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Performances are earthy and honest, tapping into complex feelings under the surface. As the sporty, handsome Beyto, Ates is an engaging young man who is finally beginning to understand who he is and now needs to fight if he wants to be truthful. His chemistry with the loose, likeable Stapfer is sweet and charming. And his relationship with his unbending parents is remarkably textured, played with surprising nuance by Tuna and Tastemur. Meanwhile, Aydin adds her own superb angles to the story, becoming a particularly strong character in the final act.

Phrases like "joining the army will make a man out of you" sharply reflect the deep misunderstanding about masculinity that infuses some cultures. This fear of homosexuality only leads to lies that often put young people's lives in danger. The script balances this with a bracing understanding of various perspectives, although a resolution certainly will never come easily if parents are so short on understanding and compassion, forcing their children to live a lie.

themes, language, violence

2.Dec.21

Seydoux is terrific as the confident, glamorous professional whose internal world begins to wobble, realising that she's just like the fake people she hates. It's a delicately layered performance, as France struggles to free herself from the box she's put herself into, so she can look her savvy preteen son (Amiel) in the eye. Biolay remains pointedly enigmatic as Fred, cleverly keeping their relationship out of focus. And Arioli is magnetic as a young man whose face-value approach to the world catches France off-guard, further fuelling her downfall.

Dumont's script is smart and complex, less an attack on journalism than on a society in which everything is a product and image is everything. The real targets of vitriol are the self-serving politicians France confronts on-camera, and even there Dumont seems to be admitting that there's no way they can ever truly do the right thing. It's easy to sympathise with France's need for approval, but her crisis of self-confidence feels oddly shallow. So in the end, the film is perhaps more shocking than illuminating.

themes, language

8.Dec.21

Performances are deliberately subdued, channeling big feelings into tiny flickers of expression. Rapace and Gudnason are compelling and sympathetic, with a nicely understated chemistry. So as their actions and reactions become increasingly surreal, we're actually pulled in deeper. We realise how effective this has been in a key moment with Heraldsson's nice-guy loser Petur, who takes his own journey as he grapples with his response and begins to find himself.

The story can of course be read on several levels, provocatively tapping into family issues from unhinged mythological angles. The relentlessly dry Scandinavian sense of humour continually catches us off-guard, narrowly avoiding a shift into broad farce or soapy melodrama. This is no mean feat, as the premise could easily have been played for laughs instead of chills. So the way Johannsson makes us feel things so deeply is remarkable. And even if it drags a bit in the final act, the story's astonishing conclusion impossible to forget.

themes, language, violence, sexuality

5.Dec.21