Fjord review – absolute trash

You could imagine the high priest of bureaucratic cynicism himself, Franz Kafka, watching this film about aChristian-Conservative couple being passed through the meat-grinder of the Norwegian Child Services system and saying, ​“No, sorry lads, it’s too much.” The usually very reliable Romanian New Wave lynchpin Cristian Mungiu returns with abig, beautiful bomb in the form of Fjord, afilm which appears to demonstrate that the usually-fastidious and astute filmmaker has waylaid his mojo and fashioned astory that is so hysterical about apparent top-down government oppression in the Scandinavian ruralities that it might play as the less-entertaining half of adouble bill with famed anti-weed PSA, Reefer Madness.

Mihai and Lisbet Gheorghiu (Sebastian Stan and Renate Reinsve) live ahappy, low-key life with their five kids (two teens, two tots and anewborn) on arocky outcrop on the Norwegian coast. He has decamped from Romania, she is of Norwegian heritage and they both ascribe to what seems to be alightly orthodox seam of Christianity, albeit one which counts numerous other worshipers within commuting distance. Both parents are on the same page when it comes to the rigours of how they chose to bring up their brood, with emphasis on work, prayer and contemplation, and deemphasis on most of the things teenagers would classify as fun. When behaviour slips, ashort, sharp slap on the butt is not out of the question.

When one of the kids’ gym teachers notices some bruises on eldest daughter Elia (Vanessa Ceban), the Child Services team are air-dropped in, and the best way to describe lead agent Gunda (Ellen Dorrit Petersen) is, think the Witchfinder General in ahighstreet pant suit. Rather than fudge the circumstances and keep audiences at arms length as to the truth about the Gheorghiu’s supposed transgressions, Mungiu instead wades into this lopsided moral maze by assuring us that our humble twosome haven’t really done anything deserving of the jail time that is eventually dangled over them. We’re really just here to see them suffer.

There’s precious little in this absurd film that can be taken seriously, from the strangely passive kids who, for reasons that are never clear, are not once given apedestal to set the record straight, to Gunda, who won’t be happy until she sees the Gheorghiu’s hang – ahardcore grudge that is given zero context or credibility. It’s the type of film where you imagine that Mungiu will lean on the, ​“well, Idid my research and that’s how it really is!” defence, but that means nothing when his film also forces you to hastily grade every single dramatic decision in it for even ascintilla of workable authenticity.

Stan and Reinsve deliver tamped back, emotionally-neutral performances in afilm that demands more fire, more outrage, more fucking basic parental dynamism. The storm you think they would kick up when they very suddenly have their five children snatched from their care is more like agentle spring shower. Like, do you even want your kids back? Meanwhile, there’s the utterly bizarre character of Noora (Henrikke Lund-Olsen) the neighbour’s needy daughter who develops afixation with Elia that is based on absolutely nothing. Watching this film, you’re left to wonder what Norway has done to Mungiu to prompt this wacky broadside, and whether he’ll be allowed back to the country to promote its release.