or his talent as an actor. I may have loved the performances of the cast in Cracow Monsters, sure, however, this take on Twardowsky may be on par or even better than any of those and is one of, if not the main reason to check out the show (other than the viewer's interest in Slavic mythology and folklore of course).

So, in the end, would I reccomend giving Polish Legends a try? Absolutely! Some may enjoy this one for the mere fact that it consists of modernizations of classical tales many have heard time and time again through books and movies, others may find the retellings themselves to be interesting stories in their own right and view/understand them separately from the source material that inspired them, whilst some may just enjoy them for the acting, effects and the eye candy of the visuals in general. Then again, some may find these stories to be very campy and cliche (and I'll be the first to acknowledge that some of the episodes do have some issues in terms of writing and pacing and that the show is severely burdained by the fact that it never got to finish it's storyline and it's extremely low budget), however, isn't that the case with pretty much anything? Overall, if you're a fan of the Polish film and TV industry, have even a passing interest in Slavic mythology and folklore or just want to see some cool indie-made fantasy and scifi stories and aren't too hurt by massive cliffhangers, then give it a shot.

Cited Sources:

Curran, R.: Priručnik o anđelima i demonima, Znanje, Zagreb, 2013

Gogolj, N. V.: Ukrajinske pripovijetke, August Cesarec, Zagreb, 1990

McCall, G. (ed.): Zmajevi: Zastrašujuća čudovišta iz mitova i priča, Egmont, Zagreb, 2008

Rosner, A.: Polish Kings and Royal Families, Irsa, Cracow, 2017

Wargas, V., Zych, P.: Bestiariusz słowiański, Wydawnictwo Bosz, Olszanica, 2022

Zvolský, F. J.: Mysterious Prague Nights, or Ghosts and Legends of Old Prague, Ós Temporum, Prague, 2018

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