A passionate relationship leads to marriage and children, and seven years later they find themselves stuck in what might just be an all-too recognisable urban family hell in the post-women's lib era, in which none of the members of the household feel they get the time, space, attention, and love they deserve and need. None more so than wife and mother of four, Maria (Helga Guren), who detests her husband's every hint of happiness and achievement in light of her own lack of such. When she lashes out at him one final time, his patience and tolerance are pushed to the brink, and he becomes cold and disinterested. First-time director Lilja Ingolfsdottir creates interpersonal drama with a depth and magnitude that even Ingmar Bergmann would be proud of. Elskling scrutinises its characters and relationships relentlessly, never allowing them (or us) the slightest respite from their own shortcomings or self-pity. There is an optimism in Ingolfsdottir's work, but it is well-hidden under the characters' defiance, insecurities, and rationalisations, and once we finally get to the much-awaited catharsis, it's not a typical movie catharsis of our protagonist changing her ways, but of her having slowly realised and come to terms with some of the mechanisms behind her problems. Elskling is a powerful, demanding and sometimes funny drama that isn't designed to make you happy, except perhaps about your own life as the credits start rolling. There are strong, stripped-down performances by the two lead actors, especially Guren.
