A Norwegian mystery thriller that tries hard, very hard, to be clever. Nicholas Ramm (Reidar Sorensen) is a cynical city cop dispatched to an end-of-the-world province to solve a double murder. He is confronted with the Nordic version of omerta and must learn that the whole hicktown has conspired against him. Though on the outset, it seems like it has many ingredients going for it, 1732 Hotten was recklessly turned into a grade-A stinker by a bunch of taut overachievers. For one, everyone in the film, right down to the faintest supporting act, is a confirmed and heavily overdrawn nutcase, which despite the partly good acting becomes unbearable after just ten seconds. The music score, a poor man's Tom Waits (is that a pleonasm?) imitation, is the most annoying single piece of dreck ever to come out of a synthesizer; worse, it mostly kicks in for no reason other than making you beg your ears fell off. The same goes for the camera work, which is hardly ever purpose-driven and instead veers off into some of the most complacent film academy mannerisms to-date. The transitions, takes, and cuts are so deliberately arty that it hurts a blind man's eye, while the few physical action scenes look downright ridiculous. The fundamental problem with this film is that there's too much of everything: too much madness, too much bigotry, too much mystery, too much cynicism... And just when you think you're finally over it, this silly little cockroach of a film turns into a hideous monster, topping all the incoherences it's been churning out by staging one of cinema's most infuriatingly deceptive ends. I do sympathize with the Norwegian fraction that has expressed its anger on this site. Not that you'd necessarily expect a naturalist depiction of rural Norway but even if your option is atmosphere, there has got to be some credibility. Excentricity has to be authentic, too. Director Karin Julsrud should burn all her Lynch and Coen tapes and go fishing.
