Mørke

I like psychological thrillers...Danish films are good at that. Movie to think about and dwell on tomorrow...and then let it go.

I would say I like dramatic thrillers a lot - particularly when events are happening in a real life, not in someone's head. If a confrontation arises between main personalities, it provides additional value to the film. In Mørke, the respective atmosphere and preconditions are capably created, but the main opposition is not equal: Jacob (vigorously performed by Nicolaj Lie Kaas, at least 1 additional point from me due to him) is much stronger and versatile character than "soft" Anker (Nicolas Bro) and the reasons for the latter's actions could have been different than appeared in the end (with a decent twist, however). Or perhaps I am more interested in materially motivated actions than spiritually.

The film is undoubtedly for you if uneasiness, gloom and doubts throughout the film are important and long moving scenes do not become boring.

Acting is great, photography and ambient is nice, but the story becomes just ridiculously and absurdly stupid somewhere around the middle of the film.

Not just that the main character behaves as a total idiot ( I won't say more, as I don't want this review to have a spoiler but you'll get it) but also all the other characters behave like brainless crowd.

I watched this movie on late night TV because Nikolaj Lie Kaas headed the cast; he is always astounding, and gives such rounded, often so-believable-it's-painful, performances. Then on to the screen walked Nicolas Bro (as Anker, the serial wedder) and I knew this would be a film worth staying up late for. Bro can walk that fine line between comfortingly believable nice guy and crazy nut job, so that one is forever questioning judgements formed about his character's true motives. His physical size alone is at once both reassuring and threatening.

There are layers to this excellent, but dark story which are still emerging for me. Kaas' character is drawn into a search for how his beloved sister, disabled from an earlier suicide attempt, could have suicided on her wedding night to the (decidedly creepy) Anker. So many times I wanted to scream at Kaas 'Go home - you really don't want to be going there!!' as he relentlessly pursued the truth about his sister's death.

I was always aware that Nikolaj Lie Kaas' parents had each suicided, and so this film would have been a necessary, and perhaps cathartic experience for him. I hadn't known that the Danes were a death-denying country, but perhaps this is a feature of all Western countries, as we go about kidding ourselves that we're happy, and that we'll surely live forever! Death and death-denial are favourite subjects of mine, so this film spoke to me at a deeper level than it may for other viewers.

Don't let the subject matter put you off. This is a truly remarkable film, and is worth seeing, just for the performances alone.

I wasn't exactly sure quite what happened in this film. The more I thought about it the more murky it got.

The film begins with some obscure quote from philosopher Albert Camus who apparently propounds the idea that the we struggle to seek meaning in a meaningless world. I assume that this was a film about assisting or facilitating suicide.

Ankers parents may have been assisted towards their demise. Anker seems compelled to help people to slip their mortal coil. But what are the chances that every young female disabled person that he meets seeks to end their own life. Or that they would all choose to marry him. Or that they would all commit suicide on their wedding day in the bath. It is so unlikely that if this did ever happen then actually they must all have been murdered.

The essential mystery is 'Did he kill them or didn't he?'.

The one person who definitely did kill someone by stabbing them was subsequently allowed to go free? I struggle to come to terms with the central absurdity of the film.

Ultimately are we supposed to believe this unlikely series of suicides or are we invited to suspect that this is serial murder.

It would have been better with only two victims instead of four. With four, the central concept collapses under the weight of improbability. Otherwise it is a well made film.