Sometimes, the smallest rocks make the biggest ripples. This is certainly the case in Peter Næss' Elling, where the bond between two friends affects lives both on-screen and off. While elements of a commentary on Norwegian mental health are present, the film's strengths rely heavily on the friendship between the main character Elling and his roommate Kjell Bjarne as they traverse a world familiar to us, but new to them.
Part of what makes Elling so enjoyable is its ability to engage the audience's personal history. Per Christian Ellefsen plays the high-strung Elling as he attempts to adapt into contemporary society. Found alone after his mother's death, he is sent to a state-funded institution in Oslo to learn how to live within the realm of the general public. There, he is paired with another patient who, through sexually-charged escapades, bring the two outside the city and into the dangerous outdoors. But the danger isn't nature - it's society. Elling's nervous troubles, combined with effective filmic techniques, mirror the struggles that many viewers may have faced when trying to fit into the world around them. Elling's experiences are amplified, however, by an unnamed and crippling mental disorder that causes him to collapse, sometimes literally, at the thought of social interaction. Several plot points in the film are dedicated to Elling's adventures into the dangerous public sphere around him. One such instance involves Elling's attempt to visit the local store to obtain groceries. The camera stands far back, revealing the wide scope of the world that Elling must conquer in order to achieve his goal. The sounds of traffic are artificially enhanced as Elling slowly waddles to his destination. The audience then finds him slumped on the ground outside the store, unable to will himself inside. At first, Elling fails miserably with every attempt to adapt, giving in to his hesitations and concerns. The film concludes lightheartedly, though, and the audience is left with little less than admiration for Elling. The film's ability to allow audiences to relate to the unfolding drama is part of what makes it such a satisfying product to watch.
Another of Elling's strengths is the use of the dynamic between the two leads. Juxtaposing the stickler-like behavior of Elling is the gentle brute Kjell Bjarne, played by Sven Nordin. The two are paired in an attempt to better rehabilitate each other, and their humorous differences are what drive the film. The several instances of Elling criticizing Kjell Bjarne for his reckless behavior are the most memorable moments of Elling. For example, when Kjell Bjarne begins aiding a sickly woman named Rediun (played by Marit Pia Jacobsen) in a nearby apartment, Elling bombards his friend with a worry-filled rant before Kjell Bjarne forcibly inserts Elling into bed for the night. As the film progresses and Elling begins to understand the world around him, it becomes clear that it is Kjell Bjarne's friendly influence that helps expedite Elling's recovery.
Elling also serves, in a broader sense, as a commentary on mental health in Norway and its treatment. Director Peter Næss explicitly stated that he "did not want to make the film about psychiatry." He achieves this desire by purposefully avoiding the specific disabilities that plague both Elling and Kjell Bjarne. Instead, the details are left to the viewer's imagination. In addition, Næss uses the character of the social worker Frank, played by Jørgen Langhelle, to help mediate the societal adaptation for the two main characters. However, Frank is not gentle in his assistance and is quick to anger. One scene pits Frank against Elling as the social worker teaches proper telephone-answering behavior. Elling's insecurities cause the scene to erupt into a shouting match about the practicality of plastic speaking devices. Serving as a tough-loving father figure for the two men, Frank represents the Nordic state and its solution to the mentally handicapped.
Films like Elling are unfortunately few and far between. Many films fail to capture the universality of the main character's situation quite like Næss has done. And compared to other Nordic films, Elling is certainly a step away from its overtly tense and sexually- prevalent peers. Although the film failed to win the "Best Foreign Film" Oscar, Elling is, to this day, one of this reviewer's personal favorites. Its uplifting message and enjoyable story continue to positively affect my perspective of quality films. As I watch and share with others, its influence spreads, like ripples in a pond.
Part of what makes Elling so enjoyable is its ability to engage the audience's personal history. Per Christian Ellefsen plays the high-strung Elling as he attempts to adapt into contemporary society. Found alone after his mother's death, he is sent to a state-funded institution in Oslo to learn how to live within the realm of the general public. There, he is paired with another patient who, through sexually-charged escapades, bring the two outside the city and into the dangerous outdoors. But the danger isn't nature - it's society. Elling's nervous troubles, combined with effective filmic techniques, mirror the struggles that many viewers may have faced when trying to fit into the world around them. Elling's experiences are amplified, however, by an unnamed and crippling mental disorder that causes him to collapse, sometimes literally, at the thought of social interaction. Several plot points in the film are dedicated to Elling's adventures into the dangerous public sphere around him. One such instance involves Elling's attempt to visit the local store to obtain groceries. The camera stands far back, revealing the wide scope of the world that Elling must conquer in order to achieve his goal. The sounds of traffic are artificially enhanced as Elling slowly waddles to his destination. The audience then finds him slumped on the ground outside the store, unable to will himself inside. At first, Elling fails miserably with every attempt to adapt, giving in to his hesitations and concerns. The film concludes lightheartedly, though, and the audience is left with little less than admiration for Elling. The film's ability to allow audiences to relate to the unfolding drama is part of what makes it such a satisfying product to watch.
Another of Elling's strengths is the use of the dynamic between the two leads. Juxtaposing the stickler-like behavior of Elling is the gentle brute Kjell Bjarne, played by Sven Nordin. The two are paired in an attempt to better rehabilitate each other, and their humorous differences are what drive the film. The several instances of Elling criticizing Kjell Bjarne for his reckless behavior are the most memorable moments of Elling. For example, when Kjell Bjarne begins aiding a sickly woman named Rediun (played by Marit Pia Jacobsen) in a nearby apartment, Elling bombards his friend with a worry-filled rant before Kjell Bjarne forcibly inserts Elling into bed for the night. As the film progresses and Elling begins to understand the world around him, it becomes clear that it is Kjell Bjarne's friendly influence that helps expedite Elling's recovery.
Elling also serves, in a broader sense, as a commentary on mental health in Norway and its treatment. Director Peter Næss explicitly stated that he "did not want to make the film about psychiatry." He achieves this desire by purposefully avoiding the specific disabilities that plague both Elling and Kjell Bjarne. Instead, the details are left to the viewer's imagination. In addition, Næss uses the character of the social worker Frank, played by Jørgen Langhelle, to help mediate the societal adaptation for the two main characters. However, Frank is not gentle in his assistance and is quick to anger. One scene pits Frank against Elling as the social worker teaches proper telephone-answering behavior. Elling's insecurities cause the scene to erupt into a shouting match about the practicality of plastic speaking devices. Serving as a tough-loving father figure for the two men, Frank represents the Nordic state and its solution to the mentally handicapped.
Films like Elling are unfortunately few and far between. Many films fail to capture the universality of the main character's situation quite like Næss has done. And compared to other Nordic films, Elling is certainly a step away from its overtly tense and sexually- prevalent peers. Although the film failed to win the "Best Foreign Film" Oscar, Elling is, to this day, one of this reviewer's personal favorites. Its uplifting message and enjoyable story continue to positively affect my perspective of quality films. As I watch and share with others, its influence spreads, like ripples in a pond.