Close Relations: A Swedish farce that's better than it has any right to be

Is it worth the watch?

If you're into black-and-white comedies where people scramble to hide lies before dinner, then yes, dive right in. It’s light, it’s frantic, and it doesn’t overstay its welcome. But if you have zero patience for the 1930s style of theatrical acting—you know, the kind where everyone projects to the back row of a stadium—you'll probably hate every second of it.

The whole premise of Close Relations is built on that classic, agonizing trope where one person lies and then has to lie ten more times to cover the first one. It’s like watching a car crash in slow motion, but with more shouting. Johan Jansson is clearly out of his depth from the first frame.

There's this one moment where the 'American relatives' arrive and the house just goes into total meltdown. The sheer panic on Edvard Persson's face is honestly kind of great. It’s not subtle. Nothing about this movie is subtle, really. But there’s a charm to how messy the whole thing feels.

It reminded me a bit of the frantic energy in Free and Easy, where everything that can go wrong absolutely does. You can tell they had a budget of about three cents and a dream, but the cast sells the absurdity with such gusto that you stop caring about the thin walls and the stagey furniture.

Small things I noticed:

• The way they handle doors is a total workout. People are constantly popping in and out like it's a jack-in-the-box.
• The outfits. Just... wow. The hats alone are worth the runtime.
• There’s a specific look the wife gives when she’s cornered that made me laugh out loud. It's pure terror masked by a polite smile.

It’s not trying to be Rain. It doesn’t want to haunt you or change your life. It just wants to make you watch a guy try to act like a consul when he clearly has no idea what a consul even does. It’s silly. Sometimes that’s exactly what you need.

The pacing is all over the place. Sometimes scenes drag because they’re waiting for someone to finish a long-winded line, and other times the plot jumps three steps forward without telling you. It feels like a stage play that got lost on its way to the theater and ended up in front of a camera instead. That’s not a complaint, though. It adds to the weird, frantic vibe.

I wouldn't call it a masterpiece. It's just a fun little relic from 1935 that hasn't lost its punch. If you’re looking for something breezy and don't mind a bit of vintage chaos, give it a shot. Just don't expect a history lesson.