Fish Tank is an intensely raw and intimate exploration of adolescent identity. Set in a drab Essex housing estate, we are plunged into the life of Mia, a 15-year-old girl (played with a really compelling sense of authenticity by Katie Jarvis). Through her eyes, we witness a world constrained by poverty, emotional neglect, and fragile relationships, but also one of immense untapped potential and yearning for freedom.
The film opens with Mia, dancing in an abandoned building, a moment that sets the bleak tone for the film for me – an intricate portrayal of Mia’s inner world . She finds solace in movement, yet her external environment offers little in support or promise. Her mother, is a chaotic presence, and her younger sister, who seems to embody a more carefree innocence, mirror Mia’s emotional and psychological disarray. It’s not hard to gather a sense of a home environment where love feels stifled, and any desire to break free seems increasingly unattainable. Michael Fassbender plays Connor, the new boyfriend of Mia’s mother. Somewhat of a charming and seemingly protective man, but there is always an unmistakable undercurrent of manipulation and predation in Fassbinder’s performance. Soon, the characters push those very taboo boundaries of familial trust, longing, and betrayal as their relationship develops far beyond what it should.
Andrea Arnold’s direction almost feels cruel at times; unflinching in its depiction of the struggle to navigate the turbulent waters of adolescence. The camera work is a masterclass in remaining intimate yet unobtrusive, lingering often close to Mia’s face, capturing subtle shifts in her expression, this and Jarvis’ performance work congruously to portray the character’s inner conflict to the audience through the most seemingly simple of means. To me, the film’s greatest strength lies in its performances, particularly with Jarvis capturing both the tenderness and aggression that coexist and contradict within her character.
Fish Tank is not a film that offers easy answers or resolutions. Arnold’s direction sometimes feels overly exploitative, as if insisting a sense of misery and bleakness towards the audience – this is not necessarily a bad thing (at least, it isn’t to me). The film certainly leaves room for ambiguity, allowing the audience to interpret the story through their own lens. What we are presented with is an excellent portrait of a young girl in the midst of finding herself – a theme I’m sure is immensely relatable to a wide margin of viewers. There are not any grand gestures or acts of extreme escapism, but through the small, often painful moments of self-realization and growth, we see Mia mould herself. To wrap up my thoughts, Fish Tank is, to me, a poignant exploration of youth. Arnold has crafted a film that refuses to offer easy comfort, but instead serves a dish that’s more complex in its flavours – a visceral, authentic look at the messiness of growing up.
Thank you for reading.
MORTFILMS 