Á ferð með mömmu

Saw this in Leeuwarden (NL), at the Noordelijk film festival 2023. Sadness all over, given the near-empty and confined lives that both main protagonists have in our eyes, plus their uncertain future if one of them dies or gets seriously sick.

The journey starts with the death of Jon's mother as per her explicit last wishes, the beginning of a road movie, bringing a variety of situations, landscapes and people we see and meet in the course of the ride. Some scenes are uneasy to watch, thinking for a moment we see a Haneke/Seidl product. Others are heartwarming. Still, most scenes leave a depressed feeling, when zooming in on their past lives and missed opportunities.

A rather unexpected phenomenon is that the mother, albeit dead, still interferes in the route they take, and utters harsh comments on people they meet. She especially drags on about Jon's lost love Bergdis he had eyes on a very long time ago. Of course, we can consider her talking as Jon's imagination outguessing what his mother would have said if still alive, thus keeping her in the process as participating protagonist. Whatever the intentions, "she" is a logical vehicle introduced by the filmmakers, for a silent dead body on the back seat would have been in no way interesting for us.

An unexpected protagonist is the dog Brezhnev (spelled and spoken in variations), who is reluctant at first to go along with the trip, but still decides to jump in. Contrary to Jon's mom, he does not speak, even not in Jon's imagination. Nevertheless, he still has his moments, hence has a useful role as a third participant.

Despite the meager ingredients, the nearly two hours are easy to sit out. That said, I had expected much more of it, maybe more social commentary, maybe more Icelandic landscapes, maybe a varied assortment of Icelanders, whatever. Neither Jon nor his mother are interesting people, which may be my main problem overall with this movie.

Don't be put off by the title, which is bland and unintentionally deceitful. Pay no attention, either, to over-simplified summaries: road movie, black comedy, that sort of thing. Driving Mum is a clever, imaginative film that flickers in the light of various genres but develops its own distinctive character.

The leading man, hirsute, taciturn and unworldly, is heroic. His dog, Brezhnev, easily justifies third place on the credits, after Mum, the stiffness of whose performance makes her a candidate for Best Supporting Actress.

The film successfully negotiates the line between eccentricity and silliness. Characters, scenes and events teeter at the far edge of implausibility but never topple over. Shot in monochrome - perhaps to establish dreary Icelandic credentials - it is often starkly beautiful, and the supporting cast adds colour.

Towards the end the sequence of events turns into a plot with a dramatic twist, but it's barely necessary. The film is so well put together that it might end satisfactorily at any one of three or four points. Driving Mum is a rare treat, reminiscent at times of Peter Greenaway.