22 July, 2018.
Written and Directed by Paul Greengrass.
Starring Anders Danielsen Lie, Jonas Strand Gravli, Jon Øigarden, Thorbjørn Harr, Seda Witt, and Trim Balaj.
SYNOPSIS:
A three-part story of Norway’s worst terrorist attack in which over seventy people were killed. 22 July looks at the disaster itself, the survivors, Norway’s political system and the lawyers who worked on this horrific case.
22 July is at once a vile recreation of an extremist right-wing terrorist attack (Norway’s deadliest ever), something so revoltingly disturbing and stomach-churning to watch with each senseless death at the hands of the cold, unsettlingly calm, and unquestionably psychopathic Anders Behring Breivik (Anders Danielsen Lie so strong in every little detail the role demands that his performance crashes through the ceiling as too real, which I suppose is appropriate considering the gritty, raw, and relentlessly realistic portrayal of the tragic events), but writer and director Paul Greengrass’ deft control eventually and wisely transitions the proceedings into an exploration of the survivors and fallout from the country (both civilian and government) in turn moderately justifying the existence of what, no hyperbole, for a while was one of the most challenging viewing experiences of my entire life.
Roughly, the first 30 minutes of 22 July places central focus on the attack, which follows the meticulous planning and a quick look at the introverted and isolated personality of Breivik, shortly jumping right into his caused explosion of a towering building and the subsequent aftermath to that where he dons police attire (rounding out the gear with some heavy artillery) for the purpose of coaxing his way onto a ferry headed to a summer camp (dedicated to young ambitious teenagers looking to make a positive difference in Norway), with the sole disgusting goal of remorselessly murdering as many of them that unfortunately find themselves in his path before being taken down and into custody. It’s sick stuff, and for anyone of the mind that we as a society should be doing everything not to give attention to these disturbed individuals, again, it makes one question if even adapting something so horrifying is even morally acceptable. All it’s doing is giving Breivik more infamous notoriety, which I’m sure is something he probably loves as he rots away in solitary confinement.
Based on Åsne Seierstad’s book One of Us, 22 July contains multiple perspectives, with the most inspiring and emotionally rewarding arc following a teenager named Viljar (Jonas Strand Gravli) who suffered critical gunfire injuries at the hands of the mass murderer. Left for dead, Viljar luckily is transferred to a nearby hospital and, following various invasive brain surgeries to remove bullet shrapnel lodged near very sensitive areas that could drastically alter his memory and more, is rendered stable but not without serious loss of movement in his left arm, a missing eye, and serious danger of further injury from even the slightest of head damage (not all of the bullets were able to be removed, with parts of the procedure being deemed far too risky and life-threatening).
Across the coming months leading up to Breivik’s trial (which sees the killer changing his mind from pleading insanity to actually wanting to be held accountable for his actions, vehemently professing his detest for immigration, multi-culturing, and general leftist leaning principles), 22 July evolves into a character study of the three different perspectives. As sinful and dirty feeling as it is to watch, the interactions between Breivik and his personally requested lawyer are unnervingly inviting to watch, whereas watching Viljar go through the PTSD motions and slowly overcome some of those things is equally fascinating but obviously for very different reasons. That leaves us with the study of Norway’s government and reactions to the terrorist attacks, which are fine but not exactly interesting; the most I took out of it was a nice reminder of how a real leader conducts himself following a disaster.
The manner in which all of these aspects unfold heavily leans into thriller territory, which most definitely suits Paul Greengrass’ talents as a filmmaker but is yet another element that sours the movie with an aura of ugliness. It’s understandable that the narrative wants to dive into the delusional and fractured mental psyche of Breivik, but the competent direction, acting, and praiseworthy craft are, in some ways, not enough to forgive the sensation that some of the same themes could have been examined in a more tasteful and respective way. Essentially, 22 July is Paul Greengrass applying his greatest skills as a filmmaker to a harrowing true tragedy that probably should have just been a documentary, especially considering many aspects ranging from the character interactions to the unfiltered look at surgical procedures already elicit that vibe.
At 143 minutes, the rest of the film feels too long as well but for different reasons; the first act is difficult to get through because of the extended tour of the sinister actions, whereas when things slow down there comes a point where we just want the trial date to arrive already. Admittedly, what happens there is unmistakably moving and a fitting ending for a story that has and continues to affects many, but subplots such as what the government goes through comes across as superfluous. Juxtaposing Breivik with Viljar is more than enough and would make for an overall tighter and intimate product, and likely a shorter movie. Again, all of that only applies if you can last through the opening act without getting nauseous to the point of shutting the movie off. 22 July won’t be for everyone, but there’s no denying that Paul Greengrass has made a solid effort to explore these horrifying events in a way that doesn’t outright offend even if the film’s existence will forever be debatable. Nonetheless, the results remain compelling.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★
Robert Kojder is a member of the Chicago Film Critics Association and the Flickering Myth Reviews Editor. Check here for new reviews, friend me on Facebook, follow my Twitter or Letterboxd, check out my personal non-Flickering Myth affiliated Patreon, or email me at MetalGearSolid719@gmail.com
Originally published October 7, 2018. Updated November 24, 2019.
