2012 Top Ten Films of the Year: #9 King of Devil's Island (Kongen av Bastøy)

 

KING OF DEVIL’S ISLAND (Kongen av Bastøy)           A-             

Norway  Sweden  Poland  France  (120 mi)  2010  ‘Scope  d:  Marius Holst

A different side of Scandinavian films that we rarely see, one that is as brutally harsh as the bleak wintry landscape, where fortitude is built by learning how to survive in the worst circumstances, where in this part of the world surviving the elements is a continual test of character.  Based on a true story in 1915, set on the island of Bastøy on the North Sea inlet south of Oslo, they run an Alcatraz style prison for delinquent boys, where some may be orphans, some have mental health issues, others may have been caught for petty crimes, or may just be poor, but boys from 8 to 18 languish on this penal colony for years paying a kind of eternal penitence, where getting lost in the system is an understatement, as their release depends upon the discretion of the sadistic Governor in charge, Stellan Skarsgård, who firmly believes hard work and a firm stick will somehow transform these unruly boys into model citizens.  His job is to mold them into compliant citizens that obey rules and follow orders.  The truthful severity of the brutal acts against children make this kind of film off limits to American filmmakers, as this honestly exposes a kind of monstrous inhumanity within Norway’s own history that’s missing in American films.  Some of the best remembered prison films are A MAN ESCAPED (1956), THE GREAT ESCAPE (1963), COOL HAND LUKE (1967), IF… (1968), ONE FLEW OVER THE CUCKOO’S NEST (1975), SHAWHANK REDEMPTION (1994), where each one raises the question of prisoner escape, seen by the other inmates as an act of heroics, yet not so the warden who must make an example to deter similar actions, resorting to ruthless measures if caught, making one think twice about ever doing it again.  Each of these movies suggests men can only endure so much torture and relentless oppression, resorting to wit and bravery to conjure up improbable acts of escape, but not so here, as someone instead irrationally refuses to escape when the door is left wide open, where this may have you on the edge of your seat.

Unraveling as a story within a story, where a young harpooner aboard a Moby Dick style whaling ship marvels at the endurance of a whale that has been shot 3 times, yet still manages to elude them throughout most of the day, a theme turned back upon the humans, as it is their own beastly behavior that takes centerstage in this film.  With the arrival of two new inmates, a burly young sailor Erling (Benjamin Helstad) immediately disrupts the balance of power by challenging the status quo, threatening escape almost immediately, which places the other boys in jeopardy, especially Olav (Trond Nilssen), who is given responsibility over his dormitory as he’s expecting his release soon, considered a model prisoner.  What’s especially interesting is the interplay between these two, as they are polar opposites with uniquely compelling viewpoints.  They immediately test one another with a kind of LORD OF THE FLIES (1963) psychological battle of wits, while at the same time the Governor is testing the rebellious nature of Erling, continually adding harsher work details which makes his workmates miserable, but he continually takes the brunt of it, routinely given added punishments where he’s mindlessly ordered to move a pile of rocks ten feet away into another pile, only to be instructed afterwards to move them all back again.  The viewer soon discovers the island is a child labor camp, where they perform farming and forestry work details, with society getting a special bonus out of their cheap labor.  Except for the leads, most of the kids are non-professionals, where with little dialogue the director subtly weaves into the fabric a sense of community from the boys point of view, as they’re all victims of the same inhumane living conditions, where what’s missing is the capacity to look out for one another.       

What’s especially effective is the gorgeous ‘Scope camerawork from John Andreas Andersen whose sweeping panoramas and wintry landscapes look brutally cold, where winter never looked harsher and more ominous, where these are boys, after all, continually punished and brutalized in the name of some utterly fictitious social good, the Governor’s goal of making them “honorable, humble, and useful Christian boys,” as if he could beat them into submission.  While the tense build up of the inevitable rebellion may be held back too long, as there’s little doubt the floodgates at some point will open, when they do it comes with a flurry, all precipitated by extreme abuse to the weakest among them, a boy violated by the housemaster, Kristoffer Joner, in a role reminiscent of Donald Sutherland’s sick portrayal of a fascist baby killer in Bertolucci’s 1900, especially when the peasants turn on him.  So it’s not heroics but abuse of power, a cowardly cover up, where contemptible lies are met with anger and disgust, which has an initial liberating effect, but a bit like Haneke’s FUNNY GAMES (1997), the initial wave of hope is crushed with even harsher and more barbaric methods, making things seem hopeless before a sea change of communal emotion comes swiftly crashing through the gates like a raging flood, an apocalyptic response to the torrent of sins heaped upon them.  The chaos that follows is just that, a sprawling, sweeping flow of events that comes to resemble the image of that wounded whale ferociously fighting for its last gasp of freedom.  Holst is at his best in the extremely personal finale, pitch perfect and beautifully staged, thrilling to watch, where he judiciously takes his time allowing events to play out, becoming a poetic reverie of innocence lost.  Shot mostly in Estonia, the music by Johan Soderqvist is especially captivating, offering a somber lament at exactly the right moment, adding a layer of quiet intimacy to a beautifully accomplished film.

King of Devil's Island (Kongen av Bastøy)

KING OF DEVIL’S ISLAND (Kongen av Bastøy)           A-             

Norway  Sweden  Poland  France  (120 mi)  2010  ‘Scope  d:  Marius Holst

A different side of Scandinavian films that we rarely see, one that is as brutally harsh as the bleak wintry landscape, where fortitude is built by learning how to survive in the worst circumstances, where in this part of the world surviving the elements is a continual test of character.  Based on a true story in 1915, set on the island of Bastøy on the North Sea inlet south of Oslo, they run an Alcatraz style prison for delinquent boys, where some may be orphans, some have mental health issues, others may have been caught for petty crimes, or may just be poor, but boys from 8 to 18 languish on this penal colony for years paying a kind of eternal penitence, where getting lost in the system is an understatement, as their release depends upon the discretion of the sadistic Governor in charge, Stellan Skarsgård, who firmly believes hard work and a firm stick will somehow transform these unruly boys into model citizens.  His job is to mold them into compliant citizens that obey rules and follow orders.  The truthful severity of the brutal acts against children make this kind of film off limits to American filmmakers, as this honestly exposes a kind of monstrous inhumanity within Norway’s own history that’s missing in American films.  Some of the best remembered prison films are A MAN ESCAPED (1956), THE GREAT ESCAPE (1963), COOL HAND LUKE (1967), IF… (1968), ONE FLEW OVER THE CUCKOO’S NEST (1975), SHAWHANK REDEMPTION (1994), where each one raises the question of prisoner escape, seen by the other inmates as an act of heroics, yet not so the warden who must make an example to deter similar actions, resorting to ruthless measures if caught, making one think twice about ever doing it again.  Each of these movies suggests men can only endure so much torture and relentless oppression, resorting to wit and bravery to conjure up improbable acts of escape, but not so here, as someone instead irrationally refuses to escape when the door is left wide open, where this may have you on the edge of your seat.

Unraveling as a story within a story, where a young harpooner aboard a Moby Dick style whaling ship marvels at the endurance of a whale that has been shot 3 times, yet still manages to elude them throughout most of the day, a theme turned back upon the humans, as it is their own beastly behavior that takes centerstage in this film.  With the arrival of two new inmates, a burly young sailor Erling (Benjamin Helstad) immediately disrupts the balance of power by challenging the status quo, threatening escape almost immediately, which places the other boys in jeopardy, especially Olav (Trond Nilssen), who is given responsibility over his dormitory as he’s expecting his release soon, considered a model prisoner.  What’s especially interesting is the interplay between these two, as they are polar opposites with uniquely compelling viewpoints.  They immediately test one another with a kind of LORD OF THE FLIES (1963) psychological battle of wits, while at the same time the Governor is testing the rebellious nature of Erling, continually adding harsher work details which makes his workmates miserable, but he continually takes the brunt of it, routinely given added punishments where he’s mindlessly ordered to move a pile of rocks ten feet away into another pile, only to be instructed afterwards to move them all back again.  The viewer soon discovers the island is a child labor camp, where they perform farming and forestry work details, with society getting a special bonus out of their cheap labor.  Except for the leads, most of the kids are non-professionals, where with little dialogue the director subtly weaves into the fabric a sense of community from the boys point of view, as they’re all victims of the same inhumane living conditions, where what’s missing is the capacity to look out for one another.       

What’s especially effective is the gorgeous ‘Scope camerawork from John Andreas Andersen whose sweeping panoramas and wintry landscapes look brutally cold, where winter never looked harsher and more ominous, where these are boys, after all, continually punished and brutalized in the name of some utterly fictitious social good, the Governor’s goal of making them “honorable, humble, and useful Christian boys,” as if he could beat them into submission.  While the tense build up of the inevitable rebellion may be held back too long, as there’s little doubt the floodgates at some point will open, when they do it comes with a flurry, all precipitated by extreme abuse to the weakest among them, a boy violated by the housemaster, Kristoffer Joner, in a role reminiscent of Donald Sutherland’s sick portrayal of a fascist baby killer in Bertolucci’s 1900, especially when the peasants turn on him.  So it’s not heroics but abuse of power, a cowardly cover up, where contemptible lies are met with anger and disgust, which has an initial liberating effect, but a bit like Haneke’s FUNNY GAMES (1997), the initial wave of hope is crushed with even harsher and more barbaric methods, making things seem hopeless before a sea change of communal emotion comes swiftly crashing through the gates like a raging flood, an apocalyptic response to the torrent of sins heaped upon them.  The chaos that follows is just that, a sprawling, sweeping flow of events that comes to resemble the image of that wounded whale ferociously fighting for its last gasp of freedom.  Holst is at his best in the extremely personal finale, pitch perfect and beautifully staged, thrilling to watch, where he judiciously takes his time allowing events to play out, becoming a poetic reverie of innocence lost.  Shot mostly in Estonia, the music by Johan Soderqvist is especially captivating, offering a somber lament at exactly the right moment, adding a layer of quiet intimacy to a beautifully accomplished film.

The Man Who Fell to Earth

THE MAN WHO FELL TO EARTH              A                    

Great Britain  (139 mi)  1976  ‘Scope  d:  Nicolas Roeg

Adapted from a sci-fi novel by Walter Tevis, who just a few years earlier enjoyed success with his 1959 book The Hustler, which featured the iconic movie performances of Paul Newman and Jackie Gleason, which at its core embraces ultra realism, identifying with the alienation of a character who feels continually out of place, as if his life has been one wrong turn after another, while this 1964 novel exhibits a similar theme of perpetual alienation yet with a substantially different style, one that may refer to but does not accentuate the imaginings of space ships or life in outer space or other typical science fiction devices, choosing instead to examine the world as it existed at the time the story was written, but visualized more clearly through the eyes of a space visitor.  This is one of Nicolas Roeg’s most ambitious and more notable films as it perhaps best represents his working style and imagination, free from commercial interference, as there were fewer economic restrictions and more artistic freedom exhibited in films during the 70’s than exist today, especially sexual freedom, most likely due to the influx of foreign films of the late 60’s that featured nudity on American movie screens.  Perhaps most unusual is the highly complex sound design, a distinguished feature of WALKABOUT (1971), which becomes beautifully connected to the alien’s inner thoughts, where the carefully chosen music or use of film clips are brilliantly interwoven into the themes of the film.  The film is not overtly political, yet raises pertinent questions about the trappings of capitalism, which allows one nation to hoard the world’s resources while indulging in unabated and excessive consumption.  The depiction of government is excessively bleak, as it is portrayed as a secret underground operation, an unseen force that does its dirty work outside the parameters of public viewing, obsessed with protecting itself, even at the expense of public interest, as it can’t take the chance that things might turn out differently than what has been planned for and anticipated.  There’s an interesting parallel to the mafia, suggesting they are not like the mafia, as they are depicted as ordinary human beings who strive to raise their children like everyone else, supposedly a universal ideal, yet they carry out their enforcement business in much the same way, as they don’t allow for competing or alternative views, and take whatever action is necessary to guarantee their way prevails.

 The androgynous David Bowie plays the space visitor Thomas Newton who mysteriously lands on earth during the opening credits, carrying with him a collection of gold rings which he uses for start up money before contacting Oliver Farnsworth (Buck Henry), a patent lawyer, offering him highly advanced scientific ideas that don’t exist on earth yet, such as self developing film, eventually building a corporate empire together that makes him one of the richest men on earth.  His initial contact with the human race is a befuddling experience, as he haggles with a woman who could easily be one of the oldest humans on earth, where throughout the film his impressions of the world around him and the people in it keep changing, initially brimming with optimism and hope, beaming with youthful idealizations, eventually becoming more cynical and cryptic, as the world is not what it seems.  From a distance, earth is viewed as the water planet, as Newton’s own planet has nearly depleted its water supply, so Newton has left his wife and two children in search of bringing water back to his planet.   This isn’t known initially and is seen in an extremely eloquent dreamlike sequence to the haunting music from The Fantastiks, “Try to Remember.”  The incomparable Candy Clark, Toad’s (Charles Martin Smith’s) girlfriend in AMERICAN GRAFFITI (1973), who at the time was the director’s girlfriend, plays earthling Mary Lou (also Newton’s wife in his recurring planet reveries), the first to befriend Newton, using a motherly approach as he seems weak and fragile after his ordeal, keeping an eye on him, nursing him back to health, offering herself, her rambling conversation and her love of gin as his evening’s amusement, but he’s more obsessed with drinking water.  When she realizes he has corporate idealizations, she’s literally swept off her feet, as she’s a small town girl from New Mexico who’s seen the good side of life pass her by, so she latches onto him, continually keeping him company, even as she discovers he already has a family living elsewhere.  His continual longing for this faraway family adds a streak of pathos and sadness, where drinking alcohol seems to accentuate these visions of home, but Mary Lou is always seen at his side, building a home on the side of a lake which has a sense of peace and tranquility.

Newton also hires none other than Rip Torn as scientist Nathan Bryce, initially seen as the exact opposite kind of man as Newton, a wild, animalistic and lustful man with a taste for young teenage students when he was a professor at college.  When he hires Bryce to secretly begin work building a space ship, Bryce grows suspicious and wonders what lurks behind the mask of his strange new employer.  Bryce’s suspicions alert Newton to the kinds of human scrutiny he will eventually be subjected to, yet the full force of it is beyond even his highly evolved imagination.  The actual moment that Newton plans to exit the planet in his newly built space ship is seen in newsreel television style, filled with all the pandemonium an event like that would attract, with the entire world watching, where his identity has been kept as secret as possible, but begins to unravel at the moment of truth when after being betrayed by his own friends the government prevents him from taking off, literally kidnapping him, whisking him away in secret seclusion and plying him with plenty of alcohol to wile his troubles away, where at this point time seems to stop.  Everyone else ages and seems to forget Newton and his brazen ambitions, which have all been forgotten as if it was some kind of hoax perpetuated on the public, like some kind of stunt.  Newton however looks the same, never aging, but becomes consumed in alcoholism and despair, keeping his millions, yet having nowhere on earth, or outer space, where he can go, literally imprisoned for what appears to be decades.  In a nod to Kubrick’s deplorable corrective, criminal deprogramming therapy from A CLOCKWORK ORANGE (1971), or the malicious totalitarian control exhibited in ONE FLEW OVER THE CUCKOO’S NEST (1975) where individualism or free will is literally lobotomized in the interest of the State, scientists, in the name of advancing the public good, stick him and prod him like some kind of guinea pig, supposedly trying to get at the origin or source of just who and what he is, while actually performing some of the more dastardly and dehumanizing tests imaginable, showing little regard for the patient’s well being, continually probing him, all in the name of science.  In the book, they accidentally cause him to go blind, though the movie version is not quite as bleak, as instead it is his spirit and his will to live that is broken, where he is eventually released silently without a word, no longer of interest to the State, the public welfare, or even himself, just another broken heap tossed aside and left on the side of the road where he will no longer constitute a threat to society, a humbled man forever exiled from his world.