REVIEW: FISH TANK

Grand Readership,

I must admit I was quite excited to see FISH TANK... it had been some time since I’d given patronage to the IFC theater (despite my accolades for it in my NYC VENUE review (here) I don’t get there nearly as often as I’d like) and it’d also been some time since I reviewed a picture outside the Hollywood studio system.  FISH TANK (by director ANDREA ARNOLD - who's first picture, RED ROAD, I'm told is outstanding) not only does not disappoint, but is surprising and delightful: a skillfully told story, a true drama and an even (at times) disturbing portraiture of a girl coming into her own.

MIA is 15.  She lives with her mom (who, if she has a job – we’re not told about it) and younger sister, TYLER.  There’s no father… there’s no money – in fact there’s little of anything but spite.  It’s a decidedly poor neighborhood, Mia lives in a tenement building – her mother, when she isn’t drunk, is at best verbally abusive and at worst irresponsibly neglectful.  The conditions of Mia’s life are both shocking and upsetting, but they never overwhelm her, nor seem to overtly inform her behavior.  Instead, Mia simply wants grow up and like any teenage girl who feels stuck... she feels the world is against her in this.  It’s summer time and her days are filled with practicing dance, roaming around, fighting with peers and getting into mischief with boys... and while on the surface this may appear carefree - we quickly learn it's anything but.

There’s a refreshing simplicity about the story Arnold tells coupled with a frankness... Mia's life isn't pretty and Arnold isn't shy about sharing this.  First and foremost, however, FISH TANK Mia’s story – and it is never anyone else’s.  When Mia is introduced to her mother’s latest boyfriend, CONNOR, (played exceptionally by MICHAEL FASSBENDER - who some may recognize from his also exceptional appearance in INGLOURIOUS BASTERDS) there’s an obvious tension between the two.  And while the relationship grows in tension and immediacy throughout the film the camera never lingers on the boyfriend.  We’re never bothered with his emotional state beyond the interactions he has with Mia.  In fact, we are always with Mia – when we see her little sister smoke cigarettes and drink beers with a friend, it’s because Mia is there to show us.  What little we learn of Mia’s mother’s friends, we learn as Mia spies on them.  The arguments Mia has with her friends remain unexplained and why shouldn’t they?  What do 15 year-old girls really argue about anyway?

FISH TANK succeeds as much for what is in the picture as what is left out of it.  We don’t need to know why Mia bickers with her peers to understand to her angst.  We don’t need to know what her mom does all day to understand the type of role model she is for her girls.  Essentially – we don’t need to know anything about anyone, except for Mia.  I cannot stress enough how nice it is not to be hammered with storylines.  Instead of being dealt several poorly handled storylines (as it seems is the ever-increasing norm in today’s pictures) FISH TANK actually delivers on a single one.  Considering how singular our focus is on MIA - its almost startling how much we learn and feel about the supporting players - which we must immediately attribute to Arnold's sophisticated choice in dialogue and scene.

Speaking of sophistication, the film itself is stunning to look at.  I saw a 35mm print and noticed immediately that it was a 1.33:1 frame – quite unusual in a day in age where 16:9 is standard even for television and 2:35:1 is the now-traditional cinema aspect.  The cinematographer, Robbie Ryan, has delivered each shot as if it were plucked from a tree of brilliant Polaroids.   We’re treated to flares of morning sun, the contrast of high noon summers, the magic of glowing, late-summer evenings and that warm summer night we all can’t describe but know when we see it.  The smaller, square frame always keeps us proximate to Mia while the film grain and dirt specs (evident throughout the picture) recollect the imperfections of life. 

I suppose that’s the best way to sum up FISH TANK – its near masterpiece as a picture is in how perfectly it brings the imperfect to life.  There’s nothing unnatural about Mia’s curiosity and sexual turmoil – but that it’s happening in concert with Connor giving her attention is unsettling.  There’s an inevitable sadness about Mia’s lot in life, but there’s also a beauty in how she moves throughout it.  Amplified in parts by the photography, in parts by the performances but always by its direction – FISH TANK is bubbling with tears and laughter and… well, life.  Make a point to see in theaters if you can – otherwise, be sure to check on home-release.