Some of the most exciting films of the last few years are coming out of Scandinavia. In this decade alone, we’ve gotten Godland and Touch from Iceland, seen Thomas Vinterberg come back to the cinematic forefront with Another Round, and from Norway we’ve gotten new classics from Joachim Trier and Ruben Ӧstlund. So, if you’re like me, and you caught the trailer for Armand, you’re excited at the prospect of a new Norwegian film, especially starring the electric Renate Reinsve (The Worst Person in the World, A Different Man). Not to mention that director Halfdan Ullmann Tøndel (making his feature debut) worked with Trier on 2017’s Thelma (no, not that one). While Armand’s script has some weaknesses, it’s a visually pleasing film, with some strong moments, and is anchored by a wonderful lead performance by Reinsve.
She plays Elisabeth, an actor (with some level of celebrity) who gets a call from her son Armand’s school to tell her he is in trouble. When she arrives at the school, she finds it’s much more serious than she expected. His cousin Jon has allegedly accused Armand of sexually assaulting him. Jon’s parents already know about the incident and have brought most of the incriminating claims to the school. Elisabeth is shocked and in disbelief at first, but she quickly becomes angry when it seems everyone has decided the allegations are true. Since both boys are only six, it is difficult to ascertain the facts, but she has heard nothing of this from Armand and feels it’s out of character for him. It becomes clear after some time that Elisabeth’s celebrity, her husband’s recent tragic death, and personal rancor with her sister-in-law (Jon’s mother) have affected the way everyone perceives both her and her son. The question becomes whether they are unfairly judging her, or whether this trauma may have trickled down to her son in ways she couldn’t expect.
Tøndel directs with a sure hand, his composition and color choices are vibrant and at times exciting. There’s something visually about the film that seems simultaneously bright and dark, which is not only interesting to look at, but builds on the conflicting views of the different parents. The visual tone is well set and the film moves forward smoothly, with a few hiccups.
The performances are solid, but Reinsve stands out, partially because she’s given the most to do. As a public figure on the verge of breakdown (or perhaps who has broken down many times in recent years), her anger and fragility wrestle with each other, keeping us guessing which will win out in any given moment. In one particular moment, she begins laughing hysterically while the teachers detail how to move forward in light of the abuse. It’s not a funny moment, and it’s allowed to go on for an uncomfortably long time. No one knows what to do, least of all Elisabeth, and letting the awkward pain of the moment blossom is an excellent directorial decision.
Another notable performance comes from Thea Lambrechts Vaulen as Sunna, the only teacher who gives Elisabeth the benefit of a doubt. Ironically, she’s accused of being smitten by Elisabeth’s celebrity, when in reality she seems to be the only one not using Elisabeth’s past or fame as a means to prejudge her. Sunna is a young teacher, eager to please, but clearly cracking under the pressure of such a troubling issue, and Vaulen plays it very well. Ellen Dorrit Peterson, who plays Sarah, gives a solid performance as well, but is held back a bit by the thin character she’s given. It’s here that some of the weaknesses in the writing start to come through.
While the film has something thematically poignant to say, it doesn’t feel as if it’s saying it effectively. It also bears the unfortunate comparison to similar films – Thomas Vinterberg’s The Hunt follows a teacher accused of misconduct by students, and last year’s The Teacher’s Lounge is the story of a teacher trying to curb injustice at her school, who becomes accused of the same misjustice herself. Both of these are stronger films in that they lead with subtlety and build the tension as they go along. Armand starts with the big shocking accusation but doesn’t have a lot of room to go from there. It turns into a he said/she said situation with little new information arriving until the end. Elisabeth’s shock and breakdown in the process are effective, but they don’t add to the story or build the tension. The script also doesn’t do enough to keep us waffling back and forth about what happened (see also Anatomy of a Fall, which did this wonderfully). We come in immediately on Elisabeth’s side, and we stay there. When revelations come that Sarah may not be telling the whole truth, we’re way ahead of them by this point.
Another thing to mention, for good or ill, are the dance sequences (you heard me right). At two points in the film there are sort of interpretive dance numbers, ostensibly to suggest Elisabeth’s state of mind. While they’re good in and of themselves, they comprise such a small part of the movie that it creates too strange a tonal shift. If they were woven throughout, like a musical, I’d accept it more. Here, they seem more like an afterthought.
Despite some faults in the script, Armand is an enjoyable psychological drama, well directed and featuring strong performances. While it may not keep you guessing, it will keep you engaged.
