Flickor på fabrik: A Day at the Light Bulb Factory

Is it worth your time?

If you have a soft spot for 1940s Swedish studio comedies where everyone is a bit too loud and the lighting is always perfectly staged, then sure, jump in. If you’re looking for a serious look at labor relations or industrial history, you’re going to be bored to tears within the first ten minutes. It’s light, it’s fluffy, and it doesn't try to be anything else.

Axel Bergström is the guy in charge of the light bulb factory, and watching him try to manage a floor full of women is basically the entire movie. It’s got that peculiar energy where everyone seems to be acting like they’re in a theater play rather than a film. You can practically hear the director shouting cues from just behind the camera.

The Factory Floor

The set design is pretty funny. It’s a factory, sure, but it’s the cleanest, most brightly lit, and strangely quietest factory I’ve ever seen. Nobody actually seems to be assembling anything; they just kind of stand near benches and talk. It reminds me a bit of the frantic, staged energy in The Five Faults of Flo, where the environment is really just an excuse to get characters into the same room so they can bicker.

There is this one moment where a character is holding a bulb, and they stare at it with such intensity you’d think it was the Hope Diamond. It lasts about three seconds too long. It’s these little, unimportant beats that make you realize the movie isn't interested in the lamps. It’s interested in who’s mad at whom this afternoon.

• The dialogue is fast, almost like a machine gun.
• The costumes are surprisingly crisp for a working environment.
• Someone is almost always laughing in the background, even when the scene is supposed to be 'serious'.

I found myself wondering if anyone actually knew how to make a light bulb after the cameras stopped rolling. Probably not. It’s very much like The Three Must-Get-Theres in its commitment to pure, unadulterated silliness. You aren't watching this for the craft; you're watching it because it’s a time capsule of people being dramatic about absolutely nothing.

Sometimes the movie gets noticeably better when it stops trying to be a workplace drama and just lets the cast be themselves. There’s a chaotic charm to it. It’s not going to change your life, but it’s a pleasant enough way to kill an hour if you like your movies to feel like a dusty, comfortable blanket. 💡