Fisheye, directed by Michał Szcześniak, is an original psychological thriller with an echo of Oldboy and other productions dealing with forced closure. It is also a film that was really needed by Polish cinema for perverse reasons.
It will certainly be one of the most intriguing and most important cinema premieres this year in Poland. On the other hand, over the last 12 months, it is really difficult to identify any other production that will divide Polish viewers so much. Fisheye, the full-length debut of Michał Szcześniak, is a story that the X Muse in our country, solidly marked by the coronavirus pandemic, simply needed in the world. The original fictional idea, appearing like a peculiar distillate of Oldboy, Cube and Peace, disarms with its uncompromising nature and works magnetically through a series of delicious production procedures, trying to turn the story into a pure psychological thriller. The fuel here is the ubiquitous atmosphere of anxiety and the dark secret of the main character, embellished with a unique claustrophobic experience - the story takes place in a few terribly cramped rooms. To all this, also add the acting performances in the foreground and background, the musical setting perfectly matching the script or the unusual work of the camera. Sounds like a recipe for a flesh and blood cinematic work? None of these things. Szcześniak's film, even if it eludes an unambiguous attempt at interpretation, from the point of view of the psychological layer may turn out to be just an empty shell. It all depends on how we evaluate the final sequences, shedding new light on everything we saw on the screen before. Some of you will complain, others will leave the cinema delighted. After the screening, I felt only moderate satisfaction. It's a pity - my appetite was much greater.
An attempt to describe the plot of Fisheye is made more difficult because it is determined by the convention of a psychological thriller; it is enough to reveal one word too many to take Szcześniak's stories from its driving force. Anna (Julia Kijowska) has just found the Holy Grail of the world of science, making a revolutionary discovery in the field of lung cancer treatment. However, before sharing this news with the environment, the protagonist will wake up in a cramped, claustrophobic room in unclear circumstances, from behind which a mysterious voice will call her "Alice". The kidnapper (Piotr Adamczyk) observes the woman with the help of cameras placed on the walls, offering in return a set reminiscent of a spooky variation on the lockdown theme: a bed, a table, a chair, a toilet bowl, a washbasin. The only bridge to the outside world is the viewfinder through which the main character can observe her loved ones - those, at least initially, are fighting a fierce battle to find the missing girl. The thing is, the happy ending of this story doesn't want to come. Over time, Anna's family reveals more and more information about her surprisingly tragic and unsaid past. In addition, the protagonist, gradually losing her senses, establishes a complicated relationship with the kidnapper. Is her scientific achievements the key to unraveling the mystery? Or maybe it lies in the memories of painful experiences, emphasized by the delirium of the mind? Oh, a fisheye. A distorted image that makes nothing in this production what it seems.
While Fisheye deserves a lot of praise, it would be completely unfair to overlook its shortcomings. In fact, one decisive one: the way to unravel the mystery of Anna's kidnapping. I have the impression that Szcześniak, inexperienced in working on full-length films, and the co-writers who helped him, had no convincing idea how to solve the most important story puzzle. The ending of the story opens the door to various interpretations, but this fact cannot be a value in itself. I am almost convinced that having full knowledge of the history, some viewers will only shrug their shoulders. Well, so what? - one would like to say, when during the 90 minutes of the session it was simulated that Anna hides demons more ghastly than life itself. Does the truth about the kidnapping satisfactorily explain why it happened at all? I have huge doubts, even more so by the fact that the exit from the fictional maze does not exhaust the subject of the characters' motivation. Seen from this perspective, Fisheye resembles a speeding train that, for some reason, decided to stop a few stops in front of its destination, and to take shortcuts there, skipping important stations in the meantime.
This does not change the fact that on the map of cinema premieres in Poland marked by the epidemic, Michał Szcześniak's film should be perceived as one of its most important points. We really needed production mastery, performances and a fresh fictional idea. What's more, Fisheye today may take on one more, unexpected dimension. Somewhere at its deepest level, this story is about a drastic form of isolation, showing man in extreme situations. The latter are closer to us today than before - both in terms of social life and the specter of another lockdown hovering over our country. Paradoxically, the production of Szcześniak can be an excellent antidote to these dilemmas. We can argue about the way out of the closure, about its foundations, but the light in the tunnel is right there. Sometimes it will be an inconspicuous viewfinder. The discovery of the truth about ourselves elsewhere.
