In โHot Spot,โ the future of law enforcement looks somewhat different from what โRoboCopโ predicted in 1987. With his bleach-blond, frizzy-permed mullet, giant hoop earrings, cuban-heeled Beatle boots and black-and-white lycra biker suit fitted to accentuate his every dadbod curve, police detective Djonny (Andrzej Konopka) instead appears to have been teleported directly from 1987 to the barren post-apocalyptic wasteland where Agnieszka Smoczynskaโs bizarre sci-fi thriller unfolds. Comfortingly human in its bad taste, Djonnyโs demented styling promises some degree of comedy to follow; instead, his sore-thumb appearance in this escalatingly bleak, inscrutable vision of humanityโs last gasp under AI rule is just one of several eccentric tonal conflicts presented to the audience.
The flamboyant strangeness of โHot Spotโ comes as no great surprise: Smoczynska, after all, is the wildly talented genre magpie who first turned heads with 2015โs loopy adult mermaid tale โThe Lureโ;ย since then, the Polish director has brought a similarly singular, dreamy sensibility to more ostensibly straightforward dramatic material, both in 2018โs superb psychodrama โFugueโ and 2022โs flawed but moving biopic โThe Silent Twins.โ Reunited with โThe Lureโ writer Robert Bolesto, she returns here to outright fantasy territory, with her biggest budget to date; that, combined with a relatively high-profile U.S. release through Focus Features (following premieres at Fantasia and Polandโs New Horizons fest), might suggest Smoczynska has gone commercial on us.
Only a few minutes into โHot Spot,โ itโs clear thatโs not the case. Introductory title cards establish the setting as โnowhere in the futureโ โ though some Greek ruins disrupt the bleached desert sprawl โ and the premise is equally unconcerned with finer details. Global climate catastrophe and international governmental collapse have laid waste to much of the worldโs human population; those who remain mostly reside on an arid compound where survival is dependent on mandatory connection to the Head, a sentient AI system. The Head provides water and nourishment, and enables residents to communicate telepathically with each other. It also forces residents to witness the grisly execution of anyone who doesnโt follow the rules. If you suspect now that ChatGPT is not your friend, consider your fears founded.
Notwithstanding his unconventional appearance, Djonny is a compliant sort. As a cop, however, his livelihood is dependent on those who arenโt. They include various bands of rebel refugees who have resisted signing their minds over to the Head, but also Djonnyโs wife Ayka (Reika Kirishima), an avant-garde musician who, wary of their digital overlords, frequently disconnects from the system โ and, to her husbandโs consternation, makes their young son Zen (George Aurimas Cris) follow suit. When a ritual murder is committed in this closed community, suspicion falls on the refugees, and Djonny is assigned to the case: His somewhat slack investigations center on Rana (Noomi Rapace), a rebel โcyberwitchโ capable of causing sustained blackouts in the Head.
If this all makes approximate sense so far โ so long as you donโt ask too many probing questions about who was murdered, why, who Djonny actually reports to, why, and so on โ the filmโs rather rudimentary logic begins to unravel around the halfway mark. As the primary story stalls, Bolestoโs script gets distracted with secondary narrative elements that are incompatible with the whole. One character, it turns out, has shape-shifting capabilities: This curveball makes for some startling imagery, but doesnโt emerge from any particular circumstance of this dystopian scenario, and doesnโt illuminate anything about it either.
Itโs just as well, then, that Smoczynskaโs frequently dazzling world-building rests more on atmosphere and design than sociopolitical specifics. When the film throws up an extended, strobe-lit dance-break sequence at one of Aykaโs techno-punk concerts โ Marcin Macuk and Zuzanna Wroลsk, the duo behind โThe Lureโsโ compellingly weird song score, compose her abrasive robo-poetry originals โ โHot Spotโ actually feels most in its element, coasting on menacing, sexily dehumanized vibes, amped up by the blood-and-sand hues of DP Jakub Kijowskiโs handsomely dehydrated lensing. Anna Anosowiczโs highly resourceful production design makes excellent use of existing midcentury brutalist architecture and far more ancient, enduring structures, all moldering under superficially futuristic window-dressing. โHot Spotโ conjures not a brave new world but a thriftily recycled one, hanging by a thread onto past manmade glories.
Perhaps that also explains Djonnyโs increasingly deranged Goodwill wardrobe: faux-tigerskin car coat, knockoff Vivienne Westwood kilt and all. Costume designer Katarzyna Lewinska appears to be having the most fun of anyone in โHot Spot,โ but this spirit of goofy anarchy feels beamed in from another universe, or at least another movie, entirely. When Djonny exits his dusty, self-driving โ80s sports car to the synthy stabs of Europeโs โThe Final Countdown,โ we sense some winking irony afoot, but that, too, is a tonal red herring. Played completely deadpan by Konopka, the character beneath this daft assemblage of aesthetic choices makes no real sense as a functionary in this dry, dark future, much less as its hero.
That position, by rights, should go to Rapace, characteristically stern and fabulously bescarved as his AI-opposed nemesis, but Rana remains equally an equally unfocused figure. As both their arcs flatline in the deadening desert heat, one could, at a push, argue for โHot Spotโ as a nihilistic forecast of a future in which artificial intelligence renders void all human conflict and contrast. If so, Smoczynskaโs restless, vigorously witty imagination feels proudly unsuited to that vision.