Force Majeure
Turist

Force Majeure, the forth feature film from Swedish writer/director Ruben Östlund (formerly a documentarian specializing in ski movies), is one of the best films about marriage to come along in ages. We don’t get enough challenging pictures about what happens after the happily-ever-after scenes that conclude most relationship movies, but many of the best examples are made by the Swedes—Östlund’s countryman Ingmar Bergman practically built his career exploring the complexities of marriage and family life.  Force Majeure follows a seemingly normal, happy, middle-class Swedish family on holiday in a French ski resort. The film’s early scenes are pregnant with the ominous vibe of a natural disaster movie. We sense something terrible is going to happen to this family as they ski the calm, silent, pristine slopes, but when it does, the “something terrible” comes in an unexpected form. Force Majeure is in fact a kind of disaster movie, but the devastation visited upon this family has less to do with a naturally occurring environmental phenomenon then with the fallout from instinctual human behavior.

The film has a wonderfully cold and austere quality to it reminiscent of a Michael Haneke film--indeed if that controversial Austrian director ever made a comedy it would probably play much like Force Majeure. Exposition is spare in the film’s first 10 minutes, but Östlund conveys everything we need to know about this family and brilliantly foreshadows the film’s themes with an acute eye for detail. The event that incites the principal actions, questions, and themes is riveting and spectacularly photographed but, again, Östlund wants the audience to focus on the subtle details of the incident that can easily be missed, rather than the grand scale of his imagery. The feelings of mistrust, uncertainty, fear, disappointment, and anger that run through both the couple and their children throughout the rest of the picture are expressed with very few words--especially at first. This minimalism in dialogue enables the audience to infer everything that’s going on in the character’s minds and also makes for a compelling counterpoint with the vast expansive vistas that the family silently skis through.

The graceful sequences on the slopes are every bit as powerful as the intense scenes in the enclosed rooms of the ski lodge. Östlund introduces just the perfect number of secondary characters into the mix to present alternative examples of how couples communicate and navigate difficulties in their relationships. His sly and subtle commentary about marriage and gender identity in contemporary society is spot on. Force Majeure makes the point that honest and consistent communication is critical for a relationship to survive a challenge, but also explores how having those frank, difficult discussions often opens a deep and complex wound or can send a couple spiraling down an emotional hole that can be difficult to climb out of. The juxtaposition of communication and relational styles in the various couples that populate the film illustrates why, when it comes to certain troublesome topics, so many individuals choose not to “go there” with their spouses. But the film also gets to the heart of why most individuals can’t ignore the gnawing, unexpressed feelings we all try to suppress.