Review: Flyktdjur

Flyktdjur is a new indie film that I’ve had the chance to see in advance before its release. As is often the case with indie films, it seems to have a very limited release at independent cinemas. It is once again a shame that Filmstaden is too timid to dare to invest in niche films. I understand that the basic idea is to make money on as many sold seats as possible, but it goes somewhat against the love of cinema to not dare to champion the little guy. I like people who take risks and smaller productions, so it is with interest that I dive into this film.

I actually don’t really read up on the plot beforehand. I like to be surprised. But here is the premise: Karl and his girlfriend Nathalie’s relationship is put to the test when they participate in a silence retreat. For Karl, the possibility arises to confront sides of himself that he has long tried to keep at bay. During their stay, the atmosphere becomes increasingly oppressive and the line between fantasy and reality begins to blur. Karl is forced to confront both his past and his inability to get close to the people in his life. It is described in a press release as a powerful drama about how difficult it can be to understand others when you don’t really understand what’s going on inside yourself. What happens to our relationships with the people we love when we can’t face our own emotions?

The film is directed by Mikael Palm. This is his feature film debut, and I gather that after skipping a career in finance—which I understand, because as a creative soul that sounds almost soul-crushing—he moved on to directing theater and now film. He also wrote the screenplay together with Henrik Vikander and it appears to be the first screenplay they have both written for film, at least based on the info on imdb.com. Starring in the leading roles are David Fukamachi Regnfors (Gentlemen, Hjerson), Cia Bosse (Parterapi i Gagnef), and Sandra Redlaff (Innan vi dör). Appearing in smaller roles is Emilia Roosmann (Vi dör i natt), among others.

I’ll be honest right from the start: unfortunately, there is much that doesn’t work here. Part of the intention is to leave a lot to the viewer; there is very much in what is left unsaid—of which the silence retreat itself becomes a clear catalyst. The biggest problem is that there is simply far too much that is neither spoken nor shown. I get no sense for the characters or their motivations. I never really understand what is causing the friction in Karl and Nathalie’s relationship, but they apparently find—well, sort of—their way back to each other after the retreat. At least it opens the door to something. I also don’t get a real understanding of how they agreed that it should be held at the farm they are trying to run—it’s a small detail in itself, but it still adds to the pile of things that remain unexplained. I can appreciate that some parts of the dialogue feel mundane, but there is also a part that feels forced. You don’t really get an understanding of the characters, and that makes it hard to sympathize with them.

As an example of things that cause confusion, we meet a new character after the retreat is over. Karl runs off to meet her, and something in the hug and the way they interact makes me unable to understand who the person is supposed to be. Is it a sister or relative? They behave more as if there is something else beneath the surface—someone he has or has had an affair with—I start thinking of several other scenarios that I won’t reveal for fear of spoiling certain turns and one of the reasons for the friction in the relationship that is actually revealed early on. Here, I don’t know if it’s a conscious choice in both the script and direction to play with us viewers before the relationship between the characters—which also shifts very, very quickly—is revealed. Or is it that the confusion just arises in my brain as a result of direction and acting that makes something feel unnatural in the reactions? I don’t know, but it’s a somewhat recurring theme.

I haven’t been on a silent retreat myself, but I think it’s portrayed as almost cult-like—but then again, maybe that’s exactly how I would have experienced it, it wouldn’t surprise me. The acting overall oscillates between good and okay, even if the characters don’t quite come through. Fukamachi Regnfors, for example, isn’t given much space to showcase his talents in the lead role. He mostly walks around looking closed off.

Technically, it is also clearly noticeable that we are dealing with an indie production and perhaps many involved who are relatively new to their fields. It should also be added that I watched the film at home via a secure link and not in a cinema. A large screen can amplify a lot. The sound design is occasionally off and some sound effects end up slightly out of sync, which makes it feel unnatural. Likewise, some of the image composition and camera work feels a bit ill-considered and sloppy, and the lighting in certain scenes reinforces the feeling of an amateur production. There is nothing wrong with that in itself, but it is nonetheless something I cannot help but notice.

I keep returning to the thoughts written in the press release about understanding others when you don’t really understand what’s going on inside yourself, and what happens to our relationships with the people we love when we can’t face our own emotions? These are interesting lines of thought. It becomes even more interesting that I actually think the filmmakers here fail in their own intentions. I understand again that an underlying idea of the silent retreat is to convey without dialogue what is happening within people, but it doesn’t quite work. I like not having everything spelled out for me, but I would like to get a bit more understanding of the characters’ motivations and relationships, and here, in the end, there is far too much left unsaid. But. One thing truly deserves a real commendation—I like the unpredictable. And in a way, it works quite well at times. Because we are left outside the characters’ minds, I’m constantly wondering what is actually happening, what happened before we entered the film, and where we are headed. This means that I actually remain interested—and somewhat engaged—all the way through Flyktdjur despite all the friction and shortcomings.