TIFF Review: WHITE NIGHT WEDDING
Iceland’s Baltasar Kormakur has built a sizable following around the globe – and here at ScreenAnarchy – on the strength of a number of taut, intelligent thrillers. Films that challenge and reward their audience with the intelligence and subtlety of their storytelling. And so while White Night Wedding represents a major change of pace for the Nordic auteur, as he steps into the world of the tragic-comedy, it should come as no surprise that that same sense of intelligence and emotional honesty makes the film one of the absolute strongest to come out of the Nordic region all year.
Jon and Thora are getting married. It should be a happy time, but, well, there are issues. No, not just the fact that Jon’s parents can’t seem to find their way to the wedding or that Thora’s mother has the makings a truly horrific in-law, though both of those are true. No, it’s not even that there’s a significant age gap between the two or that Jon is in debt to Thora’s parents, though that’s true as well. No, there’s something a fair bit thornier going on.
You see, Jon has been married before. Jon was still married, in fact, in the days when Thora was a student in one of his university lectures. Married still when it turned out that the remote island Jon and his wife moved to for the sake of her health also happened to be Thora’s home. Not particularly happily married at that point, and with the couple struggling to cope with his wife’s severe depression, but married nonetheless. You can likely fill in what happened.
And so Jon’s got guilt. Thora’s determined to save him. Thora’s mother hates and distrusts him. The village reverend seems to generally dislike everyone. And Jon’s best friend just wants an excuse to get ripping drunk.
Balance comedy with a true sense of drama and tragedy is a difficult tak to set yourself, probably one of the most difficult there is, but Kormakur attempts exactly that here and he pulls it off with one of the most satisfyingly complex and nuanced scripts of his career. While the bursts of comedy are indeed very funny, Kormakur resists going for the easy laugh, instead focusing on building realistic, full blooded characters and letting things go where they may. And where they go is into territory that is by turns dark, absurd and tragic – a whole lot like life.
Kormakur’s entire cast is exceptionally strong, their interactions ringing entirely true throughout without even a single mis-step. And, as always with this man, the technical end is flawless. Iceland is a place loaded with dramatic natural imagery and absolutely nobody knows how to make better use of it than Kormakur who fills every frame with simply gorgeous work.
Complex relationship films like this tend not to travel particularly widely, distributors reluctant to take a shot on something that doesn’t have a convenient genre hook to market it around. But this is one film that truly deserves to be given a shot, truly deserves to be seen. Heartfelt, funny, truthful, it’s just solid on all counts.
[And, Swarez, who were the band in the guest house? Fantastic stuff and I want to hear more.]
