TIFF Review: COLD LUNCH (LONSJ)
A note to aspiring film makers: films populated entirely with horrible people are not generally a good time to sit through, no matter how well made they may be. Sure, there are exceptions, films with characters so bad that you get the vicarious thrill of living through them or films that pack a serious emotional catharsis generally, but for the most part it's a pretty tough road to walk. Make those horrible characters all incredibly passive and self absorbed and you've got two big strikes against you.
And, with that, welcome to Cold Lunch, the debut feature from Norway's Eva Sorhaug with a stellar cast of Norway's best and brightest - including the first major screen role for Uno and Hawaii, Oslo star Aksel Hennie in a few years - playing horribly self absorbed people who just generally can't seem to be bothered to make their lives - or anyone else's, for that matter - any better.
Cold Lunch is an ensemble picture in the truest sense, a film that cuts between the stories of three primary protagonists linked by the fact that they live in the same neighborhood. There is Christer (Hennie), the vain college drop out about to be thrown out of his apartment for not paying his rent. There is Heidi, the beautiful young mother trapped in an abusive and horribly co-dependent relationship with her demanding, neglectful husband. And there is Leni, the socially reclusive young girl who may or may not have some sort of mental illness who is forced to make her way out into the big, bad world for the first time when tragedy strikes.
And this is a film where tragedy strikes often. We begin with a rollerblader being struck by a drunk driver - played by Hennie's Uno co-star Nicolai Cleve Broche - and learn all we need to know about where the film is going when the two people in the car show no concern at all for the victim of the accident, instead sitting in the car debating whether they were seen and which of them can better afford to lose their driver's license when the police arrive. People, Cold Lunch argues often and loudly, just don't give a shit.
And speaking of shit, a stray bit of bird shit from a passing gull - gulls being a major motif in the film - launches our main characters down their respective roads when it drops on to Christer's shoulder while he is on the way out of his apartment. His own building's washer being out of service he uses the washer next door - where both Leni and Heidi live - only to shut down the power in the entire building in a panicked frenzy when he realizes that he's left all of his cash in the pocket of the shat upon vest, currently in mid-rinse. The power outage? That stops the dryer cycle, meaning Heidi's husband's pants stay wet, meaning he slaps her around a bit. And when the power comes back on Leni's father and caregiver is struck dead by an electrical shock, leaving Leni without a home as everything was in her father's name.
And so the movie goes. Christer, arrogant without any cause to be, ends up homeless when he can't pay his rent in full, bouncing from friend to friend trying to find someone to lend him some cash. Heidi continues to absorb abuse with a shocking willingness to take the blame upon herself, a situation that makes her sympathetic to a degree until her own self absorption leads to enormously tragic result at film's end. And Leni, Leni simply wanders in a daze, largely at the mercy of those around her, which is not the best place in the world to be.
Cold Lunch flirts with a lot of strong material. It boasts a stellar cast, Sorhaug has a distinctive style behind the camera and there are moments of undeniable power. unfortunately this is a film hobbled by the simple fact that there is nobody at all on the screen to care about. Not a bit. Christer's an ass, Heidi is frustrating in the extreme and frustratingly under written which leaves Leni as the most likely entry point to the film but she is so closed off as to seem nearly alien and doesn't get nearly enough screen time to build a strong presence. It's not so much that Cold Lunch is hard to watch - being emotionally difficult is often the hallmark of excellence - but that it is hard to care about. There's just not enough to invest in and so it makes little impact.
