Play (2011)

A Meetup group on international cinema invited me to this entry in a Ruben Östlund festival. I would not have come otherwise, and not just because of the bland title (which works a little on a few levels). Force Majeure looked more promising but had a less convenient showtime. Still, director Östlund himself recommends Play most strongly -- as his most provocative.

In the Swedish tradition set by Ingmar Bergman, this is not an entertainment film. It will irritate you if you ever faced bullies or thieves, so I hope you don't mind anger at fiction. Mostly it's five teenage boys harassing three sixth-grade boys (mostly just intimidation with feigned innocence and mockery) for hours until the latter surrender their valuables, far from home. I knew better than to expect justice. What I didn't readily know was the point -- or the several points.

Perhaps the most distinctive aspect of Östlund's style is his camerawork. We get plenty of tracking shots several minutes in length, but much unlike in Birdman, the camera usually doesn't even move. It tends to show key characters from far away, too. As a result, we feel "present" as unnoticed bystanders, unwilling or unable to do anything about the sordid events before us.

That feeling ties in well with what we see on screen. The major characters aren't always alone, nor are they the only ones victimized. Bystanders may get perturbed, yet they refrain from intervening even when asked. The victims aren't entirely blameless either; they make foolish and cowardly moves, sometimes helping along the bullies against their friends. This being Sweden, my group inevitably thought of Stockholm syndrome. We disagreed on whether the...tolerance...was especially Swedish or would be just as credible in the U.S. (my vote).

Some viewers decry Play as racist, because the thieves are black, apparently of recent Somali descent, and their victims are mostly native Swedes and one guy of East Asian descent. But the difference does have an eventual importance to the plot -- more for nationality than for race. Without getting into spoilers, let's just say that Europe in general is pretty open about tension with immigrants. It reminded me at times of the still-timely 1995 French thriller La Haine. (Incidentally, in true indie fashion, both La Haine and Play have actors using their real first names, except when two were the same.)

Many scenes show moments that have nothing obvious to do with the main story. In particular, what we might call the subplot concerns a cradle left unclaimed on a train despite several announcements that it has to be removed as a safety hazard. The crew's reluctance to take further action (ah, there's the connection!) gets mildly amusing after a while. The plots do come together in the end, but rather awkwardly. As minutes wore on without explanation, I felt embarrassed, as if I had wandered into the wrong place.

Thankfully, my group of diversely cultured cineastes helped shed some light on the mysterious parts. Some of us liked Play, some disliked it, and I took the middle stance, but it got us talking a lot. Mission accomplished, Östlund. As for you all, if you decide to give this art piece a try, be sure to take at least one companion, unless you know someone who's seen it and can remember many details.