Kunsten at græde i kor

In a dysfunctional family headed by a neurotic, depressive and abusive milkman Far (Jesper Asholt), eleven year old Allan (Jannik Lorenzen) stills beholds his father as a role model, unable to grasp the destructive influence he has on other household members. Far terrorises the family with his insecurity, forcibly seeking affirmation of his worth. His mother Sanne (Julie Kolbech) hides away inside from Far's incessant sobbing preferring to take sleeping pills than to comfort her hysterical husband, while older brother Asger (Thomas Knuth-Winterfeldt) has escaped the house and enjoying his student life. Allan tries his best to keep his father happy, nagging his sister Mor (Hanne Hedelund) to do that thing, that she does to keep father away for him suicidal tendencies. Finally he discovers that Far is inwardly joyous whenever he has the opportunity to deliver riveting eulogies, thus tempting Allan to enter a murderous spree to supply his father with eulogies. Allan, still not old enough to see through the manipulative behaviour does the most dastardly deeds out of an innocent belief in his father's greatness.

Set in 1970s Danish countryside the story about an abusive patriarch takes a wicked turn into a coming-of-age story dabbling with dry humour, but the subject matter including incest and physical abuse grinds uncomfortably with the the tone of the film. Seemingly light the dark entrails make it a troublesome watch, as it jars with a dramatic contradiction. Narratively loose it also fails to truly develop the story, leaving it somewhat hanging in oblivion making it feel somewhat dragging and exerting your patience at times. Performances are well-rounded, set in the quirkiness of characters, but as the movie goes I found myself disinterested in their development as the story obviously lacks focus, throwing dramatic tantrums, instead of building on the material.

I guess the title basically says most.

Although I don't mind depressing and beautiful movies it get. This although is depressing on another level, simply because almost all movies from Scandinavia is social realistic, so to me it's just another one and I'm left with the thought: "Wow this is impressive, social realistic with a new theme we almost haven't heard of before" (sarcasm for the 'Sheldons' out there).

What would be impressive on the other hand would be that we (the Scandinavian countries) started to make something different - not just another social realistic movie. Then the ones that are made might actually make an impression on me.

Are we Scandinavians really this boring?

So as I said in the title: this is really just another Scandinavian social realistic movie. If you like that kind of movie great. But if you don't (or as I just want it some times and want variation) it gets depressing that it's almost all we got.

You cannot. Of course not. Still what I find brilliant and special with this film, is that all though child abuse is a main theme, it is still a film where you laugh. That Schønau Fog can make a film about such a horrific subject and still make you laugh. Not that this is a comedy, but because the situation is grotesque. In a child's view the situation in HIS family is normal, and that's (obviously) the point of view from which he (Allan, who's narration makes quite a lot of the "dialogue") tell us what happens: "Sanne makes Dad happy"...

And is the only child abuse in the film what the father does with Sanne, or is Allan a victim as well? That the mother is abusing him by her escapistic use of sleeping pills? She actually leave the responsibility for the family's functionality with Allan, who then tries to "make Dad happy", whether it's by acting as a pimp ("Sanne, Dad is crying! You must go downstairs to him!") or by "pushing coincidence"! By... No, you must see this film!

Based on an autobiographical novel by Erling Jepsen, this drama/black comedy of a dysfunctional family takes place in southern Denmark close to the German border in the early 70'es. Jesper Asholt plays the family patriarch, a whining grocer, who has a hard time coping with changing times and family patterns. As a result, he constantly threatens his wife and kids that he'll commit suicide. While his wife escapes reality with sedatives, his young son Allan is determined to keep his father from killing himself. As his dad is only truly happy when he gets to deliver tearful speeches at local funerals, Allan sees no other option than to make sure there are plenty of funerals for his father to attend... If you think you know where this is going, watch this movie anyway, as it's got plenty of surprises and twists, changing from black comedy to heartbreaking drama, with some shattering, almost unbearably intense, albeit discreet, scenes of child abuse. Made with care, a genuine feel for time and place and destined to become a modern classic. Truly unforgettable, and an impressive feature debut for director Peter S. Fog.

I had the privilege of watching this at its world premiere at the Toronto International Film Fest, and it's always great to discover new talent. Here, it's not just the discovery of Peter Schonau Fog, but also of the tremendous cast, especially young Jannik Lorenzen, who plays 11-year-old Allan to perfection with his cheeky bewilderment, and eventually with a heavy disappointment that accompanies his loss of innocence. The film reminds me of Schlondorff's The Tin Drum with its rather disturbing, yet comical theme of children growing up entirely too quickly, although The Art of Crying is, in my opinion, far more beautifully poignant as it is told through Allan's eyes.

Henry (Jesper Asholt) is a milkman whose nightly suicide attempts and constant hysterics have driven his wife to taking sleeping pills every night to avoid him, and his son to university out of their sleepy rural village in Denmark. Henry's young son Allan (Lorenzen) adores him, and begins performing a series of bizarre acts in order to win his father's happiness, seeing nothing wrong with his father's manipulative actions and dysfunctional family dynamics.

I enjoyed this portrayal of the tension between the rural and the urban, seen in Henry's interactions with his educated son Asger, his daughter Sanne's boyfriend the "moped rowdy" Per, and his neighbour the Buddes, who have introduced self-service at their rival grocery store. It's a compelling tale, grippingly suspenseful as you wait to see what Henry and Allan will do next, yet disturbingly funny as you watch Allan delight in the most unpleasant things (just as long as they make Henry happy). Strong performances all around, and a neat debut for Schonau Fog!