In a working-class neighbourhood in the Polish town of Żyrardów, we find a family grappling with the trials of everyday life. Following on from the postwar drama The Reconciliation [+lire aussi :
bande-annonce
interview : Maciej Sobieszczański
fiche film], Maciej Sobieszczański is trying her hand at contemporary realism by way of Brother, which was presented in competition at the Trieste Film Festival following successes in Warsaw – where it won over the Ecumenic Jury – and in Cottbus. Scripted by Grzegorz Puda, the film homes in on Dawid, a talented fourteen-year-old judoka played by newcomer, Filip Wiłkomirski (a real-life Polish junior judo champion), and his nine-year-old brother, Michał (Tytus Szymczuk), a pint-sized hooligan who steals telephones and wallets without an ounce of remorse. Their mother Agnieszka (Agnieszka Grochowska) - a nurse who winds up alone after the arrest of her husband (Jacek Braciak) - fights to keep the family together, entrusting the elder brother with the role of "father substitute".

The film is a portrait of these brothers, of their loving yet tempestuous relationship, but it also aspires to be a study of a Polish family hiding deep-set issues behind seeming stability. Dawid grows up too quickly, dividing his time between judo – a passion which jettisons him towards a better future – and caring for his little brother who’s a constant source of worry. His authoritative and engaged trainer, Konrad (Julian Świewiczewski), erupts into their family life, providing Dawis with an opportunity for redemption whilst also compromising the family’s delicate balance. When an opportunity for emancipation opens up to our protagonist, Michał slips into a destructive spiral which pushes everyone to their limits. Sobieszczański avails himself of multiple views, playing with close-ups and shifting the centre of gravity between Dawid, his exhausted mother and the younger, overlooked son.

The wonderful performances delivered by the film’s young actors capture the essence of this precariousness adolescence, drawing on European coming-of-age movies produced in previous years. Jolanta Dylewska’s photography thrusts the viewer into the harsh realism of the Polish inner suburbs, with its cramped interiors and cold lighting, and external shots composed of monotone concrete blocks. Despite confused editing, the scenes on the judo mats are dynamic and amplify any emotional tension in the story. Ultimately, Wiłkomirski’s Dawid is torn between filial duty and pursuing his own personal dreams, and his physical presence is evocative both of the discipline of fair play in judo and emotional fragility. Szymczuk, like Michał, is a tornado of infantile rebellion who’s capable of moving between illegal activities and a state of vulnerability within seconds. Grochowska delivers a masterful performance as a woman worn out by the weight of responsibility. She knows how to shout, punish and defend her sons, displaying a visceral love which is only undermined by mistakes and exhaustion.

Unfortunately, the film’s narrative ambition loses itself in uncertainty and stereotypes. Penned by the director together with Grzegorz Puda, the screenplay is fragmented: the relationship between the mother and coach is under-developed to the point it disappears, and Agnieszka’s character is barely sketched out. What could have been a credible portrait of a domestic crisis dissolves into a stereotypical exploration of dysfunctional families, absent fathers and thwarted dreams. Judo acts as an effective metaphor – positing discipline to combat chaos and talent as a way out – but it’s not enough to carry the film. Sobieszczański observes little rituals with empathy (Dawid’s conversations with his jailbird father through the window are a real highlight, as is the scene where he’s defending his brother from bullies), but the film’s narrative potential is never fully realised. Even religion - a powerful theme in the history of Polish film (see Piotr Domalewski’s recent movie The Altar Boys [+lire aussi :
critique
interview : Piotr Domalewski
fiche film]), portrayed here through preparations for Michal’s first communion – is reduced to mundane references (the seventh commandment) and symbolic visual representations, such as Andrea Mantegna’s reproduction of the Lamentation Over the Dead Christ (featuring on two separate occasions) and the appearance of the church of Nostra Signora della Consolazione as the bells ring out in the background.

Brother is a Polish-Czech production courtesy of Apple Film Production and Moloko Film.