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Film: A Swedish Love Story
Release date: 21st March 2011
Certificate: 15
Running time: 115 mins
Director: Roy Andersson
Starring: Ann-Sofie Kylin, Rolf Sohlman, Anita Lindblom, Bertil Norstrom, Lennart Tellfelt
Genre: Drama/Romance
Studio: Artificial Eye
Format: DVD
Country: Sweden
Those who are familiar with director Roy Andersson’s more surrealist work may be surprised by his debut feature. In A Swedish Love Story, Andersson explores the heady mix of confusion and delirium that can only ever be caused by that first teenage romance. Although it is a theme that has been explored by many a director, arguably few have done it as well as Roy Andersson.
A Swedish Love Story revolves around two teenagers, 15-year-old Par and 13-year-old Annika, who meet when on an outing with their respective families and proceed to fall in love over the course of the summer.
During this time, they are oblivious to the problems within their families, concerned only with their own feelings for each other.
The film culminates with the two families meeting for the first time at Par’s house in the countryside...
Some experiences in life are universal. Regardless of their generation, it’s pretty safe to say that every 15-year-old wishes they were 25 and everyone over the age of 25 wishes they were 15. There is also a good chance that, at some point, between the ages of 15 and 25, everyone falls in love to some extent. It is this universality that endears audiences to A Swedish Love Story some forty-one years after it was first released. Therefore, despite the film’s many retro features, such as the fact that much of the action takes place in diners with pinball machines and the cast wear leather jackets that were last seen on John Travolta in Grease, the underlying premise of the film is just as applicable today as it was all those years ago.
The film opens with Par trying out various boxing moves and smoking poses in front of a mirror, an image which sums up the two lead characters perfectly. Like many teenagers, they spend their time languishing against walls and smoking whilst casting surreptitious glances at each other in a desperate attempt to look sophisticated. And yet, when they try to communicate with each other (at least in the early instances), they cannot find the words and it is left to their friends to pass messages back and forth. This childlike adultness is expertly and subtly conveyed through wholly convincing and likeable performances by Rolf Sohlman and Ann-Sofie Kylin as Par and Annika respectively.
As well as highly naturalistic performances, the film also boasts beautiful photography where even the most mundane scenes are romanticised by Jörgen Persson’s camera. The scene in which Par and his friends are riding their scooters at sunset, lit only by the glow of their headlights, creates a dusky, hazy mise-en-scène and reflects the world in a way in which only two people in love can view it.
Not only do Par and Annika view the world differently, they also create their own world which excludes everything and everyone else. When Annika’s parents go away for the weekend, they adopt the house as their own and remain completely oblivious to everything outside of it. They only have time for each other. The camera is respectful of this as it swoops and swirls from the street into their bedroom window to capture them dancing together. It’s as if it cannot help but get caught up in giddy feelings of love and romance emanating from the characters. This feeling is also heightened by the romantic soundtrack, which increases and then decreases in tempo in accordance with the movement of the camera.
Moreover, the innocence of the protagonists is heightened by weary cynicism of the adults in the film. Anika’s aunt, Eva, laments her failed ambitions to be an air stewardess, whilst her father is a salesman beaten by capitalism who tells his daughter that “money is everything.” Thanks to the cocoon they’ve created for themselves, Par and Annika remain oblivious to the mounting pressure that exists within their families. This pressure reaches its crescendo when the two families meet officially, which brings the narrative full circle. It is here that Andersson’s more absurdist tendencies can be observed and the final scene culminates with Annika’s father going missing because he can no longer bear the stain. As the search party returns, Annika asks Par about what might have been going on as neither of them witnessed the commotion: “I think they just went fishing,” he says. This wonderfully innocent line brilliantly reflects the theme of the film and its characters - it’s about two teenagers who are so young and so besotted with each other that they have yet to experience the harsh reality of the world. And as the credits roll, one can only hope that they are allowed to remain this way for a little while longer.
A Swedish Love Story is a charming film whose cyclical narrative mirrors the enclosed world that its two young protagonists create for themselves. The captivating performances and the camerawork all expertly evoke the innocence and excitement of teenage love in a way that you can’t help but warm to. SH
Film: Songs From The Second Floor
Release date: 21st March 2011
Certificate: 15
Running time: 98 mins
Director: Roy Andersson
Starring: Lars North, Stefan Larsson, Bengt C.W. Carlsson, Torbjorn Fahlström, Sten Andersson
Genre: Comedy/Drama
Studio: Artificial Eye
Format: DVD
Country: Sweden/Norway/Denmark
Leaps From The Second Floor might be a more appropriate title for Roy Andersson’s fourth feature. A success at 2000’s Cannes, Andersson’s portrait of discontent earned him a share of the Special Jury Prize, so for him, at least, the four years it took to complete were worth the effort. But is the 98 minute investment worth anyone else’s time?
A sizable chunk of Songs From The Second Floor is spent presenting a handful of middle-aged protagonists who do little more than struggle through day-to-day life. As the narrative makes shallow burrows into the circumstances of each man, micro-plots emerge which, alone, have little impact on the film’s direction, but collectively they make Andersson’s point.
Central, although by no means dominant, to the first division is the plight of a salesman. Introduced by way of one of his employees whom he ruthlessly fires, his situation is one that the audience learns most about. Having dismissed his staff, he then loses his furniture business to a lit match - and his own hand. Realising that his company is more profitable as an insurance claim than a business, he chooses an insurance battle over a war for sales. Unimpressed by his rash action, his wife proceeds to throw him onto the street. A broken man, he would perhaps benefit from a bed at the psychiatric ward where his youngest son resides.
The latter story that brings Songs From The Second Floor to an end is another one of commerce. This time the protagonist is scouting for his next lucrative business opportunity and “an extra zero” on his earnings. This is where religion comes to the rescue, or so he and his new partner think. The millennium is fast approaching and Jesus will hit the big 2000: what better opening to earn at least two more zeros? With the most powerful marketing tool leading their venture, the duo tap into in a new trade: crucifixes. The inevitable happens, of course, and their high hopes are dashed. It appears God wasn’t on their side this time, and nor was business…
Those tuning in to Songs From The Second Floor to be taken on a journey will find themselves at a standstill. The film’s fragmented structure means that no progress can really be made and the scant plot traps characters in a loop, destined to continue their circular, repetitive lives. No doubt, this undeniably forms the foundation of Andersson’s bleak vision, his argument if you will, but it hardly excites onlookers.
Viewers, in fact, are at mighty risk of alienation. As insightful as Songs From The Second Floor may be, an absence of substance lingers - there is nothing solid to get into. As one character comments, “it makes you wonder where all these people are going,” and, in this case, wonder why you should care. Protagonists are mere instruments to Andersson’s exploration of the monotony of life. Although their privacy is evaded by cameras in the bedroom, a massive distance remains between the screen and the audience. Viewers are very much watching events, rather than experiencing them. And who would want to anyway, when they already live this tedium for the other twenty-two-and-a-half hours of their day?
Yet it might be a bit more satisfying if the audience’s own investment in Andersson’s film was at least rewarded by a bit of engagement; acknowledgement, even. Characters open the film as strangers and they close it as strangers. None of the characters are attributed any depth - no personal history, no sentiments, and no personality. There is no-one inviting viewers to identify with them and the only empathy up for grabs is the shared experience of life’s little burdens. Vitally, though, motive is missing, and this is what might frustrate viewers. Save that simple weakness - money - there appears to be little driving the characters, and this contributes to and indeed reinforces Andersson’s intention. Just like the film’s narrative, or lack of one, this is strikingly true of reality, and the direction should be recognised for that. For in real life, no, we don’t know that man’s life story; no, we can’t always read our friends’ emotions in their eyes; and, no, we don’t know our colleagues’ lifelong ambitions. But whether this is what viewers want in a film should surely be their choice.
Songs From The Second Floor is no doubt an accurate reminder of life as it is, no frills attached. Andersson’s observations are meaningfully valid, but ultimately, they have been made before. His focus on industry gives him a clichéd Marxist argument and his characters are too realistic to enjoy. The director’s four year effort to reach the same conclusion, or non-conclusion, will be unfulfilling for most. Songs From The Second Floor is a film of reflection but certainly not progression. RS
Set at the dawning of the new millennium, this hilarious masterpiece is from the brilliantly offbeat worldview of Swedish filmmaker Roy Andersson, director of the acclaimed You, The Living.
This witty yet resonant film unfolds as a series of comic interconnected vignettes that portray scenes from an urban world which has ground to a halt and whose citizens teeter on the brink of madness.
Film: Songs From The Second Floor
Release date: 21st March 2011
Certificate: 15
Running time: 98 mins
Director: Roy Andersson
Starring: Lars North, Stefan Larsson, Bengt C.W. Carlsson, Torbjorn Fahlström, Sten Andersson
Genre: Comedy/Drama
Studio: Artificial Eye
Format: DVD
Country: Sweden/Norway/Denmark
DVD Special Features:
•
Excerpts from Roy Andersson films
•
The Making of the Burnt Furniture Scenes
•
The Making of the Magician Scene
•
'Obsessions From The Second Floor' featurette
Two adolescents meet and cautiously fall in love in beautiful surroundings during the peak of an idyllic Swedish summer.
Oblivious to social boundaries, they innocently create their own milieu in contrast to the distorted relationships, disillusionment, and world-weariness of the adults around them.
Roy Andersson's feature debut is a sunny, optimistic work that draws comparison to the early work of Ingmar Bergman.
Film: A Swedish Love Story
Release date: 21st March 2011
Certificate: 15
Running time: 115 mins
Director: Roy Andersson
Starring: Ann-Sofie Kylin, Rolf Sohlman, Anita Lindblom, Bertil Norstrom, Lennart Tellfelt
Genre: Drama/Romance
Studio: Artificial Eye
Format: DVD
Country: Sweden
DVD Special Features:
•
Excerpts from Roy Andersson films
