Text © Richard
Gary / Indie Horror Films, 2022
Images from the Internet
The Mare (aka Mare)
Directed by René Bjerregaard
Broadstone;
74 minutes, 2020 / 2022
This Norwegian film (with subtitles), shot in Sogn og Fjordane, nearly 230 miles northeast of Oslo, is moody and gloomy, as is often the case of releases from Scandinavia in general, where summers are beautiful and bright, but the winters are long and dark. And like many others from this part of the world, it is a touch on the arty side, but I will get into that later.
Meanwhile, we are introduced to the protagonist, a dimply young man named Liam (Alv Fossum). He is quite troubled. He has violent images in the form of nightmares (hence the film’s title). His father (Jonny Bjørkhaug) is naturally worried about the dude: waking up screaming and in a cold sweat. Of course, we get to share in Liam’s night landscape dominated by a black handed demon (Kim Kvamme), family members, and his own fears. Trying to help, he takes Liam to his grandparent’s house in a small town in the remote fjord-infjused east coast.
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| Alv Fossum |
Liam’s Grandma (Grethe Mikaelsen) is sharp. She is taking care of Grampa Tom (Tom Larsen), who is an invalid, except when he roams the tiny and dusty house. Liam’s room is miniscule and threadbare, but finds a diary from this late mother, (Karoline Stemre), which also contain some photos of her.
In his delusional state due to lack of sleep and whatever else his past has brought to him, Liam is suspicious of Grannie, as her eyes dart around and she almost seems to keep Tom in his place. Or is it all in Liam’s mind? The haunting music leads us towards his perspective.
A nice touch is when Liam is watching a small black and white television in the remote location, and the image is of somnambulist Cesare (Conrad Veidt) in The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1920) is on the screen. Which bring me to the style of the film. As I said, the story is dark and dreary, and the visuals reflect it, often in shadow or extremely muted colors, especially within the musty abode, where much of this was filmed.
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| Grethe Mikaelsen |
Like any good story based on night-terrors, such as the A Nightmare on Elm Street franchise, the main character has dreams within dreams, and he has trouble distinguishing between his sleep world and his reality. I have always liked this premise, and this does a good job of it. And thanks to the deep shadows of the house, there is the opportunity for a number of effective jump scares.
Is this a family curse? Is it all in his head (well his sleeping one)? Or is there something more sinister abound? Liam (and the viewer) tries to figure it all out, fighting through fear, insecurity, and isolation in his cell of a room.
The acting here is excellent, with Fossum clearly being the star, but as far as I am concerned, this is clearly Mikaelsen’s film, stealing every scene in which Grandma occurs.
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| Tom Larsen |
It is also worth noting the scenery. Man, the fjord districts of Norway are beautiful. I had the chance to see it myself a few years ago (around Bodǿ and drive through a bit north of the city) and it is stunning territory. The use of drones gives a better perspective of territory and catches its exquisiteness well.
I have been informed by the director that this was self-produced and shot in four weeks. I find that it looks so good. The house interior sets the perfect mood. It proves that so much can be done with a microbudget ($12,000), dedication, and a good story.
So pull out some lefsa and krumkake (avoid
the lutefisk, in my opinion), and crank this up.
IMDB listing HERE
