The Celebration Review
by "Harvey S. Karten" (film_critic AT compuserve DOT com)October 1st, 1998
THE CELEBRATION
Reviewed by Harvey Karten, Ph.D.
October Films
Director: Thomas Vinterberg
Writer: Thomas Vinterberg, Morens Rubkov
Cast: John Boas, Klaus Bondam, Lars Brygmann, Gbatokai Dakinah, Helle Dolleris, Trine Dyrholm, Therese Glahn, Gjarne Henriksen, Thomas Bo Larsen, Linda Laursen, Lasse Lunderskov, Henning Moritzen, Birthe Neumann, Lene Laub Oksen, Birgitte Simonsen, Paprika Steen, Ulrich Thomsen
During the last world war, when their country was occupied by the Nazis, the Danes did a dauntless job of saving their country's Jews from deportation to the death camps, putting them in the front ranks on the Continent for such empathy, compassion adn good will. There's nothing like a Dane. Unfortunately, however, within the four walls of family life, they're no different from the rest of us, or at least that's so in the mind of writer-director Thomas Vinterberg whose "The Celebration" is produced by Lars von Trier ("The Kingdom," parts 1 & 2). With pederastry the trendy subject tackled this year by the film industry--"Lolita" is hitting the screens on Sept. 25 and "Happiness" following soon thereafter--this Danish study of family dysfunction pushes the envelope further. Involuntary incest, not mere pedophilia, is the theme-- not a new one if you've read or seen "Oedipus"--but in the hands of von Trier and Vinterberg the subjects gets a darkly comic touch. Most of the action takes place within the home of a wealthy man celebrating his sixtieth birthday, so that the story does bear the imprint of the stage and, in fact, some of the leading performers are quite renowned players in the Danish theater scene.
A powerful drama of guilt, revelation and cleansing which in Danish is called "Festen," this production exhibits the perverse manners of the birthday party from hell. Its celebrants including a large contingent of racists, a child molester, a wife abuser, a couple of psychotics and an assemblage of neurotics and, as has been fashionable in stories about incest since the time of Sophocles, a juicy suicide.
In one of the few outdoor scenes, a caravan of cars make their way across the Danish countryside to the chateau which is the country home of the fabulously wealthy patriarch, Helge (Henning Moritzen). At least two of the guests are off-the-wall from the very beginning. Michael (Thomas Bo Larsen), the eldest son, is so volatile he has to crash the banquet as his dad refused to invite him. He shrieks and is shrieked at by his wife, Mette (Helle Dolleris), throws her out of the car to allow his brother Christian (Ulrich Thomsen) to join him, slaps her around, and even engages in a bout of malevolent sex, graphically shown, as the guests are in their rooms awaiting the call to dinner. We learn that their sister, Linda (Lene Laub Oksen, who shows up in a flashback) had committed suicide by drowning herself in the bathtub a short while back, and soon enough find out the motive behind the tragedy.
As the dinner progresses with the toastmaster (Klaus Bondam) emceeing the banal speeches of the guests, Christian shocks the company by announcing "Dad raped us," adding as if to mollify the poor man that Helge had always been a clean person, addicted to baths in all seasons. He is later to present another toast to his old man, one even more shocking, but even then, the guests are prepared not to believe him until further evidence is brought forth.
Between these bouts of speechmaking, Vinterberg treats us to some comic business and hanky panky, particularly involving Christian's relationship to one of the house maids, Pia (Trine Dyrholm), a woman to whom he had not been able to commit presumably because of his childhood violations. In one scene Vinterberg indicts virtually the entire society of wealthy and successful guests as racists. When Helene (Paprika Steen) shows up with a black boyfriend, (Gbatokai Dakinah), the assemblage all burst forth in a racist song about "black Sambos" and "red Indians." In the movie's most comic moment, Michael, spotting Gbatokai in the parking and assuming that he is a musician rather than an invited guest, assures him that no trumpeter would be needed for this party.
Thomas Bo Larsen gets the opportunity to turn on the emotions with an array of wildly melodramatic acting. The real talents of the picture, though, are Ulrich Thomsen, who must portray an obsessed son who seems at first like the most stable man of the group but turns into the catalyst for disastrous revelation; and renowed stage actor Henning Moritzen, who, like Oedipus, reflects a disbelief in the disclosures at first but turns into a sunken shell when the final bombshell is delivered.
Like producer Lars von Trier, director Vinterberg shows a preference for the hand-held camera as though to portray the party from the point of view of a guest who is snapping photos of the macabre celebration. The shaky hand may be troubling at first, but effectively conveys the chaos and clutter of the moment.
Some theorists believe that dramatic conflict works best when the skirmishing people are essentially locked together in a closed space and cannot leave until they work out their tensions. What gives the picture this touch of theatricality is that much of the action would not have taken place had the company of guests been able to escape to their cars. Since the wait staff hid the keys to enjoy the fun, we are reminded of Luis Bunuel's 1962 masterpie;ce, "The Exterminating Angel," in which guests at an elegant dinner party cannot bring themselves to leave and begin to starve and die after several days. Vinterberg's characters do eventually get to retreat, sadder and wiser for the experience. For some the ritual has been a cleansing experience bringing about the closure that will allow them to go on with their lives in a healthier manner. We, too, feel a sense of relief when Vinterberg brings closure to the picture, a work which quite effectually takes us behind closely guarded walls to explore the nature of the rich and successful.
Rated R. Running time: 105 minutes. (C) Harvey Karten
1998
Originally posted in the rec.arts.movies.reviews newsgroup. Copyright belongs to original author unless otherwise stated. We take no responsibilities nor do we endorse the contents of this review.
