‘TREASURE’: A Promising Father-Daughter Journey That Falls A Bit Flat
Starring unconventional duo of Lena Dunham and Stephen Fry, I was looking forward to watch director Julia von Heinz's adaptation from Lily Bret’s novel “Too Many Men” about the hereditary impact of trauma.
The film follows Ruth Rothwax (Lena Dunham), an American journalist and Edek (Stephen Fry), her Polish father and Auschwitz survivor, as they embark on a trip to his native land.
Lena Dunham (right) and Stephen Fry in 'Treasure.'
The first scene opens on a frustrated Ruth whispering “for fuck’s sake” in the airport as she waits for her father who seems to be taking forever at baggage claim. This is our first introduction to Ruth and I love her already. Then appears a nonchalant Edek. It takes a few scenes to get used to Fry’s polish accent, which prompts the question of why he was selected for the role of a Polish man. Were there no Polish actors available for the role? The film producer did justify this decision by emphasising Fry's personal journey to retrace his grandfather's path to Auschwitz from Slovakia, but this casting choice is worth mentioning.
That being said, Fry delivers an effective performance as a traumatised revenant concealing his fear of confronting his past behind a facade of casual indifference. While his daughter Ruth has invested a lot of energy and research in planning this trip, he displays minimal interest in the historical landmarks and family locations she has outlined on her itinerary. The duo drifts around Poland in the back of Stefan’s taxi. As a cheerful traveling companion with a quiet and perceptive demeanour, Stefan watches Edek and Ruth ongoing disagreements throughout the journey.
It becomes clear that Edek’s pain has been carried along by his daughter and that her self-loathing is exacerbated by his apparent lack of consideration for her well-being. But rather than delving into this interesting dynamic, Ruth’s experience is only hinted at. Heinz skips over the nuances of a father’s clumsy attitude judging her daughter’s divorce and celibacy, putting her worth on her ex-husband’s qualities instead of her accomplishments and refusing to discuss the recent loss of her mother.
Ruth is evidently grappling with her inner turmoil through self-harm. We catch a glimpse of her struggles with an eating disorder as she begins uncontrollably eating alone in her hotel room on their first night in Poland. Similarly, there is a poignant moment where she stick-pokes a tattoo of what we presume to be her father’s Auschwitz prisoner number onto her thigh, seeking both pain and relief. She doesn’t get along with her father, yet she needs to have his prisoner number on her skin. This also is never explored again. Additionally, it would have been intriguing to delve into how her mother’s death served as the catalyst for her mental health struggles and her quest to reconnect with her past, leading to this trip with her father. She approaches the trip with a sense of reluctance, yet it is a necessity for her—a crucial step toward comprehending her roots and gaining clarity on her path forward.
Her obsessing over objects reminiscent of a time she wishes she could grasp in order to grasp herself is barely explored. She is ready to spend a fortune on what could be perceived as mere objects, but it is exactly what her quest is about. It’s all about self-perception and how to build or rebuild herself through these objects that constitute the only link between her past and her present. A more in-depth exploration of her body dysmorphia could have enriched her character and emphasised the intricate connection between emotional well-being and self-perception.
The highlight of the movie is a scene in the back of Stefan’s taxi. A long-awaited bonding moment where Edek goes through lost family pictures and mentions his sister for the first time. A shocked Ruth looks at her dad praising his sister’s many qualities that he equates to his daughter’s, indirectly telling her for the first time maybe that he loves her. Ruth finds a physical resemblance with her newly found aunt and we finally see her regaining a sense of self. She gladly accepts Stefan’s Polish pastries and devours them with pleasure, hinting at a new phase of nourishing her body instead of hurting it.
Because of all these omissions and missed-opportunities, the story-telling feels a bit dusty and the father-daughter dynamic lacks tension. By attempting to cover a multitude of themes, the movie falls short of expectations. It skims the surface of the profound themes it aims to explore, lacking the depth needed to fully engage the audience in a meaningful exploration of its characters. Having said that, the Fry-Dunham chemistry works. The aftertaste of Ruth and Edek’s journey into the past is not a bad one. The film still manages to shed light on the lasting impact of the Holocaust across generations in an engaging way and effectively captures grey and monotonous post-communist Poland. We are left with a feeling of loss and acceptance, along with the certainty that putting words on trauma is the only antidote.
AFTERTASTE
3.5