My initial selection for Sweden was a film that hadn’t been distributed to the United States and was out of my reach. Well, almost out of my reach. I did find a website that would allow me to watch it, but the thing is you get to a certain point in this project where you have to contemplate how much of an advocate that you want to be for acts that others might find infringing to peoples’ copyrights. And let’s be honest even if I stay within the bounds of the law I live in an absurd world where some people might histrionically flip out over the notion that a person could watch a film on a website. Just think of the horror! I don’t want to reveal what this film is though because I’m holding out hope that someday I may be able to watch it and thus include it in future iterations of this series. Is this manner of thinking foolish? Probably. Trust me, there is a part of my brain that feels I should just resign myself to the notion that at the end of this project I will be left with a sizable list of films that I’ll never be able to watch. Be aware that there is a trace amount of self-flagellating torture involved when doing this.
The film that I actually did select though seemed interesting when reading the back cover of the DVD and I think it will offer a nice change of pace from what I’ve previously critiqued in this series. Different can be good. Magnolia Pictures acquired the US rights to Pella Kågerman and Hugo Lilja’s debut feature film and released it into theaters for about a month in May of 2019. Later that summer Magnolia released a DVD of the film and due to the recent nature of this release it’s still extremely accessible at libraries. According to worldcat.org there were copies being held at 7 public libraries within a 20 mile radius of where I live. Within a 40 mile radius there were 32 libraries holding a copy. Copies can also be purchased from a plethora of retail outlets. As for online streaming the film is available on Amazon Prime, YouTube, Google Play and Vudu among other possibilities.
Conceptually this may have been one of the more daring and idiosyncratic films that I’ve ever seen, even if the premise didn’t necessarily offer a great deal of entertainment value or intrigue. The narrative structure was peculiar in that it only had one true plot point which it revealed in a rather blunt fashion that undermined its massive relevance. After this moment there was no progression or climax to speak of. The story was generally slow, meandering and aimless. If fact some could argue that the story essentially ended not long after it begun and that for the majority of the film’s running time one witnessed an elongated final act where the passengers of the spaceship had to come to grips with their inescapable fate. In amongst this chaos was a short segment involving the detection of a mysterious, galactic ‘spear’ which offered the film a modicum of suspense and which perhaps allowed the viewer to contemplate a tangible way to bring the story to a close. Ultimately though this proved to be a mere illusion. Aniara displayed no apprehension in diverging from common narrative expectations.
The story itself however was very narrowly focused on the person who ran the ship’s virtual reality system. Due to this intense focus the character development was weak. One never learned much about the passengers abroad the vessel and generally they exhibited an innocuous, perfunctory presence in the film. Jennie Silfverhjelm in the role of Libidel was the only passenger who revealed the reason for why she wanted to travel to Mars in the first place and was the only one who seemed remarkably distraught by the consequences of the accident. She stood out so much from the other passengers on the ship that I wanted to see more characters from this same vein. Had the filmmakers done more to flesh out the rest of the supporting cast they could have done a better job of expressing the true scale of this tragedy.
The film’s dialogue on the other hand was actually well written to the point where it was incredibly thought-provoking in spite of the fatalistic and nihilistic undertones in the story. One of my favorite lines was delivered by the Captain when he reasoned that they had built their own little planet. With a strange application of logic one could argue that the fate of such people being forced to live on an object floating randomly through the vastness of space would be no different on Aniara than it would’ve been on Earth. Perhaps we are all floating aimlessly through the universe and it takes a story like this to highlight this often overlooked aspect of our existence. With the construction of this rather fascinating idea, the film tapped in to its potential to draw parallels between the people aboard the spaceship and the lives of common, real-life ‘earthlings’.
Thematically this was a very rich film. Ultimately what the people of Aniara had to do was to make a home out of a structure that was designed primarily as a utilitarian and transitory residence. Unfortunately though this notion never got developed. The ‘spear’ arc may have been the biggest reason why. This discovery only reinforced the notion that the passengers were misplaced in the universe and that they needed to be ‘rescued’. This segment also made the film incredibly somber and bittersweet given that it subtly expressed the notion that what could give people hope could also offer crippling despair.
Furthermore the personal focus in the narrative forced one to spend time with people who’d rather escape to a fantasy world of their own choosing once the reality of their existence had become too harsh and unforgiving. And of course it’s ironic that their idyllic visions consisted of imagery from a planet that they were willing, of their own volition, to part ways with. The characters in this film desired a static, past world of familiarity and serenity. They did not embrace the chaotic, near constant dynamism of the universe. The film also explored the complexities of finding meaning in the lengthy, largely inconsequential endgame of one’s life following an event of great significance. In such a scenario the film credibly conveyed how the mere act of survival could become progressively less triumphant over time.
Given the fact that much of the film was shot in a shopping mall (something for which the filmmakers did little to effectively conceal) one could even ponder thoughts about an ultramodern commercial realm that had grown detached from any earthly reality. Granted I suspect that the decision to film this in a shopping mall was done more for practical reasons than for greater thematic depth. In regards to how this film was shot I was not initially impressed with the camerawork, especially the framing which at times was too awkwardly tight. A good example of this was the strange close up of Captain Chefone’s face as he initially addressed the passengers. I also didn’t care much for the sequence of MR as she left the MIMA room following the accident. While the use of motion here did effectively convey a modest sense of chaos, the poor framing didn’t allow one to see what was specifically taking place. If anything I liked the deeper, more distant perspectives that the film used which were intriguing given its presence of negative space. In conjunction with the film’s narrative, this approach felt incredibly appropriate. There was something artful about the perspective of MR as she initially climbed the stairs to the MIMA gallery, as well as the numerous shots looking down into the main chamber. As the film progressed I found more favor with the overall cinematographic style, especially with its use of hypnotic, surrealistic montages that wonderfully complemented the escalating madness of the story. The muted, slo-mo sequence of MIMA’s destruction also worked towards this aim. The editing was excellent, with lingering shots of outer space, as seen from Isagel’s bedroom, giving shape to the unique horror that the characters had to confront. I also enjoyed the long continuous shot of MR cast in darkness after she had learned that there was no hope of rescue, which came across as symbolically resonant. The filmmakers also got the pacing of the film just right.
As for the acting credit has to be given to many of the performers for their excellent physical acting. The subtle nuances and facial expressions added great subtext to the story. Granted I wouldn’t necessarily state this about the extras that were used in the film, who too often failed to convey even a shred of humanity. This was most painfully evident in the comically robotic dance party sequence. Emelie Jonsson though, in the role of MR the lead administrator of MIMA, gave a good performance that saw her deftly handle the emotional complexity of the character. There was wonderful depth and personality in her expressive body language, even though early on I felt as if MR lived in a constant state of exasperation. Still her sheer look of terror when learning that the ship could not be turned around was quite striking and beautifully performed.
Another actress who nailed such a moment was Bianca Cruzeiro as Isagel, whose fearful look of pure terror during the crash sequence (one that really conveyed the severity of the situation) might get overlooked. While her performance early on was a bit cold and sterile, she effectively brought some warmth and humanity into the middle portion of the story. I also thought she did the best job of expressing the existential dread that hung over all of the characters. Much like Cruzeiro, Arvin Kananian as Captain Chefone was not particularly engaging, but the film still allowed him to inject small doses of humanity into the performance. It was interesting for example to see the nervousness of the character before he initially addressed the passengers. Here Kananian’s performance could be considered brilliant in a rather subtle way. I also liked the way he performed in the scene where MR casually mentioned the ship’s dark secret. The tension between the characters in this moment was palpable. Overall Kananian did a great job of portraying the calm and reserved manner that you would expect from a person of this profession. His performance as the captain of the vessel was very credible.
As for some of the other characters, Anneli Martini offered a nice contrast to the film as someone with a more irritable and contemptuous temperament. Martini also seemed more willing to convey the mental instability of an extended deep space voyage, which to me felt like an important part of the story. Peter Carlberg who played the ship’s engineer never actually appeared until the film’s latter half and yet still managed a rather commanding presence during the spear saga. Among the passengers I thought Jennie Silfverhjelm’s look of sheer shock and confusion when first being told that the trip would take 2 years was oddly captivating as was her crazed, hysterical fits of terror that followed this scene. In general her facial expressions were very vivid and so full of personality that they left a lasting impression. By contrast Emma Broomé as Chebeba was far more austere in her performance, but did display a great deal of energy and charm in the scene where her character finally lost her sanity.
Overall it was an unusual film that I felt got a lot of things correct. Although it was a film that clearly favored philosophical depth and emotional intensity over dramatic action, despite some trace amounts of the latter. Plus it often possessed a tone that was very bleak and depressing, which might be a deal breaker for some. But for me the philosophical depth was what made it work. Aniara offered a lot for me to think about and I can appreciate that in a film.