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Cult Review
Senior Film Conservator
If you're into dusty, black-and-white comedies that feel like a Sunday afternoon nap, sure. It’s got that specific 1930s Swedish charm where everyone is either shouting or winking at the camera. If you get bored by plots that move at the speed of a horse-drawn carriage, you’re probably gonna hate it.
There is this moment about halfway through where I swear the lighting just shifts completely for no reason. It’s like they forgot to close the curtains on the set. It’s oddly charming, though. It feels like watching a play where the actors are trying their best to remember the lines while keeping a straight face.
Thor Modéen is doing that thing he does where he takes up all the oxygen in the room. He’s loud. He’s everywhere. Sometimes it’s funny, and sometimes I just wanted him to sit down for a minute. It’s not quite the frantic energy of La brigade du bruit, but it gets the job done if you like a bit of slapstick.
The dialogue is snappy in that weird, stagey way. Nobody talks like this, but you don't really care. It reminds me a bit of the lightness in Radio Girl, where the plot is mostly just an excuse to get people in the same room. It doesn't need to be deep.
I found myself zoning out during the long walks through the park. The camera just lingers on trees. It’s strange. Maybe they needed to hide a bad set piece? Who knows. I probably shouldn't think about it too hard. It’s not a film that demands your full attention, and honestly, that’s kind of a relief. Sometimes you just want to watch people pretend to be in love in Stockholm 🤷♂️.
It’s not perfect. The ending feels rushed, like they suddenly realized they were running out of film stock. But it’s harmless. That counts for a lot these days.
