Original title (PL): Pod wulkanem (Under the Volcano)
Immediately thrust into the familiar slow-build, tangible tenseness of an awkward family vacation (set in the sun-drenched Canary Islands), discomfort and longing for a return to routine only intensify when it becomes clear that there is no longer a home to go back to.
While you’d think the idea of a permanent vacation might sound ideal, this film does a wonderful job of encapsulating that ache you feel when you are more than ready to shower and sleep in your own bed again. To be washed in more familiar smells and nestle back into routine. To let your sunburn cool and regale your friends with stories and mishaps that are funny now that they are over.
Unfortunately for this family, their home is in the Ukraine, and it has come under attack.
While the adults struggle to hold their own fears aside for the wellbeing of the children, they are lacking a definable “light at the end of the tunnel” to make their promises ring sincere. There are no solutions to aim for, and the ground has already shifted under their feet beyond repair. Under duress, like the volcano, the family threatens to burst apart at the seams, exhausted, scared, and pressured into making a decision.
You feel for them because you could be them. No stability in life is promised, only held onto. It happens naturally, much like the feel of these characters drifting through their days, unsure where to stand. Mortality is always a presence lurking in the peripheral view. It’s the stranger in the corner of the elevator with whom you try to avoid eye contact with, even though they are asking you to push the buttons and ascend to the next floor of the hotel.