You the
living (Du Levande)
This is a thematic rather than plot-driven film consisting of
a sequence of short scenes similar in style to a TV sketch show. A great deal of the situations reenacted
have something to say about the sense of unhappiness that afflicts each one of us from time to time.
The scenes are typically filmed by
a single stationary camera, and the actors generally move
slowly, if at all, within this frame. Some characters appear in a number of vignettes, and
other linkages also occur, for example when two parties to a disagreement recount
their interpretation of the disagreement in separate vignettes. Many of the scenes are situated in
nondescript late 20th century office and appartment blocks whose interiors
are decorated in neutral tones. Many of the characters are similarly
unremarkable in appearance, and we could almost say that the "typical" character
is a bald, thickset or thin, office drone, dressed in a grey
or beige trenchcoat, and carrying an outdated attache case.
On balance, this is not a carefree, opulent world, where
people go waterskiing or golfing at weekends, but rather a gelatinous decrepit world,
where downtrodden individuals gather in shabby bars and scratch in their
pockets for a few coins to buy a drink when the barman calls last orders. The reasons for the characters'
unhappiness varies widely, ranging from deep-
seated ennui (see the disillusioned psyschologist tired of the task of
dealing with people coming to him in search of solutions to life's problems) to the transitory
yearning of a young female music fan with a crush on, to borrow her mantra, “Micke Larsson, lead guitarist
of the Black Devils”. We sometimes learn of these reasons from the characters
themselves when they deliver their gloomy monologues to
camera. At other times, their reasons for unhappiness are elucidated
in a dialogue played out onscreen.
Music, pursued as
a hobby, features in many scenes, with – apart from a memorable electric guitar
solo – bass drums and tubas the most commonly recurring instruments.
One of the central story threads involves a “Lousiana Brass Band”, and in a number of scenes
we see individual band-members practicing (sometimes
to the objection of their neighbouring appartment dwellers), as well as a group
practice and an actual marching performance. Music also
features incidentally to the onscreen action, and a recurring musical motif (sounds
like Air on the G string), is heard in muted tones in several
vignettes. Libretti also feature on one occasion
when, in one of the film's opening scenes, an unhappy biker chick delivers her
lines in verse form with musical accompaniment.
An open question raised implicitly by the film
is whether the film's themes have a particular significance for those living in Nordic countries. Personally I find that kind of speculation
problematic. However, audiences of many cultures will undoubtedly be encouraged by the film to "live in the present".
The opening scene introduces an apparent non-sequitur, but this is later resolved in the effective and unexpected final scene, whose
images justify such an interpretation.