Play - Nur ein Spiel

Ruben Østlund is one of these filmmakers who make timeless films. Play is one of these, a film from 2011. More current than when it was made. Østlund depicts a parallel society with children and young people. Here, the strongest right applies, and an eerie world is depicted. And around various forms of abuse of power and coercion, there are no adults who are capable of intervening. Does this sound familiar considering all the unrest in Sweden and other European countries today? With gangs and young criminals who commit serious crimes. This kind of thing starts somewhere, as this film depicts. As one of the very few, Østlund also dares to address integration and what can happen when it is not successful. Frighteningly good this one.

A goodwill idea and important film to make, and it did stir up a debate in Sweden, but still I can't help bring annoyed by the way the film. It's well played by the kids portraying both the bullies and the bullied and robbed, and you can't help getting touched by some of the scenes. This is based upon a true event, and we clearly can see the technical the bully's make. This is not the first time they've done this.

Still the problem I've got with the film is it's documentary style. It's a bit too full of art and feelings. It takes the focus off the topic too often, and makes the film boring. When we want to know what happens next, we get to see things which probably is correct in time-line, but still becomes uninteresting in the narration. The director is filming this as too much of "a fly on the wall".

This film won the Nordic Council film prize, but is by far the worst film nominated. The prize should have gone to "Kompani Orheim" or "A royal affair", which I both rated a 9. If you like a slow film about this topic, You'll probably be more satisfied. The slowness resembles the one in Gus van Sants "Elephant" which also is a better movie.

"Sweden!" cried out President Donald Trump some time ago. 'Just look at what has happened in Sweden!' he seemed to proclaim again. But what did he mean? "Play" is the title of a devilish Ruben Östlund film; a strange amalgamation of "La Haine" and "Funny Games" which combines cinema vérité with psychological horror and social commentary. What social commentary, it seems, is left up to the viewer: audiences have appeared to whittle it down to one of two (but it could be both) things: class and ethnicity, with Swedish politicians even finding time to chip in to make thoughts known - do remarks by socialists expunge the film from charges of racism when they proclaim it is about class? Or is "Play" so clever, that they have entirely missed the fact it is a damning critic of multiculturalism.

The film opens in a shopping centre with a disagreement between two Swedish boys over an amount of money one of them has dropped and lost. "500 Krona!?" one of them exclaims - 'it's nothing', replies the other. Across the way, however, a gang of black youths who are mostly their age are eyeing them up in order to essentially mug them. Within the first scene, Östlund wants us to realise this is a society characterised by differences in income and racial disparity.

Elsewhere in the film is the lament that authority has disappeared from Swedish society: bus conductors; mall security guards and shop assistants are either powerless to giving louts a good whack or vacant altogether, save for nearer the very end where they exasperatingly appear at just the wrong moment to punish the wrong people. The film enjoys its static camera-work and neo-realistic settings, wherein dozens of people wander around the public domain, but what seems to have been deliberately kept of screen above all else is the presence of a policeman.

Where this seems to lead, or will eventually lead, is an increase in vigilantism - parents and friends of those already victim to spates of crime taking matters into their own hands and administering their own forms of justice in the absence of a state enforcing the law: not unlike various London communities forced into defending themselves form the hordes in 2011, or other groups trying to do something about paedophile gangs operating under the radar in northern England. There are two instances of this in "Play", one closing the film which doubly encompasses Sweden's apparent ignorance to what is going on amongst its young that someone is labelled a racist for trying to obtain justice.

"Play" depicts a couple of hours in the life of three boys in the city of Gothenburg and its outskirts on a grey winter's day - they are Sebastian; Alex and John, although John is of Chinese ethnicity. Whatever the problem with immigration, or immigrant crime waves specifically, John has at least seemingly integrated. When we first encounter them, they are at the offices where one of their mothers works - an upscale law firm (we can read "Adact" on the wall) whose employees dress impeccably. Östlund loiters on the entrance of the office for a while after everyone has departed, almost pointlessly, until a staffer reveals the practice to be so bourgeois that they wipe clean a glass door that was already in perfect condition.

Sebastian et al. traverse to the local shopping mall, where the earlier group of black youths are still messing around having failed to lull the twosome from the opening scene into what will transpire to be a psychologically sadistic game of bullying and robbery. The two groups first come into contact in a sports shop, where Östlund quite brilliantly keeps the coloured gang off-screen as they holler and whoop while we focus on our increasingly anxious protagonists. By the time they have been followed outside and onto the tram home, it is evident something is wrong, and from there transpires the rest of the harrowing tale.

The film's beating heart, the idea that bullies belonging to a minority string defenceless white Swedish kids along to mug them, I read is based on a spate of actual incidences of this happening over a three year period. Meanwhile, adults are too ditzy worrying about broken porcelain in cafes and blocked aisles on trains to really notice what's going on. Writers and journalists such as Jonas Hassen-Khemiri and Åsa Linderborg have made accusations, veiled or otherwise, that the film is in some way racist, while America Zavala applauds it for attacking the pitfalls of a system characterised by class.

Thematically, the film seems to reach the conclusion that Sweden is a racially and culturally diverse place - whites don dreadlocks and listen to reggae; Native Americans busk in town squares and white girls dance to Zimbabwean pop music for school performance projects. It is, however, experiencing teething problems as it makes some sort of cordial transition into multicultural permanency.

When all is said and done, one does not have to do much research to find stories, radiating in particular out of the city of Malmo, which report chaos and a complete social breakdown on account of multi-racial ghettos rioting for reasons that even the police do not know. One may also read of 'no-go' zones and youth criminality in classrooms so rife that schools have even had to shut for periods of time due to teachers feeling unsafe. Whatever the answer to any of this, Östlund has above all other things managed to make something which actually feels like a piece of cinema - something free of convention; something unpredictable and both harrowing and atmospheric without any real need for pyrotechnics. It is wholly worth seeing for these reasons and more.

Despite having spent much of the film frustrated at the technique used, I found myself unable to turn away and powerfully affected by the end. Shot with static cameras and long takes, sometimes with nothing happening on screen, the film makes us reluctant voyeurs in the same way that passers-by neither intervene nor quite ignore any drama in a public place. The effect is close to found footage from CCTV, with the action taking place in the background or even completely out of shot. The truth is that this could be happening anywhere in the world, right in front of us, and we would not necessarily know. The bullies have refined their tactics and each knows his role within the overall plan. The targets are slowly but surely trapped in a nightmare where bystanders are seeing everything and nothing. There is a scene where the victims ask for support from coffee shop staff but are unable to express their fears in a way that invites help. I would predict that most of us would be as reluctant as the baristas to call the police, or as unsympathetic as the tram workers who catch the children travelling without tickets.

Although filmed in Sweden and featuring older children, Play has overtones of the James Bulger case in UK, with the group developing rules almost independently of its members. Even the victims become complicit, calling back a child who attempts to escape, evoking ideas of Stockholm syndrome and horrific wartime collaborations.

The final scene adds nothing to the story apart from reversing ethnicities, but by then the impact has been felt. The story is frighteningly believable and compelling viewing.

Seeing this movie in 2025 offers a truly unique experience. Watching Play now, you can clearly sense the death of culture and the fragile peace of European nations reflected in its story. The film's unsettling realism hits harder in today's context, making you question how much has changed-or hasn't-since it was made.

As a foreigner, I found the cafe owner's reaction fascinating yet frustrating. When he simply said, "Please call the police," it felt like he was brushing off a serious issue, reducing it to a formality. My impression was that he'd never faced such problems before and had no clue how to handle them. This helplessness seems woven into the film's fabric-it's so realistic that I had to remind myself this might just be the nature of their society, not an exaggeration. It left me wondering: if a child walked into a cafe in 2025 with the same desperate request, would people still respond so passively? Or would the events in Europe over the past few years-rising tensions, social shifts-push them to act differently, to actually help?

The film also digs into deeper ideas. A society that tramples its own values and then gets attacked doesn't deserve pity-it needs to confront the oppressor head-on. Play shows this through subtle moments, like the bureaucracy on the train. That scene stuck with me: the train conductor, trapped by rules, can't make a simple decision. It's a perfect metaphor for how systems enslave people, stripping away their ability to act freely or morally.

Visually, the cinematography is striking. The long, steady shots create a cold, almost documentary-like feel, forcing you to sit with the discomfort. It's not a film that spoon-feeds you answers; it demands you think. Looking back, I appreciate how it balances art and social commentary without preaching. It's a slow burn, but one that lingers.