Actress Eili Harboe (left) with director Joachim Trier
THELMA
A
Norway (116 mi) 2017 d: Joachim
Trier
A brilliant character study of a young adolescent college
student (Eili Harboe as Thelma) who has left her Norwegian country home where
she’s lived her entire life to attend college classes in Oslo, subject to
living on her own for the first time, away from the domineering presence of her
overtly Christian parents. The opening prelude is an eye-opener, an
enthralling wintry sequence of a father (Henrik Rafelsen) taking his young
6-year old daughter into the woods on a hunting trip, hiking deep into the
snowy woods where they spot a deer, aiming the rifle first at the deer, but
then altering his position so the rifle is pointed directly into the back of
his daughter’s head, holding the position, to the viewer’s horror, for an
extended period of time before finally changing his mind, burdened apparently
by some unfathomable torment that lingers deep inside his troubled conscience, where
audible gasps could be heard in the audience. At least initially, this
ghastly image suggests there’s something wrong with any parent that would ever
stoop to this, as if they’ve been out in the woods too long. The
precision of that image really defies expectations, yet the stunning clarity of
the moment haunts the remainder of the film. Trier has a history of
provocative opening shots, in Oslo,
August 31 (2011) a stream of personalized, collective memories of Oslo
precede a suicide in progress, Oslo, August 31st -
Opening Memories (English Subs) (2:30), while another dazzling
display of his cinematic prowess opens Reprise
(2005), as two friends simultaneously drop manuscripts of novels they have
written into the mailbox while the narrator toys with the idea of various
outcomes that “could” happen, playfully using freeze frames and quick cuts,
always keeping viewers off guard, much of it conveyed through a glorious
montage of Nordic culture on parade in Oslo (with effective change of speed)
that plays to the pulsating punk rhythms of Joy Division’s “New Dawn
Fades” Reprise (Opening Section) (7:43). A
two-time Norwegian skateboard champion as a teenager, who got his start making
skateboard videos, Joachim Trier (1991) (3:25), his feature
film career has spanned little more than a decade, but Trier has yet to
misfire, as all his films are majestical journeys into the unknown, conveying
deeply humanistic themes, where one of his strong points is his contemporary
use of music. Due to the somber nature of this film, featuring
ever-changing moods, Trier uses an eclectic score, moody introspective music
including Chelsea Wolfe -
Feral Love (Official Video) - YouTube (3:48), Susanne Sundfør - Mountaineers
(featuring John Grant) - YouTube (5:21), and symphonic variations from
American composer Philip Glass to convey his mood, using excerpts from his
Symphony #2, Philip
Glass: Symphony No. 2 (1993) - YouTube (43:11).
At least initially, Thelma is portrayed as a hard-working
student dedicated to her studies, yet remains alone, apart from the rest,
making no new friends, something that obviously concerns her and her parents, as
eluded to from incessant phone calls that suggest smothering parents still
hovering over her, wanting to be included in her every move, which feels overly
intrusive. We certainly don’t get positive feelings from her parents, yet
Thelma herself is something of a delight, willing to stand up for herself when
challenged, showing plenty of composure for her young age, where her
introspective, overly shy nature allows the audience to experience her
innermost thoughts, where she casts an extremely positive spirit, if only
because we know she’s honest, warmhearted, and means well, where we sense
nothing phony about her. Along with his writing partner, Eskil Vogt, who
shares writing credits with the director for each of his four feature films,
they are extremely adept at building character, where it feels as if they’re
coming from a literary background, as the densely complex picture they create
is impressively detailed, right down to the minutia. No red flags are
raised until an incident occurs in class, set off, perhaps, by a bird violently
flying into the window pane, as her hands start to tremble. Before long,
she’s on the floor in the midst of an epileptic seizure, or so it seems, though
she seeks further follow-up treatment afterwards, where at least initially
tests are not definitive. Shortly afterwards, she meets another young
student in her class, Anja (Kaya Wilkins), who witnessed her incident, but was
more impressed by the way she handled herself in a social situation when she
was being teased about her faith, which she turned around to the condescending
student, asking if he comprehends how his cellphone works, leaving him
searching for an explanation, suggesting technology is at least as unfathomable
as spirituality, yet no one questions it. The two girls become best
friends, adding a radiant glow to her look, smiling more frequently, expressing
an exhilaration that turns into young love, developing a special affection for
Anja, something that completely confounds her, as it’s beyond the realm of her
own comprehension. Without pandering to anything exploitive, their
relationship is allowed to develop naturally into sexuality and desire, while
at the same time she remains vulnerable and exposed to flashing strobe lights
in a dance club, or flickering lights in a classroom, as these kinds of
flashing light incidents can trigger seizures, where even the audience is
forewarned at the opening of the picture. But rather than fully embrace
and accept Anja, her sexual awakening unleashes other feelings, as it conflicts
with the scripture she was taught to respect, and she senses some unforeseen
danger is about to happen, so instead she suppresses her feelings entirely,
hoping they will simply go away. But instead her behavior becomes more
adventurous and reckless, the same consequences of a typical college student,
yet her seizures intensify.
One of the best aspects of this film is how slowly new
information is revealed and processed, as it changes the context of the film,
but in the most subtle fashion. That’s what’s substantially different,
and effective, about this film, remaining understated, holding its cards close
to the vest, making each new revelation that much more noteworthy and
impactful. There is an obligatory medical test, where in order to confirm
a diagnosis of epileptic seizures, they need to induce a seizure that can be
scientifically measured, where the surprise is there is no trace of epilepsy,
suggesting some other undiagnosed trauma, and is instead referred for a
psychiatric evaluation. Among the many factors of consideration is her
family history, where she had a grandmother with a lengthy confinement in a
mental hospital. Because so much of this is inexplicable, there’s a
beautiful montage of how history has dealt with this issue in the past, calling
it delirium or hysteria, possessed by demons, Satanic, labeling the victim a
witch, then burning them at the stake. What becomes abundantly clear is
that her family has kept much of this information from her, and what they have
told her is blatantly untrue, causing Thelma to have to reassess her own
condition, which puts her in a precarious situation, flying blind, so to speak,
where her next episode is magnified tenfold, breaking all worldly boundaries,
becoming a supernatural phenomenon of devastating proportions, veering into
Brian De Palma territory, namely The Fury
(1978), and prior to that, CARRIE (1976), or so it seems, without all the
hyper-exaggerated extravagance, as it all feels like a dream to her, unaware of
the full extent. She is so freaked out by this incident that she calls
her parents and wants to return home, where she immediately falls under the
spell of her father, who is also her treating physician. Instead of
accelerating into another stratosphere, the tone of the film remains quietly
subdued, where we still sense a kind of evil from her parents, whose motives
remain unclear, though a series of flashbacks dating back to Thelma’s childhood
unravel all the clues, becoming something altogether different.
Continually probing underneath the surface, the film is one whoppingly
different character study, where the earlier attention to detail pays off in
dividends, as the transition to paranormal remains within her persona, part of
who she is, where she remains, in essence, an innocent free of ulterior
motives, which is vastly different from the De Palma films, actually treading
new territory. The intricacies of her family relationship are dynamically
expressed, where the camera remains closely affiliated with Thelma’s point of
view at different stages in her life, where the audience sees the world as she
sees it, taking it all in, where it always feels like a new development,
dangerously fluctuating from nightmares to moments of angelic benevolence,
where growing pains are inevitably linked to her own internally developing
existential horror, continually having to ward off yet another
catastrophe. What she discovers is a terrifying realization of an unstoppable
telekinetic power developing within, where on earth she is one of a kind, yet,
mysteriously, with every breath she remains true to herself, even more human,
which is easily the most remarkable aspect of the film.
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