Poland. December 31. 1999. Four hours before midnight, and a 22-year-old man (Sebastian) takes a TV presenter and a security guard hostage. He is determined to deliver his message to the prime-time New Year’s Eve audience. The horrified producers watching on, are trying to salvage the situation before he does. So goes the set-up for Jakub Piątek’s feature-film debut.
On the brink of the year 2000, Sebastian’s fin-de-siècle angst seems apropos for his age. He’s a quintessential disgruntled young-adult, with daddy issues, the ennui of young adulthood, listlessness, and inertia. He is a rebel without a cause, so much that early on we begin to question just what the purpose of this hostage situation might be.
That question is not necessarily a dealbreaker. It’s an interesting set-up. A rash attempt at emblazoning one’s name in the headlines. In service of what, though? Exploring the restlessness of craving attention might be a good hook to explore if Piątek had a clear focus on extending the malaise of Sebastian towards any specific point.
“Prime Time” is a fictional story, although history is littered with tales of men taking hostages in an attempt to be seen and heard. That Piątek chooses to ground his story in recent history, at a time of technological change – preceding our current inundation with technology – feels ripe for exploration. But he and co-writer Łukasz Czapski have established overarching ideas and concepts that suggest significance without moving beyond that to true insight.
Mira Kryle is one of the hostages. When we first meet her, she’s arriving late to her job as a presenter, aware of her celebrity host status and charming but dismissive of her colleagues. In the fray that ensues when Sebastian storms the set, Mira is left behind. She becomes Sebastian’s reluctant listener as he bemoans his fate, and pleads his case for airtime to the producer – but also, in a way, pleading his case for his own worth to himself. The results are less than propulsive, which feels odd for a 90-minute film covering under four hours with a gun constantly in the frame, or suggested off camera. For a hostage thriller, “Prime Time” is startlingly inert.
Part of that is the film’s own placidity in contemplating its world. The script seems fascinated by the idea of letting this unfold before a cell-phone was an extension of the human body. The delays in time create crises that complicate matters. But what exactly does the 1999 setting add to this? Or, how does Piatek’s camera choose to investigate the fates of these people and their surroundings in any way that is more than superficial?
Bartosz Bielenia is doing committed, if effortful, work as Sebastian. He seems to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders, appearing gaunt and sallow in ways that unnerve. A late conversation with his father, unwisely solicited by the police, reveals hints of personal details that may have led to his angst. The script equivocates, leaving Bielenia to do what he can. He tries, but there’s little to work with. The parameters are so narrow, there’s scant room for nuance or depth.
Michał Łuka’s cinematography makes the most of the tight studio where much of the drama is set. It’s claustrophobic and distancing. There’s also an arid air of detachment that’s compelling, but it’s not really going anywhere and the more “Prime Time” continues, the more it seems to be spinning going nowhere. Like Sebastian. But, it’s not enough for Piatek to present a lone rebel screaming for the world to pay attention. It’s one thing that the film itself cannot seem to commit to why Sebastian wants to be heard. But, it’s even more perplexing that it seems unprepared to really explore the implications of that restlessness enough to tell us why this story matters.
You might be forgiven for thinking this is based on a true story. Not because the events seem profound, but because it plays like a generic case of historiography – presenting without investigating or proposing anything. The fact that this is fictional, that this is an idea that was built from the ground-up, perplexes, because the “Prime Time” cannot justify itself.
What is “Prime Time” trying to tell us? Its focus on these characters is so limited to these few hours, illuminating their sensibilities feels impossible. It’s difficult to feel anything more than indifference at the plight of the characters because the film seems to hold them at a distance. And to what end? It’s hard to tell. We can read a lot into the conceptual framework and consider the implications of the symbols. We can consider what the Y2K craze and the turn of the millennia to come might bring. We have lived it. We can consider how Sebastian predates wilder, lone-wolf figures. We can consider questions of technological booms. Or, obsessions with reality TV. Or the relentless unavoidability of gun violence. But we cannot infer a thoughtful film from ideas, and inferences are not enough to justify what we can see within the frame.
I found myself wondering about the implications of the story after. Piatek ends on a note that’s more decisive than most of what comes before. But my wondering was less about the film itself, and more an attempt to fill in gaps. A synopsis would have left me with many of the same questions, making “Prime Time” too facile to be anything beyond a ghost of a compelling idea.
Prime Time is playing on Netflix.
