Dir. Susanne Bier, Denmark, 2004, 110 mins, subtitles
Cast: Ulrich Thomsen, Connie Nielson, Nicolaj Lie Kaas
Review by Jean Lynch & Dave Smith
“It’s not a Dogme film!”
Director Susanne Bier is quite resolute on that fact. Her latest drama Brothers has, due perhaps to her previous acclaimed film Open Hearts , somehow been labelled with the tag that it is a Dogme film. Which is not a bad thing, except that this particular film does not follow the manifesto, an external soundtrack perhaps being the most obvious evidence of the fact.
What Brothers is, in fact, is perhaps the maturation of the Dogme disciplines: it utilises reality where it is appropriate for it to have the maximum impact. It is also one of the most moving, emotional and human pieces of filmmaking experienced for a long time.
The Brothers of the title are Michael (Ullrich Thomsen) and Jannik (Nikolaj Lie Kaas), two seemingly dissimilar siblings as you could meet, although their mutual love for each other is evident. The film opens with Michael, the respectable middle-class brother and apple of his father’s eye, collecting his wayward younger brother from prison, following a bungled raid.
Michael has it all: a beautiful wife, Sarah (Connie Nielson, in surprisingly her first Danish language role), two daughters, and a successful military career. The family enjoy a relatively carefree existence, the little rituals of life punctuating their existence, as exemplified by their kissing passionately in the bathroom whilst brushing their teeth.
However, that blissful existence is shattered when Michael is sent to Afghanistan on a US Peace Mission which goes quite graphically wrong. Missing, presumed dead, Michael’s family are forced to come to terms with his supposed death, their idyllic world imploding forever. Bier says that “war and terrorism can be a part of any family, but it was very apt for Denmark because of the amount of Danish troops who are involved in war zones.”
But Michael isn’t dead. He is held captive, along with another prisoner who lives in constant fear of death and not getting home to see his wife and newborn child. Michael takes on the paternal role, reassuring him that he will see his family again, but he has reckoned without his captives. Michael, with his technical expertise, proves useful to them – his comrade does not. In the pivotal scene of the film, Michael if forced to take a Hobson’s choice that will have far-reaching consequences. It is horrifying, devastating and incredibly inhumane and human at the same time.
Back home, Jannik has to rise above his father’s grief at the death of his ‘real, true’ son, and takes on a paternal role with Sarah and his nieces. The two find a common ground in their loss, and are drawn together but, despite their obvious growing attraction and one small indiscretionary but understandable kiss, Sarah and Jannik fight against their feelings. This proves fortunate when, having been rescued, Michael returns to their lives.
At first jubilant, Sarah soon realises that the man who has returned is not the same husband who left so long ago. Michael is unable to come to terms with the events of his capture and his guilt is turned upon his family.
The scene in which Michael finally gives in to his bottled torment owes, perhaps, the most to Bier’s Dogme influences. Shot with a hand-held camera, the explosive situation is dealt with painfully and realistically, and will strike a chord in too many a home. His jealousy turns on his brother and wife, a sublimation of his own guilt and anger at himself.
The film ends somewhat similarly to its start, demarcating the similarities between the two brothers – the fact that circumstances can affect even the most noble of people and that it is how we face and deal with those circumstances that sets us apart. However, the film has a redemptive feel in that Sarah still feels the love for her husband, that sense of the essence of the person he once was before events affected him.
Throughout the film, there is a sense that it is the little things in life that hold people and families together. The important moments are juxtaposed with the mundane, and it is not till later that we realise which is which. Many such discussions in this film take place around the table, with throwaway conversations leading to declarations of love, betrayal and all the words and emotions that have a huge impact on human life.
All Bier’s cast are outstanding, but special attention must be given to the two young actresses, Sarah Juel Werner and Rebecca Longstrup, who play the two daughters, and who serve a very pertinent role within the film. Both are at the centre of events when Michael gives in to his rage. “They were two exceptional actresses” says Bier. “I didn’t need to treat them any different to any of the adult actors. I was confident they wouldn’t be harmed by the subject matter of the film.”
The naturalness of the acting, the conversational, realistic moments, would lead one to suspect that improvisation was called upon. Not so, according to Bier, “things were added and taken out of the script as we went along, but it was just a case of sitting down with the actors and going through what they were going to do, and knowing what everyone was meant to do.”
Women directors are notoriously few and far between. Brothers is an outstanding and incredibly moving film which, despite the graphic moments of violence, or rather because of, is an extreme depiction of the inter-relationships that permeate our lives. It also, like life itself, has moments of the most endearing, familial humour.
Bier feels it is important to display both the serious and funny side of life. She says: ” Brothers has a political dimension, but it’s primarily a love story, a story about the conditions for love in modern life. The story deals with the feelings that emerge in the face of events. And for me the film is about showing feelings. That’s what film can do.”
With Brothers, Dogme 95 has come of age and heralds the arrival of an important director.
