Prag

Prague was a great setting to choose for this examination of an artistic woman married to a boring lawyer who specialises in bankruptcies. It's the city that symbolises some lost European past of a different scale and kind, and our couple are not visiting for pleasure: instead the hero has come to supervise the transfer of his dead father's body back to Denmark. Naturally, the wife is having a wild affair in Copenhagen with a randy, well-endowed, young artist, but she is still loyal to the father of her lovable young son, with whom the couple confer on Skype. It's a fascinating situation, and the director gets convincing performances out of the players, while the photography director does miracles with digital technology, creating a typically grey European winter in beautiful colours. The ambiguity that troubles the couple, causing them to mate passionately and repeatedly while having rows and freeze-outs, captures an essence of marriage that viewer-couples will find hard to resist.

Excellent little Danish film about a marriage on the verge to falling apart. Superb acting from Mads Mikkelsen, who shows that he's as home in a small setting, as in the latest Bond film.

Stine Stengade, who plays his wife, is for me a new experience, but her acting is very impressive, not least as the neglected partner in a long marriage.

The setting is a trip from Denmark to Prag to collect the corpse of Mads's father, who has lived away from his family in Prag, the last twenty, or so. Mads had waited year after year for a sign of life from his father, a visit, or just a letter, but nothing, till he is summoned to take care of his father's remains.

Unusually, for a mixed nationality cast, in this case of Czech and Danish actors and film crew, it seems to have to have worked perfect.

It could have been perfect, but a few twists in the story are not fully exploited, like did the wife have a lover, or not?! The SMSes on her mobile phone could have been a way for her to get him to react, couldn't it?! A happy ending hadn't spoiled the story, would it?

As Mads Mikkelsen is one of my favourite actors, Prag is one of my favourite cities, and Stine Stengade has also caught my eye in various series, so it was natural to me to watch Prag in spite of sporadic reluctance to follow films on family tensions and issues. But I was sure that Mikkelsen is capable of filling out the scenes in full, that it does not become boring or annoying, plus delightful Prague is always a fine supporting actor... So it all was, and funny moments related to grasps and state of affairs in a post-socialist country together with fast unexpected twists in the plot provided the film with additional value. Local characters were distinct as well, and all well performed, thus the Danish-Czech cooperation turned out to be smooth.

Moreover, I realised that language barrier can be overcome more easily than emotional one... If the ending were less trivial/predictable, I would have given 8 points. Now 7.

Incredible performances, patient story telling and an intriguing and moving plot combine to create a dramatic and touching film about a marriage falling apart and the hauntings of a recently deceased father, set in one of the world's most beautiful cities.

Ultimately, though, it's a film about broken communication and the outcomes that evolve. Between the main character and his wife, between the main character and the girl occupying his father's flat and between the main character and his father.

Those who love European cinema should not miss this beauty of a film. It's original and mesmerizing.

A full coffin shown on an airport x-ray machine. The historic beauty of Prague. A lawyer who offers his services at no cost, no strings. The handbag of a wealthy woman and its contents thrown to a crowd in a market square.

When we take elements out of context, we could make an infinite number of stories out them. Tragedy, comedy, romance. When we look at a relationship, we maybe select the details that fit a particular keyhole view. Movies generally simplify even further. To Ole Christian Madsen's credit, he at least tries to remind us that reality is rarely as simple.

Christoffer (Mads Mikkelsen - the bad guy in Casino Royale) is taking his wife Maja to Prague. Perhaps he hopes that a weekend in this romantic city will be good for them, but the underlying purpose is that his father has died there and he needs to sign some papers before the body can be brought back to Denmark. Dry humour is mixed with sadness due to language difficulties. Maja asks the hotel for an adaptor plug and they send an iron (with polite reassurances).

Miscommunication is also reflected in their relationship. They seem to get on well, but then Christoffer confronts his wife with evidence of her unfaithfulness, at the same time saying he forgives he and wants to make their fourteen-year marriage work. She doesn't think she is the one that needs to be forgiven. Christoffer's father has left him an audiocassette. They don't have a tape player and have to go to a jazz bar to hear it. Nothing is what it seems, and the situation unravels before us in a constantly unpredictable way.

Prag dissects the pain of separation, not with the shouting and screaming of Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf, but with the equally cutting knife of toleration and flawed understanding. As Christoffer comes to terms with possibility of life without Maja, he explores the question of identity and also the sense of 'knowing' another person. How do you define someone? Their job? Their likes? Their relationship(s)? Are we the result of the things that have happened to us or the sum of the kindness we show to others. With the analytic attitude typical of his profession as a lawyer, Christoffer tries to delineate who he is to Maja but she won't play the same game - at least verbally. Fourteen years of feelings are not thrown away so easily when there is goodwill present, even in the face of what might be irrevocable breakdown. When Christoffer meets his father's ex-housekeeper, Alena, he sees some warmth and human goodness uncomplicated by the vagaries of language. At one point, we see the two of them in silhouette, feelings beautifully portrayed and uncoloured by words.

With the various languages in subtitles, we are privy to more information than any of the characters. "We're always ashamed and never good enough for the world," says Alena (in Czech). A lesson that Danish Christoffer cannot fathom.

With the Czech lawyer (tidying up Dad's affairs for nothing), there is some stumbling conversation - they have enough words between them for halting conversation. "Life is hard," he tells Christoffer. "You bend it or you break."

Prag has a more 'European' feel than much of Danish cinema. It lingers on detail, encourages the viewer to consider subtleties. Intellectually, it touches on areas of breakdowns in communication as did the more ambitious Babel, but it does so with a gentle warmth and hope in the face of adversity. For all its sadness of theme, Prag is a strangely beautiful and moving film.