En frygtelig kvinde

...she breaks the fourth wall twice just to let us know that she knows she is horrible too. Ok, got it, now what was the point of that? There is no depth to the characters, they were all good and engaging actors but they were all playing strictly one note ciphers - most likely the intention of the director, to get the audience to fill in the gaps from their own perspectives so the film can be considered deep and introspective, instead of just what it really is, shallow and superficial with obivous stereotypes - the harried husband and the harridan wife, ok, got it, and again, I ask, now what was the point of that?

Few movies manage to get under your skin and force you to reflect on who you are as a person in terms of relationships. This movie does that in both satirical and humorous ways, but also in dramatic, cringe worthy ways, where the worst inside of us is painfully portrayed. If you think this movie is just about a horrible, possessive, and controlling woman, you are wrong! It is also about the superficiality of male bonding and the destruction of personal identity that happens in any abusive relationship - whether the perpetrator is a man or a woman. I myself, as well as everyone I have talked to who have seen it, saw many painfully recognizable things in these two extremely well acted characters, which brings the poster for the movie into perspective. A Horrible Woman dares us to look in the mirror and be confronted with our own shortcomings and I triple dare anyone who see it, to NOT discuss it afterwards.

After watching Amanda Collin in Raised By Wolves, I wanted to see some of her other work. I saw this was available for free on Amazon Prime and the trailer looked good, so I was happy to check this out.

Based on the title, and sinister cover photo, I expected Marie (played by Amanda Collin) to be some kind of devious sadist who enjoyed webbing a weave of evil. But that's not what this film is. And to be honest, I'm not even sure if I would call her "horrible." Perhaps that's because so many of her manipulative behaviors are commonplace and somehow not condemned enough in modern culture.

At the crux of this film lies an all too common relationship with a heavily unbalanced power and personality dynamic. Aggressive women like Marie are toxic, manipulative, and abusive for men like Rasmus. Men like Rasmus would be better with a woman with a different kind of feminine energy.

Despite almost always getting her way, Rasmus doesn't give Marie what she wants, which is a confident man who shares his life with her. She doesn't want to be with a man whose only life is her. With each concession and roll over that Rasmus makes, the less respect she has for him.

This starts to come to a head on their museum date, where Marie articulates the problem in the relationship. Tired of Rasmus lacking a backbone, and unwillingness to confront it, she does it for him.

"Are you afraid of me? It just seems like you're afraid. You walk on eggshells around me. I can't stand it. I don't know what I've done to you. That's why I am asking you. You tip toe around me, and you act like a little puppy. Why do you have to do that? Why can't you just be yourself?"

Both men and women have been in relationships with this unequally yoked dynamic, and this familiarity should cause some introspection. Perhaps we can see how we have been horrible to others or accepted horrible behaviors from others out of fear of losing a relationship. I enjoy films like this because it holds a mirror to us, and for those looking to grow, it challenges us to do better.

First, you have to thank the creators of the film for their courage in times when it is a politically correct opinion that women are the "better" people to make such a movie. There are very few countries in the world where freedom of thought and speech is as normal as in Denmark.

This film is a very deep analysis of female subtle exercise of power. A film to which you can attach two more parts. I hope that this film is not only in Denmark in the cinema.

It is not understandable when the critic simply asks himself if the director hates women. Even if it were so, what should be inferred from it? Is this supposed woman-hater put on the politically correct wall? There are currently hundreds of correct films about strong women fighting bad guys. Are these all male haters? It does not matter if anyone hates women or not. It's about a perfect analysis of female behavior, presented here in a comedy with much bitter truth. Not more!

At the post-screening of the film in Lübeck (nordic film week), the women who spoke out praised the film very much. A psychiatric doctor (a woman...) has even confirmed that control delusion and subtle exercise of power is a typical diagnosis among women. The director's brother was very surprised ...

What should love be? Is love respect or domination? A great cinematic analysis with bitter humor from a male perspective was created here.

I wish all people to open their eyes and creatively allow a new sovereign and free discussion on the gender war. This film is a milestone on this meaning.

A question many viewers may have on leaving A Horrible Woman (2017)is whether the film's title is meant to be ironic or judgemental. Today's gender politics make such questions inescapably loaded but this film can also be read as a portrait of perfect complementarity between the sexes.

A simple plotline keeps the focus on its two principal characters. Likeable bachelor Rasmus (Anders Juul) envies his friends' long-term relationships yet values his freedom until he meets the beautiful, vivacious, and interested Marie (Amanda Collin). They are well matched: she is forward and assertive, he is quiet and compliant. Each time she advances into his emotional space, he yields ground. She moves into his apartment and changes everything, while he squirms but is powerless to act.

We observe the story through two frames: one is through the eyes of friends who envy Rasmus his good fortune; the other is through his own diminishing sense of self. The more she deploys femininity to manipulate him the more he meekly acquiesces. In two different scenes, asMarie reaches new thresholds of control, she makes eye contact with us, the viewer, in a "look at what I can do" moment. Chillingly, this conscious duplicity may also be a signal of mental illness and it leaves no doubt that Marie is conscious of her power. Rather than sympathise with her victim, his weakness tempts us to think he deserves what she dishes out. The story takes a few twists and turns through his attempts to stand up to her, but his efforts are not enough to alter the narrative arc of his emasculation.

What are we to make of this unusual film? The director has been attacked as a misogynist, but the recognisability of Rasmus and Marie and their complementary characteristics makes this a broader study of relationships, rather than just another gender battle. They could have swapped gender and the story would play out with as much veracity, but perhaps less entertainment. If this is a valid litmus test, then the film rises above gender discourse.

The performances of the two stars are exemplary. Amanda Collins excels across her repertoire of feminine wiles while Anders Juul is her perfect guileless pawn. The filming style is claustrophobic Nordic domestic drama, with enough black humour to lighten its load. This entertaining study of gender roles makes you wonder how the planet has survived so long.