Many directors have explored the Second World War in all possible genres, from action films such as Captain America to biographies with Imitation Game and even science-fiction and horror with Overlord. But with The Fishing Place, Rob Tregenza takes an experimental, atmospheric approach to war in a very specific region. Far away in a vast cloudy landscape, a few inhabitants of a Norwegian village cross paths. The political climate is ambiguous: although neutral, the Nazi German army occupies the country and takes over most of the active and religious life. In the midst of all this is Anna (Ellen Dorrit Petersen), recently released from detention by the German army to serve it, and in particular Officer Aksel Hansen (Frode Winther). Her mission is to get close to the village priest (Andreas Lust) and find out if he is connected to the resistance.
Although the synopsis suggests that The Fishing Place is intended to be a spy thriller with a sweeping outcome, in the end it’s quite the opposite. Tregenza approaches his sequences with great slowness but also with a remarkable mastery of composition. His abilities as a director are demonstrated from the very first minutes of the film, where we are captivated by the composition and color choices. The editing also shows its importance, with choices that are not only visually effective but also narratively significant, such as a beautiful crossfade at the beginning of the film between Anna and Officer Hansen, thus signifying the bond between the two protagonists very early on.
“Her mission is to get close to the village priest and find out if he is connected to the resistance…”
As mentioned earlier, The Fishing Place stands out above all for its atmosphere. Thanks to his long sequence shots, which showcase the work of the actors, the filmmaker immerses us in a world of snow, forests and lakes, lending a dreamlike calm to the story. But this narrative calm is counter-squared by the underlying Nazi threat, where both Anna and the Priest are under surveillance. Tregenza’s long, fixed shots let our actors move around the frame, personifying his camera as an outsider’s gaze; the threat is often off-screen, invisible to our eyes and those of our characters.
But it also has to be said that by giving an atmospheric, dreamlike nature to its shots, The Fishing Place gradually loses what made its initial premise so interesting by not developing its plot enough. And yet, both Anna and the priest carry within them an internal conflict. While Anna’s conflict with the Nazi officer is apparent, the Priest’s conflict is less so and stands out as the most interesting, and it’s a pity to feel that his character is gradually less explored. What’s more, The Fishing Place is made all the more enigmatic by its last twenty minutes, which take us back to the contemporary world, where the link with our initial story seems even more remote.
One could almost say that The Fishing Place traps itself in its own approach to its story and by its own qualities. And it’s especially a shame to have to complain about the film’s story when its visual, rhythmic approach is so intriguing and engaging. Like an Ingmar Bergman-style narrative, the political context is merely a backdrop for a tragedy in a seemingly peaceful, even idyllic village. And yet, despite the aforementioned shortcomings, the qualities of The Fishing Place far outweigh them, making Tregenza’s film a fine work of art for the curious to explore.
"…stands out above all for its atmosphere..."
