When I watched The Dark Knight for the first time and heard the Joker say that nobody would panic if he said that he was going to blow up a truck full of soldiers because it was all “part of the plan,” but they would freak out if he said that he’d kill the mayor, I didn’t quite get it. But with every rewatch, I actually understood what he was talking about. The government, or the powers that actually control them (and trust me, it’s not the public), always push the envelope for what should be considered acceptable when it comes to a catastrophe. One day, we think that the death of soldiers should bring the world to a standstill, but eventually, with the help of the media, that’s normalized. One day, you’ll think that there being zero survivors after a plane crash caused by faulty machinery would send a shiver down our collective spines, and the next day you’ll learn that nobody’s actually at fault for the incident. Back in 1993, when the MS Jan Heweliusz capsized in the Baltic Sea, everybody thought that it’d bring about huge reforms in terms of dignity of labor and workers’ safety. However, what was normalized after that was the practice of covering up any kind of institutional corruption and pinning all the blame on the person who just tried to do their best to salvage an unprecedented situation.
Jan Holoubek’s Heweliusz tells the story of the titular roll-on/roll-off ship that capsized near Rugen in the Baltic Sea during its trip to Sweden. Captain Ulasiewicz chose to go down with the ship. Several crew members and passengers died. And when Skirmuntt and the handful of survivors made their way back to Poland after being stranded in Germany, they came to the bitter realization that, instead of being compensated for what they had endured in those cold waters, they were being treated like killers. Why? Well, the shipping company that owned the vessel, Navica Ferriers, was a state-owned establishment, which meant that the government was in the spotlight because of this catastrophe. Officials like Portu, Kubara, and Kosiorek knew that if a proper investigation happened, then they would be blamed for the shoddy state of the ship as well as the fact that it was allowed to sail during such horrible weather conditions. In addition to that, the Polish Armed Forces would be exposed for overloading the ship by forcing the crew to carry some suspicious items over to Sweden. Hence, the cover-up began. Binter, an employee of Navica, was strictly against this, and he joined the investigating panel in the hopes of bringing the truth to light. What he and the rest of Poland witnessed, though, was a farce of the highest order.
Screenwriter Kasper Bajon unfolds the story of Heweliusz in two ways. On one hand, you have the narrative that progresses linearly, where you see the survivors, the families of the deceased, the shipowners, and the government’s special agents tackling the aftermath of the sinking of the vessel. On the other hand, you have the narrative that repetitively shows the sinking of the vessel, adding a little bit of information to it in order to give you an idea of the bigger picture. So, yeah, there’s no doubt that it’s heavily inspired by Akira Kurosawa’s seminal classic, Rashomon. Much like how people reacted to Christopher Nolan’s Dunkirk, some might think that it’s a bit gimmicky to use that format to tell a true story. But given how the truth about the capsizing of the Polish ship never came to light, I think this was the only way to tell this story. Just like Kurosawa, the point that Bajon is trying to make is that humans have this innate need to lie, because they think that the truth will diminish their stature. The more egotistical and materialistic we become, the more we lie. And before we know it, this habit becomes national policy and starts affecting those who are just trying to make ends meet. However, nobody bats an eye, because the general public getting trampled by the system has been normalized.
Now, just because Heweliusz uses the Rashomon effect doesn’t mean that it immediately becomes a masterpiece. In fact, 3 out of the 5 episodes will probably test your patience. But those last 2 episodes are so brilliant that the use of a slow pace to build the characters and the repetition of the capsizing of the ship will all seem worth it. I mean, to be honest, when I started watching the miniseries, I was ready to write it off as just another docudrama about a catastrophe that will be relatable to people of the country where it happened while alienating the rest of us. And then, by the end, I was listing down all the massive cover-ups that had happened all over the globe and tearing out my hair thinking that we had messed up so badly as a species that we’ll never be able to build sustainable societies anymore. That’s what happens when effective writing meets impactful direction. So, kudos to Jan Holoubek. Despite being a miniseries, Holoubek and his team have done a great job of making every single frame look extremely cinematic. Everything, from the recreation of the capsizing of the vessel to the courtroom drama, is beautifully shot and edited. Heck, multi-million dollar movies being released theatrically nowadays don’t display the level of attention to detail, when it comes to costume design, production design, art direction, VFX, SFX, and sound design, that Holoubek and his crew are flexing over here. I mean that as a compliment and an insult.
The performances from the cast of Heweliusz are excellent across the board. Every single actor is so good that it’s difficult to say who stole the show. Borys Szyc, Konrad Eleryk, Lukasz Lewandowski, and all those who form the crew of the titular ship are simply excellent. Magdalena Rozczka, Justyna Wasilewska, Mia Goti, Michalina Labacz, and all the members of the supporting cast playing the families of those who went down with the ship are technically the heart of the show. Michal Zurawski is essentially the audience surrogate because the mystery of the incident unravels through his eyes, and he voices almost every thought crossing the mind of any rational person watching this miniseries. Even though Jacek Koman doesn’t get a lot of screen time, he manages to make his character really memorable during the finale; his exasperation is so relatable. And while Miroslaw Zbrojewicz, Miroslaw Kropielnicki, Joachim Lamza, Michal Pietrzak, and Marcin Januszkiewicz will get under your skin by showing the banality of evil, it’s Andrzej Konopka who’ll make you turn violent, and I mean that as a compliment. If it’s not clear already, allow me to state explicitly that I highly recommend giving this Polish Netflix miniseries a watch. Hopefully it’ll inspire you to stay vigilant about the catastrophes that are happening around you and the way the government and the judiciary are sweeping them under the rug.
