'A Royal Affair' is Better Than the Marketing

Far be it from me to criticise Metrodome Distribution. After all they are to be applauded (and loudly) for bringing one of my favourite films from this year's Berlin Film Festival to the UK, in the form of Danish monarchy drama 'A Royal Affair' ('En Kongelig Affære'). Yet their handling of it troubles me, at least in terms of how it's being marketed. I reviewed that film back in February on this blog and could hardly have been more fulsome in my praise, concluding:

Everything about 'A Royal Affair' is stunning. Its ambitious scope in terms of subject matter, its intelligence, its brilliant cast of actors (I'll now happily watch anything with Alicia Vikander in it), and its lavish production values. I cried at the end, with the once vital Caroline separated from her children and living in exile, and I laughed far more and far harder than I have at the last dozen or so comedies. The story of a doctor who gives a king new confidence and inspires him to greater things, it could easily be billed as Denmark's answer to 'The King's Speech'. It's far better than that.

Yet I'm not certain the trailer (above) or theatrical poster (below) would have sold it to me. There's nothing wrong with either from an editing or design point of view, in fact both are stylish and sophisticated. But therein lies part of the problem: they aim to attract the traditional "heritage" cinema or "costume drama" audience. "Utterly seductive... an epic story of forbidden love" runs a quote from Radio Times, whilst the central image plays up the idea that this is the tale of a love triangle in fancy dress. Yes, I see the angry mob in the background, with an ominous fiery orange glow enveloping the stars, but the overwhelming impression this poster gives is that this is the tale of how two men court the same woman. Were that the case I don't think I would have been so moved by it, nor as thoroughly entertained.



What's truly great about 'A Royal Affair' - aside from the stunning performances - is that it doesn't feel at all stuffy and period bound. In fact it feels modern and dynamic. And whilst period films tend to be conservative and usually play up a romanticised view of the past, this one is all about radical political philosophy: the ideals of the enlightenment versus the grip of the ruling class in eighteenth century Europe. This is the story of how a German radical basically exploited his friendship with the insane king of Denmark in order to institute a raft of audacious reforms which quickly (and, as fate would have it, temporarily) transformed one of Europe's most politically backward countries into its most progressive. And all before the French Revolution. If you can't find a way to make that sound exciting to an audience, let alone in the fractured Europe of 2012, you have no business selling movies.

Is the titular "royal affair" important? Well, yes of course; But it isn't what the film is about. In fact even the central love story - not really a "triangle", because the king doesn't really give a damn - is mainly explored in terms of how it compromises the idealism and integrity of Johan Struensee (Mads Mikkelsen). For instance, after the affair becomes a convenient stick for the German's political opponents to beat him with using the newly free press, Struensee is driven to enact new censorship laws in an effort to safeguard his own interests. It's about how power corrupts and how absolute power corrupts absolutely. It's about the canny knack of the media and the aristocracy to mobilise the poor against their own interests - a theme that resonates very strongly today. And it's being mis-sold willfully, because the people who made the poster know and understand all of this.

'A Royal Affair' is a young film being sold as an old one for an easy buck. The market for historical costume epics is tried and trusted, whereas the appeal of eighteenth-century-radicalism-morality-fables is far less certain. I understand completely where Metrodome are coming from and I hope this release proves incredibly lucrative for them, because this film deserves to find an audience (even if it's the wrong one). I suspect many of those coming to see it on the basis that it's a scintillating love story for the ages will still enjoy the less cosy film they see before them, but the sadness is that 'A Royal Affair' could be written off by many who would find great appeal in its musing on ideology and the nature of political power.

Perhaps the image on the poster is not at fault, but rather it's the pull-quotes around it which need changing. "Utterly seductive" should be replaced by "politically incendiary" and the word "revolution" should appear somewhere. And instead of "their love would divide a nation", how about "their friendship would divide Europe"? And the word "love" (which appears twice) should not appear at all. Not because there is not a love story, but because focusing on that relationship and ignoring the ideological debate is ironically the exact same thing the yellow press does within the film. There's no doubt the marketing department played it very safe with this one and I hope it doesn't work against one of the year's best films.

'A Royal Affair' is rated '15' by the BBFC and will be released in the UK on June 15th.

'Melancholia' review:

"Life is only on Earth and not for long" says Justine (Kirtsen Dunst) somewhere near the apocalyptic conclusion of Lars Von Trier's 'Melancholia'. Though much has been made of the film's superficial similarity to Terrence Malick's 'Tree of Life' - which also premièred at Cannes earlier this year and to more unanimous acclaim - this pessimistic musing on life, the universe and everything is as close as the films come to sharing theme. Malick conveys a reverence for life, whilst the Dane sees the stars as no more magical than the act of going to the toilet. Both may feature awe-inspiring CGI renderings of immense planetary bodies, but Von Trier's film is not about the grand religious concerns that defined Malick's; the director has long spoken of his struggle with depression and this, like 2009's 'Antichrist', is the cinematic product of that suffering.

An arch-provocateur with a, shall we say, dark sense of humour, Von Trier's claim to mental illness has been reported sceptically, with critics wary not to end up the butt of some obtuse, private joke. However, as someone who has long struggled with depression, I found 'Melancholia' to be a deeply affecting and well observed portrait of the condition - and as such it must rank as the filmmaker's most sincere work to date. Whilst 'Antichrist' was arguably a nihilistic, despairing outburst, 'Melancholia' is not merely depressing but about the experience of depression. With it Von Trier not only captures the feeling of being depressed but, crucially, captures the responses of others to a mental disorder that, like many others, is still not easily understood.



It'll no doubt test the patience of those unfamiliar with depression or lacking in empathy for someone with the condition. As Justine, Dunst is selfish, sulky, irrational, irresponsible and unfaithful - and all within the course her opulent wedding reception which takes up the opening chapter. Many will find her behaviour too frustrating to bear, though it's peerlessly well observed. As are the various reactions to it.

As her free-spirited, partying father, John Hurt avoids potentially depressing conversations with his daughter so as not to spoil his own mood, running away from his daughter at every turn. As the mother, Charlotte Rampling seemingly has her own problems with the illness: she has embraced a sort of hyper-rationalism that has robbed everything of joy and meaning, which is similar to Justine's own (literally) world-weary position later in the film. As her sister Claire, Charlotte Gainsbourg is condescending, unhelpfully terming Justine's lowest points as evidence of "causing a scene" and even expressing contempt for her. Meanwhile Claire's husband John, played by Kiefer Sutherland, thinks Justine is just a nuisance and potentially a destructive influence upon their young son Leo (Cameron Spurr).



Several characters seem to mistake Justine's mental state for an expression of want. Her well-meaning new husband (Alexander Skarsgård) buys her a plot of land where he claims the environment will make her happy. Claire and John believe the expensive wedding reception they have thrown her should raise more of a smile (John mentions more than once that his land hosts an 18 hole golf course). Her boss (Stellan Skarsgård) gifts her with a promotion during the occasion, but again this is not much of a boon. Here Von Trier's sharp sense of humour is in evidence as he satirises trite aspirations and our desperate attempts to give events meaning. Later Justine ridicules Claire's need for some sort of ceremony as the apocalypse nears, sarcastically suggesting they light candles and listen to classical music.

All of these interactions highlight popular, tragically Victorian misconceptions about mental illness: that it isn't illness at all but a failing of character or a sign of weakness. Justine's response is usually to find solitude, though she also takes comfort in the young Leo - presumably because he is not sitting in judgement of her. Justine's attempt at marriage doesn't survive the reception and, six months later, we find her no longer willing to fight this chronic sombreness and the film refocusses on Claire - now herself distraught by the threat posed by an oncoming planet.



It is not a spoiler to mention that the Earth is destroyed in 'Melancholia': it's an event that takes place (and quite majestically) at the very start of the film, with the human drama on the planet's surface played out as an extended flashback. The conceit here is that a hitherto unseen planet has come into view from its position behind our sun and is on a collision course with the Earth, though really this apocalypse forms part of an extended metaphor, emphasising the gloomy mental state of Justine and Claire. The planet serves as a great, oppressive weight pushing down on them throughout. The world outside Claire and John's impressive grounds is never seen and both attempts to leave (by horse and later by golf car) are halted by some unseen power, which I would suggest is representative of a depressive's tendency to sink into themselves and shun the outside world.

Von Trier has long been able to dazzle critics with his technique and 'Melancholia' is an immensely beautiful film, comprised of haunting and truly spectacular images from start to finish. Taken at face value the impending apocalypse plot is also dramatic and terrifying. But more significantly, what we have here is his most candid and revealing film. It's thought-provoking, personal, earnest and far less oblique than some of his previous work. It's a shame this movie has been overshadowed by those ill-advised and misjudged attempts at humour during that infamous press conference earlier this year that saw Cannes declare him "persona non grata". The Danish director occasionally seems to be his own worst enemy and 'Melancholia' leaves me in no doubt at all why that is. I haven't been able to get the film out of my head in the days since I saw it, making it easily the most powerful film of the year so far.

'Melancholia' is rated '15' by the BBFC and is out now in the UK.

'In a Better World' review:

During Danish Oscar winner 'In a Better World', a child decides to put a violent, school yard bully firmly in his place by beating him senseless with a bicycle pump and then holding a knife to his throat. Now that I see that written here in black and white, it sounds more than slightly sick to say I outwardly cheered with delight at this moment. I'm not even a fan of screen violence but, as someone who was bullied at school, I experience a visceral, instinctive hatred of bullying when I see it on a cinema screen.

Now, if this were, say, a Tarantino film or a vigilante movie like 'Kick-Ass' I would probably be encouraged to allow the violence to take on this disturbing therapeutic quality. Yet the journey the bereaved and angry young Christian (William Jøhnk Nielsen) subsequently goes on - building pipe bombs in his garage as his response to perceived social injustices becomes increasingly violent - is one that ensures this first act is robbed of any trace of glamour or anti-heroism that it might have otherwise had.



Director Susanne Bier, best known for 2004 drama 'Brothers' (re-made in the US with Natalie Portman), has made a rare and complex film about the nature of conflict and violence, which uses its characters to explore a range of ways people justify violent acts and the way that violence becomes a perpetuated cycle. The link isn't explicitly made but, just as an example, Bier's film is as much about the situation in Palestine (or even that of the recent "rioters" versus the UK government) as it is about individuals and this small cast of characters.

Christian lost his mother to cancer and is filled with rage, accusing his father, Claus (Ulrich Thomsen), of giving up and wanting her to die. He identifies bullies as targets he can actually fight, probably so he doesn't have to keep feeling so helpless. His meek, gentle Swedish friend Elias (Markus Rygaard) goes along for the ride chiefly because he has been included - because he wants to please his new friend and because he now belongs to a small social enclave where previously he was an outcast.



Elias' status as an outsider comes from his being foreign: the son of a Swedish immigrant to Denmark - and it is this that arbitrarily motivates the school bully to pick on him. Here we see an example of violence against those who are different and the way a sort of tribal mentality can take hold (in every case violence is a feeble outward expression of some interior inadequacy). His Swedish father, Anton (Mikael Persbrandt), is a doctor who works in a Sudanese refugee camp. He (literally) turns the other cheek when attacked, advising both children to do likewise, but ultimately his principles are tested when a local war lord comes to the camp asking for treatment.

Somewhere a line is drawn in the sand, the suggestion being that we all have our limits: a personal boundary past which acts of violence and revenge become acceptable. For Anton it is the war lord's shameless gloating about acts of sexualised violence that sends him over the edge, though even then the momentary decision to abandon his most deeply held moral principle - that a doctor should treat those in need regardless of who they are - comes with a certain degree of trauma and regret.



It takes much less for the boys to call Anton's code into question. When an angry mechanic (Kim Bodnia) slaps the doctor for trying to break up a fight involving their sons, the children aren't convinced his pacifist approach is working. Elias later calls his father a "wimp" for walking away from conflict and, when Anton claims the guy lost the argument because he couldn't intimate using violence, Christian responds "I don't think he thought he lost."

Here is an expression of another disquieting yet commonly held truth: that one's own conviction in a moral code is not enough. The children here express a need to win and win unambiguously in public. A need to get the better of one who has wronged them, which is pointless and counter-productive - for society at least, even if the individual might find some satisfaction. 'In a Better World' is a powerful rebuttal to Old Testament "eye for an eye" logic even if it also seems resigned to its inescapable place in our collective psyche.



It's beautifully photographed and the human drama here is compelling and well acted, with the child actors especially strong, but the film is best taken more generally as a polemic. By having the central characters a mix of Danish and Swedish - and by making Anton spend much of the film dealing with similar ethical concerns (admittedly on a much more harrowing scale) in Africa - Bier highlights that this is a universal story. That she tells this larger human story without the sort of self-importance and contrived narrative histrionics common to Guillermo Arriaga films makes it all the more rewarding.

'In a Better World' is out now in the UK and rated '12A' by the BBFC.