In Aslaug Holm's gorgeously shot documentary on her own children - make no mistake, this is no home movie, but a rigorous 16mm film production by a veteran filmmaker - a recurring image is laundry hanging out on the line on the breezy Norwegian coast. In a sense Holm is airing her laundry figuratively as well, in Brothers, a decade long project capturing her two boys, Lukas and Markus, from ages 5 and 8 all the way into their teenage years.
The sparse images, photographs and film, Holm possesses of herself as a child, and even less media her own parents and extended family, led the urge preserve her offspring on film in a way that captures the hopes and dreams of children when their future remains completely ahead of them. The document she herself never had. She is not shy of bringing herself into the film, insofar as a reminder of the strings and mirrors of doing this sort of activity amongst the bustle of family life. As any good scientist knows, to observe an experiment is to affect the results in some capacity, and Holm and her camera factor into the frame honestly.
Markus loves soccer, and there are many shots of him practicing on a dirt pitch with his father and younger brother. Lukas has a more love-hate-love relationship with sports in general that is summed up with another recurring shot, that of the boys on the edge of a dock-house daring to jump into the water (as metaphors go, it's powerfully obvious in that it is both obvious and powerful) at various ages.
Controlled or not, the photography does capture precious, ephemeral moments as they breeze by on invisible rhythms of passing time - made visible though the power of cinema. For those seeking the 'documentary version of Richard Linklater's Boyhood,' some expectations will be met, others will be properly defied. Brothers is unquestionably its own film in style and intent; not the least of which are the cultural differences from America to Norway. And yet easily recognizable universalities of human existence are on display in equal measure between fictional film and documentary alike.
Holm gives equal weight to big moments as the small ones, the first day at a new school, getting an ear pierced, a preparing for a romantic date, and university enrollment all factor into the documentary. But it is the smaller moments that resonate. Yes, young boys on this planet still spit and swear to look tough. The brothers fight (trading football cards or candy) and co-operate to build a snowman. These scenes paint the picture just enough enough so that we might begin to convince ourselves that we know the eddy and flow of their sibling dynamic.
As Markus waits until his straight-laced father sees that pierced ear, and the nervous energy is palpable. Lukas' rebelling and insolence in school is equally compelling. One wonders what the schoolmasters and teachers thought of this project as Lukas was losing his shit in the classroom. Holm captures things on the razors-edge of objective and compassion. The boys often get mad at her constant filming. This is truth. It is noteworthy that long stretches do pass where life may have gotten in the way of this project, stretches of time appear to be lost, but the result is nevertheless superb.
The final repeated image in Holm's repertoire are the two boys in a rowboat on calm waters. Is this foresight or simply a parent's hopes and dreams?