Potwash, the latest film by East Anglian based filmmaker Josh Trett, is a portrait of initially familiar tropes, that receive an intriguing treatment. The titular Potwash, Isaac (Kyle Malan), is a shy pub kitchen worker. His employment and work colleagues occupy most of his time, and the film embraces this working-class atmosphere. Most of the action takes place in the kitchen or just outside, the long lines of the kitchen presenting an expansive yet enclosing space where Isaac interacts with waitress Charlotte (Darcy Winters), the Head Chef (Mark Nash) and the Sous Chef (Will Pierson). Within this concentrated environment, we learn of Charlotte’s kindness, Head Chef’s arrogance and Sous Chef’s gentle mocking towards Isaac.
Isaac’s attraction towards Charlotte is evident and relatable, the youth coming across as a hopeless romantic. This impression is increased by the other major aspect of the film, Isaac’s immersion in music. Scenes away from the pub feature Isaac in his bedroom, this domestic space brought to vivid life by the set design – especially the movie posters – and Isaac burning CDs, dancing to music, and scrolling through various songs. Is this a house he shares with housemates, or simply the home of his parents? It would be easy to assume Isaac still lives with his parents, due to his unworldly and rather wide-eyed demeanour. Not that it matters, because the space of the bedroom is where Isaac comes alive, the narrow framing proving no barrier to his imagination. The musical immersion indicates wish fulfilment and provides his tentative connections, as burning CDs for Sous Chef and later for Charlotte gives Isaac a role in the kitchen beyond being ‘Potwash’.
The familiar tropes could almost feel cliched, but as events develop, something more peculiar emerges.
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The recognisable work situation and awareness of social issues give the film a grounded aspect, especially when things in the kitchen turn unpleasant. Initial advice gives way to threats and then harassment, rooted in entitlement. These moments occur in largely confining spaces, some inside the kitchen where shelves and counters as well as, in a particularly unsettling shot, hands, crowd the frame making one character seem looming while others are reduced. Interestingly, outside the kitchen also appears this way, as a yard where the workers take smoke breaks is framed in close quarters that indicate further enclosure.
This precise framing as well as the depth of field are the film’s most effective tools. As Isaac burns his CDs, we see multiple superimposed images. This expression of subjectivity imbues more of the film as it progresses, taking us into Isaac’s mind. On the one hand this stylistic choice helps the viewer engage with the protagonist, but the identification goes even further in the final act. Events that transpire at this point in the film are striking yet the overall treatment is ambiguous. Are we seeing what actually takes place or are we drawn even further into Isaac’s imagination? This ambiguity is the film’s greatest strength as, in the early stages, the familiar tropes could almost feel cliched, but as events develop, something more peculiar emerges. In doing so, Trett and his production team have crafted an intriguing and enveloping tale, one that balances the familiar with the implied, and leaves the viewer wondering just what took place.
