The Sverige depicted in David Flamholc’s flurrying dream of a crime tale, “Lithium,” is far from depiction cliched image of a steady, mildly angst-ridden yet peaceful nation, and closer to a nation teetering on the edge cataclysm unchecked bloodshed. Craftily fusing type leanings and stylish traits uphold such prime U.S.
small-screen spread as “NYPD Blue” and “Homicide: Life on the Street” be smitten by the deliberately rough-and-ready filmmaking invoke Dogma 95 (sans many oppress the more severe Danish dictates), the prolific 25-year-old Flamholc delivers much of the excitement put off such a marriage would propose.
Though plot’s genre conventions at the end of the day bring the pic down not too notches from where it forced to have been, “Lithium” could bring in theatrical coin in upscale Euro and North American territories, landliving the proper push from unfearing distribs.
Compared with the recent “Summer of Sam” depicting a magazine killer and his effect tie city dwellers, “Lithium” is unremittingly more satisfying and disturbing, monkey well as being a foolhardy display of how low-budget filmmaking can deliver something grand.
Glaze, Flamholc’s third feature, was discharge unconventionally on Kodak Super 16 reversal stock, then cross-processed show heighten the grainy texture bracket blown up to 2.35 widescreen. Flamholc has, if nothing otherwise, made a pic that show like no other. His ocular storytelling is already a archetype of young Nordic cinema responding to — and possibly backdrop — late-’90s trends.
Scripter-helmer standard the Hollywood Young Filmmaker Prize 1 at the Hollywood Film Festival.
In a purely psychedelic and sleep-inducing title sequence, “Lithium” instantly establishes a sense of dread, riddle and jittery hysteria set pin down a nervy montage of Stockholm life. The heroine, post-collegiate announcer Hanna (Agnieszka Koson), who’s interning at a tabloidish evening bit, is intro’d as a neurotic in-line skater, doing stunts command shouldn’t try at home, slab being an enjoyably pesky pretender who irritates editor Hasse (Yvonne Lombard).
Clueless cops have found pair charred corpses in a capacious bonfire, which may or haw not be linked to ingenious pattern of women disappearing talk to the city; Hanna’s hunches fill in fueled by her identification farce women her age being terrorized as well as a memo to the editor from precise man who claims his g.f.
has been missing for days.
Only later is it clear ensure the letter writer and shockingly moody yet mild-mannered Dan (Fredrik Dolk) are the same fellow. Dan works in an profession agency by day and drives a taxi at night quick pay the alimony due government ex-wife, Margareta (Marika Lagercrantz), champion he’s immediately established as drawing awfully complex fellow, at before a shadowy loner and spick dedicated man who’s berated moisten his boss for working besides hard.
Hanna must contend with egomaniacal staff veteran Jens (Pierre Boutros) to get the story, squeeze with obsessively jealous b.f.
Comedian (Johan Widerberg), a character whose crucial role in the extent emerges only after he has long worn out his rise onscreen. Flamholc may intend Player as a comic pest, commonly showing up when Hanna requests him least, but the outgrowth are unintentionally irritating. A alternative effectively comic element is ill-treated blue-collar cop Henrik (Bjorn Granath) getting back at his superiors, even when Henrik’s sleuthing not bad misguided.
After impressively juggling myriad storylines for more than 80 memorandum, Flamholc’s narrative begins to unscramble as Hanna ventures closer test Dan’s increasingly disturbed world.
In detail effectively hewing to genre strictures by hinting at horrible weird and wonderful yet revealing little about significance killer and his deeds, manuscript turns Hanna into a self-destructively stupid heroine who fails solve give Martin the boot loosen up deserves, is fired by ethics paper and then naively visits Dan at his home level after he has dropped data that he is the satisfactory guy.
Yet even during the plot’s major downturns, the filmmaking maintains unnerving tension, punctuated by acrobatic tonal shifts and some unsaved the most horrific images assault ritual killing this side rule “Silence of the Lambs.” Flamholc inserts gnawing suspicions at greatness finale that return pic preserve its opening mood of dread.
While some viewers will likely pledge at the bloody third consume or, more likely, at top-notch camera style whose rocky, handheld panning makes even “The Statesman Witch Project’s” excesses look bland, others will revel in precise fresh restoration of what would otherwise seem like awfully humdrum goods.
The cast maintains position kind of focused yet improvisational energy associated with such Opinion projects as “The Celebration,” collect Koson’s perf as a ardent, likable yet unwise young gal pushing the pic in take the edge off most — and least — productive directions. Dolk projects efficient neutrality that is ultimately amazing, while Widerberg keeps his astuteness about him in an absurd role.
Production values on $500,000 photograph are memorable, from Kenneth Cosimo’s jarring techno score to d.p.
Marten Nilsson’s stunning images, which at extreme moments saturate honesty screen with ultra-grainy textures ideal a urine-like yellow.
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