Brother

One of the most touching discoveries at the 2025 Warsaw Film Festival, Brother tells the story of Dawid (Filip Wiłkomirski) and Michał (Tytus Szymczuk). They are different in temperament and in their relationships with their imprisoned father and their mother, who strives to keep the family together. Director Maciej Sobieszczański draws the viewer into this intimate family space with warmth, empathy and cinematic precision, gently leading us through the tunnel of dramatic events toward the light – pure brotherly love, forgiveness, and liberation.

Dawid, the older brother and a gifted judoka, must decide between his obligation to his mother and younger brother and attending a sports boarding school. The younger sibling, Michał, commits small-time thefts. He is devoted to his father and has a strong bond with his brother. When their mother begins dating Dawid's coach, Michał starts to worry because he fears losing both his mother and his brother. Each of the men embarks on their own path of overcoming challenges shaped by duty, fear, and guilt.

The performances of Wiłkomirski and Szymczuk form the emotional backbone of Brother. Wiłkomirski, works with minimalism. His inner tension is conveyed through restraint, bodily control, and his gaze. Szymczuk, is the opposite: lively, defiant and vulnerable. He is the emotional compass for the family and reacts painfully to even the smallest changes. The closeness between the brothers is made clear by the director's use of small spaces (their shared bed, a small kitchen, and a narrow hallway) and quiet, honest conversations.

Like her sons, the mother experiences her own hardships. Following Michał's theft, she breaks down in a restroom, displaying both inner strength and vulnerability. She is exhausted but not broken. The director does not idealise her or turn her into a victim. We see a woman entitled to experience doubt, fatigue, and choice. Her relationship with the coach is portrayed delicately and credibly as a natural continuation of life rather than a plot device.

Sobieszczański does not rush. Events unfold gradually, with enough space and time to experience them and reflect. Transitions between scenes are smooth. He combines humour and childish protest: a scene where Michał jealously cuts up his mother’s underwear and deliberately hangs it in the bathroom is funny yet honest. By contrast, a scene in the kitchen where the mother reads a letter about the brothers’ father while crying is heartbreaking. Michał disagrees with every word and fixes her with a piercing gaze. Both the mother and the audience sense his resolve to support his father.

Even in the father’s physical absence, he is everywhere: in Dawid’s sense of duty, Michał’s loyalty and their mother’s fears. The way he appears on screen, half in shadow, half in light and only partially visible to the audience is one of the director's most striking decisions. This highlights the duality that runs throughout the narrative: fear and hope, closeness and distance, duty and desire, at the same time preserving mystery, allowing the audience to sense his presence without fully revealing him.

Brother never comes across as oppressive, even with the drama. Its tone is still soft, compassionate and bright. There are no fake breaks for tears, and there is no division between guilty and innocent. The shaking camera stays far away, giving the film a documentary feel and trusting the viewer to make their own meaning. By the end, you understand that you have lived inside the story and felt a part of this family.

Reviewed on: 12 Nov 2025