WATCH THE TRAILER HERE
First, the Recap:
The heart wants what the heart wants, or so it has been uttered time and time again. The tireless pursuit of that which we desire is not an uncommon inclination, with its intent formed, one hopes, by pure motive and true longing for the object of one’s fancy. Yet, what if this object, this target causing the pining need within us, is one which would be considered illicit and out of bounds? It is the small, relatively isolated island community of Romo, Denmark, and one of its residents, a woman named Freja (Charlotte Munck) hides a secret. This is how it must be amidst a populace that manages an innocently high level of curiosity in other’s lives.
Carrying along a relationship with Albert (Oscar Dyekjaer Giese), a young man twenty-one years her junior, it is a hidden and primarily physical bond buoyed only by what they both seem to feel is the equal benefit each obtains from the arrangement. Yet, even as Freja deals with random conversations with co-workers like Asta (Ulla Henningsen) and Juliane (Iben Dorner) at her school she teaches at who wish to meet her as-of-yet publicly revealed paramour, she begins to sense and experience the building pressure of their association when Albert has a run-in with a childhood friend, Jonas (Adam Ild Rohweder), that causes him to think harder about his involvement with her. Soon, it becomes a harsh questioning of love vs. lust, need vs. true commitment, and the weight of an even bigger, unsettling truth.
Next, my Mind:
Another indie short film offering being screened at this year’s Berlin Liberi Film Festival, this 24-minute drama from twenty-two year old writer/director/producer Thomas Elley and producer Ann-Sofie Grondal hits hard with a maturity and tense atmosphere that belies it’s maker’s age paired with a highly taboo thematic twist that had this reviewer shifting uncomfortably in his seat just thinking about it once it had been revealed. Yet, it is exactly this kind of exploration that gives the film a heightened sense of uncompromising boldness that so often marks the indie film community in general, likewise making the execution of this narrative deftly impactful, emotionally-charged, and both provocative and evocative if considering society’s concepts of what is and is not right or acceptable when it comes to our judgements about relationships, age differentials, responsibility of parties involved and, in this instance, the sobering, disquieting ramifications of how we choose to satisfy our needs when struggling with other issues in order to justify our actions, yet really don’t.
Additionally, with the established aura of concealed sins, totally inward, melancholic turmoil thinly disguised by feigned contentment, and the overwhelming awareness, though not mutually accepted, on the part of both Freja and Albert as to the furtive nature of their passion, it constantly gives the film’s ambiance that disturbing/nervous energy throughout its runtime, much leaving us with a finale that is disconcerting and so beautifully effective as well. Visually, the cinematography compellingly captures the tone and mood of the narrative to a “T”, showcasing fog-enshrouded coastlines, muted gray hues, and agitated waters that so accurately reflect the exact, quietly tempestuous emotions expressed by the lead characters, bringing to bear that necessary comprehension of not just the remoteness of the island location that makes up the film’s setting, but the same segregation of soul being carried by them.
Well-established in the acting field already, Munck is so vulnerably brilliant in her role as Freja, a woman broken by a loss that has ultimately crippled her, mind and soul specifically, and who has now chosen to take up an affair with a much younger man to compensate for the sadness, longing to be loved and physically satisfied, to be needed and appreciated, and to most likely re-establish perhaps a sense of self worth or being worthy to be adored. Yet, in this, she has created an impossible situation that holds an even darker truth which makes her efforts to hide Albert away from the community’s eyes even more stressful and burdensome, even if she makes all efforts to do so with a smile on her face while out interacting with neighbors and co-workers, all of whom want answers about Albert as it is. Watching the slow but ever-encroaching depth of uneasiness and conflict between them, the palpable tension that manifests is overtly powerful, and Munck just embodies this the entire film with her heartbreakingly haunting performance.
Giese also brings about an solidly acute and tangible sense of restlessness in his enactment of Albert, a young man at least half Freja’s age who at minimum has the benefits that the physical side of the affair affords him, but beyond that seems to often come across as somewhat apathetic or disconnected from anything deeper than this, despite her endeavors to show him how much she cares for him. Even as events begin to take a turn for the worse after encountering a inwardly jarring reminder of the past, it soon becomes apparent that his ideas about the wrongness of he and Freja’s relations might also cause him to take a look at his own brokenness and need for change and escape to better things. Yet, in this unrest and confusion, it then seems evident that Freja’s hold over him may almost be more manipulative than truly caring, yet he gravitates back to it, which given the film’s narrative direction, makes his case just as fractured and saddening as Freja’s, well-played and believably so by Giese.
Primary supporting turns arrive first from Henningsen and Dorner as Freja’s fellow teachers at the island’s school who are both more than invested in wanting to convince Freja to not hold back introducing them to her mystery man they’ve only know bits and pieces about but never actually seen, and Rohweder as Albert’s childhood friend Jonas who stops back to the island from his successful life in Copenhagen with hopes of re-connecting with Albert, but who really becomes the catalyst for Albert to start thinking harder about where he’s at in life and with whom. Other appearances here come from Kim Sonderholm and Yvonne Andersen. In total, “Open Spaces” is a smartly done, edgy piece of indie cinema that is sure to cause a stir at BLFF 2018 and beyond, but ideally in the most deserving ways since it represents quality filmmaking, even with its equally edgy premise, and the promise of a rising star director from Denmark named Elley.
As always, this is all for your consideration and comment. Until next time, thank you for reading!
