Call Girl

CALL GIRL           C  
Sweden  Ireland  Norway  Finland  (140 mi)  2012  d:  Mikael Marcimain

While there could be an engrossing story here, sexual intrigue stripped from the headlines, inspired by a real-life scandal in the 1970’s when a madam named Doris Hopp was convicted of running a prostitution ring servicing clients in the highest levels of the Swedish government, but this rather uninspiring, conventionally made thriller is not the one to do it.  Apparently first-time feature director Mikael Marcimain has spent his career making Swedish television mini-series, which is exactly what this film resembles in every respect, where every artistic choice has been compromised.  Instead of the bombshell journalistic exposé it pretends to be, it’s little more than a rehashing of unproven allegations, making little distinction between what’s real and alleged, becoming a tepid, overlong, though often sexually explicit, television drama.  Outside of the vice detective John Sandberg (Simon J. Berger), a surveillance expert whose dogged pursuit was continually sabotaged by the higher-ups within his own police department who were aiding and abetting by providing a buffer or safe zone for political heavyweights, the rest of the casting choices are all questionable, including Pernilla August as the deviously manipulating madam.  If she had just played a behind-the-scenes, hard-nosed business entrepreneur, her savvy smarts would have been perfect for the role, but her less than flattering naked appearances as a sexually alluring object of desire were sadly misguided.  Television is the optimum medium through which political views are continuously expressed, where there’s a constant dialogue taking place with the Swedish public about liberalizing sex crimes, including flowery speeches by incumbent Prime Minister Olof Palme, one of a continuing line of forty years of unbroken rule by the same party, and also his opponent Thorbjörn Fälldin in the upcoming election.  A blatant theme of sexual permissiveness runs throughout the film, so holier than thou and morally reprimanding that in hindsight it has a scolding “I told you so” quality about it.  Deeply submerged to the point of omission is the fact that at the time of the scandal, prostitution in Sweden was legal, where the the underlying political concern wasn’t sex per se, but politicians openly sharing security secrets with the same prostitutes that also serviced foreign embassies.

Set in Stockholm in 1976, the narration unfolds using a two-tiered approach, a secret surveillance operation conducted by a mousy Sandberg that eventually infiltrates the corridors of political power, and two 14-year old girls, Iris Dahl (Sofia Karemyr) and her cousin Sonja (Josefin Asplund), where much of the film is seen through the vantage point of Iris’s youthful rebellion, including her intoxicating allure into such a profitable business operation, as well as the often life-threatening difficulty getting out.  Disowned by her own mother after her seventh runaway, she’s handed over to the welfare division that places her in a youth home run with the naïve belief that all these kids need is a good hug.  Something of a snot-nosed kid, arrogant and deeply unappreciative, she ignores every rule set out for her, but what’s not immediately clear is why she doesn’t run away again, as there’s no real incentive to stay there, lingering far too long in this early segment where it’s clear Karemyr is a pretty girl but a clueless actress.  Things perk up once her cousin joins her, but she’s an even worse actress, where the two sneak out together nearly every night.  Following the lead of two other girls from the group home, they get involved in the sex business, where initially it just involves dancing topless, plied with all the alcohol they can drink, something they find silly and amusing.  August plays Dagmar Glans, who along with her protective muscle Glenn (Sven Nordin) monopolize the high end sex trade, taking a particular liking to Iris, quickly spoiling her with compliments, earning her trust, as Iris becomes one of her most favored clients, largely due to her underage status.  A rift inevitably develops between the two girls, as Iris is the golden girl, treated like royalty by Glans, where money just flows into their hands, more than they know what to do with, leaving Sonja a bit jealous, with a growing disinterest in the demeaning sexualization of the trade.  When Iris mentions an interest in both of them getting out, Glans immediately sets her straight with a quick slap in the mouth, hinting that the last girl who made similar suggestions accidentally fell off a Finnish ferry and drowned.  Instead Glans just sends her on more exclusive assignments where Iris is the talk of the town, expressed in a neverending dream-like orgy of drugs, sex, alcohol, and choice disco sounds from Abba to the BeeGees and George McCrae - Rock Your Baby - YouTube (6:01).

The police procedural aspect of the film is far more muddied and easily the most disappointing aspect of the film, despite the efforts of Berger who really nails his role as the persistently hounding, eavesdropping ear to Glans’s phone calls, taking surreptitious photos of her clients, and the only man in the film who has a clear idea of his investigation’s impact, as it’s the kind of scandal that would bring down a government, linking underage girls to the Justice Minister, a Finnish ambassador, and two Prime Ministers, including Olof Palme (murdered in 1986), whose family sued the filmmaker for “gross defamation of character,” charges that were subsequently dropped by the current Justice Minister.  While Marcimain paints the political moral hypocrisy with broad strokes, he is remiss in providing facts, incriminating details, and linking evidence, and instead stains the entire era as one of outward decadence and perverse overindulgence, where the film only goes so far as to suggest this version of events “may” have happened.  While Marietta von Hausswolff von Baumgarten's script is clearly slanted towards the viewpoints of the young girls, their version of events has never been proven, only insinuated, which makes much of this material feel exploitive.  Marcimain only worsens the efforts with an overly loud and aggressive music score, the kind heard in exploitation films.  It’s not surprising that Sandberg comes across as the only sympathetic adult, one of the few fully developed characters, as he’s the only one fighting against the corrupt conspiracy of power that continually hides behind a shield of mafia tactics by destroying evidence and murdering potential witnesses, never prosecuting anyone except Glans, an easy target since they have her on tape.  The rest of the entire field of politicians are merely cardboard cutouts, one indistinguishable from the next, deadening the interest and overall impact, which comes to a giant thud at the end.  Instead of the great American paranoid political conspiracy thrillers of the 70’s which this attempts to emulate, like Alan J. Pakula’s KLUTE (1971) and THE PARALLAX VIEW (1974) or Roman Polanski’s CHINATOWN (1974), all of which escalate the dramatic tension building towards a momentous event, this film lacks the intelligence and sophisticated nuance and simply fizzles out at the end, a major disappointment and let down, suggesting perhaps they might have approached this from a different angle, as all the intrigue and suspense simply evaporates into thin air. 

The Last Sentence (Dom över död man)

THE LAST SENTENCE (Dom över död man)      B                 

Sweden  Norway  (120 mi)  2012  d:  Jan Troell

Cattle die, kinsmen die,
one day you die yourself;
I know one thing that never dies --
the dead man's reputation.

—Dom över död man, a quotation (Verse 77) from the Old Norse poem Hávamál

Jan Troell began his career in the early 60’s working as the cinematographer for Swedish director Bo Widerberg, both from the working class town of Malmö, where he’s always been known as an exceedingly well-prepared director, a man who thoroughly does his homework.  In the last stage of his life, he seems determined to tell historical dramas, where he’s particularly concerned with Sweden’s place in history.  In this film, Troell not only directs, but collaborates with Mischa Gavrjusiov on the black and white cinematography (the first Troell film *not* shot on film), with Ulrika Rang on the editing, and with novelist Klaus Rifbierg in adapting Kenne Fant’s 2007 biography of Torgny Segerstedt.  It’s clear that Troell wanted to exert complete creative control over every aspect of this picture, which in many ways bears an autobiographical similarity in his own life, as both discovered inspiration late in life, where they seem to be struggling against their own mortality.  Segerstedt was a religious scholar who went on to become publicist and editor-in-chief of the Gothenburg daily newspaper, drawing inspiration in his scathing exposé’s of Hitler and the Nazi’s in the 1930’s, though in this film version he’s the nation’s leading editorial columnist, literally the voice of the nation (which was officially neutral) in condemning Hitler and the threat of fascism long before the rest of the world had the nerve to do so, as no one wished to provoke Hitler into war.  Originally considering iconic Swedish actor Max von Sydow for the role, Troell chose Danish actor Jesper Christensen to play Segerstedt, the camerashop owner in EVERLASTING MOMENTS (2008), where there was some worry his accent wouldn’t be sufficiently Swedish, but apparently he alleviated all those concerns.  In the film, the newspaper publisher is Axel Forssman (Björn Granath), whose Jewish wife Maja (Pernilla August) is Segerstedt’s most ardent supporter, blatantly playing the role of his lover in front of his Norweigan wife Puste (Ulla Skoog), who is unceremoniously relegated to second class status, even in front of the family children, creating something of a scandal.  Of note, the director’s own daughter, Johanna Troell, plays Segerstedt’s devoted daughter Ingrid, who in real life became a journalist and politician, living to the age of 98, and was actually interviewed by Troell for this film before her death.   

Perhaps most interestingly, Troell continually makes WILD STRAWBERRIES (1957) references throughout the film, where Segerstedt continually speaks to the ghost of his dead mother (Hanna Holmqvist), often reflecting back to some earlier memory, where making a valiant struggle against aging seems to be part of the theme, as Segerstedt was largely bored and at an impasse as a journalist until he started his attacks on Hitler, calling him “an insult,” which literally revitalized his life and gave him a purpose for living.  The film is divided into two sections, personal life and professional career, where his marriage with Puste was something of a disaster, where she put on a good public face about it but was deeply hurt.  Forssman, on the other hand, seemed resigned to the fact his wife loved Segerstedt, so willingly accepted it in every respect, especially since she continued to live with her husband, as Segerstedt (like Hitler) had a particular fondness for dogs, especially big dogs, a white bulldog, a black lab, and a Great Dane, which he kept near his side always.  Perhaps both men found it easier to express feelings towards animals than they could to the human race.  While Segerstedt is the star, a constant intellectual force, and is in nearly every frame of the movie, except for the actual newsreel footage of Nazi’s on the march, easily the most humanizing aspect of the film is Pernilla August, who is simply a revelation onscreen, an iconic presence ever since her early appearance in Bergman’s FANNY AND ALEXANDER (1982), though she cruelly uses her power at the newspaper and in high society to undermine Puste, often embarrassing her in public at every opportunity up until her untimely suicide, though she remains the love of Segerstedt’s life and his most devoted confidante until her own health fails, at which point he takes up with his secretary Estrid (Birte Heribertson).  The returned ghosts of his lost loves, like Scrooge’s ghosts of Christmas past and present, have an amusing aspect, as he’s more openly revealing to the dead than to anyone else.

Segerstedt is viewed as a man who lived by his convictions, whose moral courage in the face of the scourge of Nazism is exemplary, especially as he started lampooning the entire leadership of the top Nazi officials long before the rest of the world saw Hitler as a threat, predicting he would lead the world into a prolonged war, and one he would not live to see the end of, as he died a month before Hitler.  Segerstedt as a journalist could see what the nation’s politicians couldn’t, that silence was in fact collaboration, as they were too easily fooled or scared into complicity, fearing German reprisals, as Hitler invaded both Norway and Denmark early on, but spared Sweden largely due to the appearance of neutrality.  For this reason, both the Prime Minister and the King of Sweden attempted to suppress his columns, actually succeeding to silence him on occasion, where he would instead print a blank column, with his byline and everything else intact, but the actual words missing, a clever tactic which in its silence kept his readers informed. Segerstedt is seen as part of the aristocratic class, often seen sipping champagne at luxurious dinner affairs, where his open marital affairs seem self-serving and arrogant, showing little sensitivity to others, becoming a pain in the neck in more ways than one, where he seems a natural born irritant.  Troell is an old-fashioned film director, a contemporary of Bergman, sharing much of the religious austerity, but without the flash and the novel invention of Bergman, both of whom use many of the nation’s best theatrical actors.  The film is slow going and can grow tedious, especially with the repetitive use of many of the same classical music themes, which are meant to be leitmotifs but are simply repetitive, making this film feel longer.  Nonetheless, bringing the historical information to the foreground is always instructive and educational, suggesting many heroes may not be the best judge of companionship, but their refusal to capitulate to belligerent and bullying neighbors shows courage and astute judgment. 

Beyond (Svinalängorna)

Pernilla August on the set with Noomi Repace and her husband Ola

Pernilla August with her two shining stars

BEYOND (Svinalängorna)    B+                      

Sweden  (99 mi)  2010  d:  Pernilla August

A wrenchingly dramatic take on family dysfunction and death and dying, as expressed by Bergman actress, now first time feature filmmaker Pernilla August, in what might be a variation on the FANNY AND ALEXANDER (1982) story had their parents been trailer trash alcoholics.  A two-tiered story that slowly unleashes unpleasant truths about a woman’s miserable childhood, where Leena (Noomi Rapace) becomes consumed by her past, something she’s spent her entire life trying to forget, literally forced to relive various flashback moments from her traumatized past after she receives a call that her dying mother may only have a few hours left to live.  Despite the fact she’s had no contact in years, her two children are surprised to hear about a grandmother they never knew existed, so at the urging of her husband, Rapace’s real life husband Ola, they make an obligatory family visit.  While this plays out, a parallel story unearths the horrible tragedy that spells out Leena’s unfortunate childhood when she was forced to witness a continuous series of brutal beatings of her mother (Outii Mäenpää) by her abusive father (Ville Virtanen), both Finnish immigrants forced to take the lowest paying positions to survive, continually ending up drunk, making life miserable for young Leena (Tehilla Blad) and her even more troubled younger brother Sakari (Junior Blad), both of whom must find a way to survive.  Interestingly, Blad and Junior’s sister Alpha plays one of Leena’s two daughters, while one of August’s own daughters provides the inner narration of Leena making entries into her diary, which offer some of the most insightful personal observations in the film.     

Adapting a Susanna Alakoski novel, August’s film is a master class of dramatic acting performances all around, nominated as Sweden’s Best Foreign Film, where despite the big names in Swedish and Finnish theater, Tehilla Blad steals the show, providing a heartbreaking performance, where her lone determination to succeed and save her family is otherworldly, showing wisdom beyond her years, even if it ends in utter disaster, something she can never forgive herself for.  Rapace was the traumatized child survivor in the Millenium Trilogy (2009), another vulnerable character shrouded in secrets that operates with utmost conviction, offering another blisteringly intense performance.  Beginning with early optimism from their initial move into the housing project, seen as an upgrade from their tinier residence, everyone’s initially on their best behavior until slipping back into the devastating blur of events of soon forgotten memories, though you’d have to be drunk to forget, otherwise imprinted into the shell-shocked lives of two young kids who deserve better, where it gets so bad Sakari stops eating and speaking.  In one sequence, young Leena lists in her diary all the profane and horrible names her father calls her mother in the heat of anger, where this sequence of vivid reminders of a man’s contemptuous and vile view of women is hard to forget, especially at an impressionistic young age, where living with these hellish parents is equivalent to serving in combat.    

As Leena reluctantly comes out of her adult shell, nudged by her husband and family, it’s scandalous what she’s been keeping locked up inside for so many years, but perhaps only because she remembers it so well, as her fiercely deterministic attitude to overcome it as a child is met with the force of physical brutality and emotional indifference, where her mother would continually forget just how bad things really were.  Outii Mäenpää is no great prize as a mother, but she’s a force to be reckoned with onscreen, where her conflicting emotions are continually ripped into smithereens, leaving her available as a battering ram for her Neanderthal brute of a husband.  Yet near death, she recollects these years fondly, still clueless what any of this really meant to her children, thinking only of herself, the devoted wife who yearns for that man, wishing to be close to him even in death.  This is a mercilessly punishing work, where the seeds of wrath have lifelong ramifications that remain hidden, out of sight, where women have bore the brunt of this kind of savage marital treatment for centuries on end.  Yet while it was happening, in the midst of this nightmarish fiasco, young Leena is continually adding poetic reflections into her diary, observing the world around her with a keen sense of intelligence and sisterly obligation, as if it’s her responsibility to clean up her family’s embarrassing disasters, one day following the next, where it always falls upon her young shoulders, where she must somehow find a way to make things all right.  Off course it’s never enough, as people with this degree of damage and self loathing would never listen anyway.  While this may be too graphically raw and bleak for some, in this searingly graphic portrayal August takes us into the heart of domestic violence, a turbulent hurricane of destruction that wreaks havoc on anything it touches, laying waste to human lives, who in the end are only so much collateral damage.