Thelma, 2017.
Directed by Joachim Trier.
Starring Eili Harboe, Kaya Wilkins, Henrik Rafaelson, Ellen Dorrit Petersen, and Grethe Eltervag.
SYNOPSIS:
Newly arrived at college, Thelma finds it hard to settle in: her parents are constantly on the phone and she’s not making any friends. After suffering a mysterious seizure in the library, she becomes close to one of the students who helped her and comes out of her shell. Tests fail to establish the reason for her seizures, but she soon becomes aware that they’re a symptom of greater personal power.
After his first venture into English with Louder Than Bombs (2015), Joachim Trier reverts to his home territory and language – Danish – in Thelma, but switches genre dramatically. From a film about memory that delved deeply into its characters, he’s taken a sharp turn towards the supernatural and added a dash of subtle horror.
The opening scene immediately signposts a key moment in the latter stages of the film. A little girl and her father are walking through the winter landscape, firstly over a frozen lake where she watches the fish swimming underneath the ice, and then in the forest. He takes aim at a deer but, unbeknown to the girl, changes his target and points his rifle directly at her. It’s the first of a number of questions the director throws out at the audience: in this instance, it’s one that actually gets an answer, unlike many others which are left frustratingly open-ended. There are simply too many of them, giving the film a sense of being unfinished and only partially thought through.
Thelma’s (an appealing Eili Harboe) mysterious powers don’t really make sense to anybody, let alone the girl herself. But they do mean that, if she really wants to and regardless of the reason, she can eradicate people. It’s a bit like Carrie, but without the prom or all that blood. She’s a prolific dreamer and they’re laden with a certain amount of significance, particularly with symbolic wildlife – there’s an especially sensual snake. In fact, insects, animals and especially birds are usually the prelude to another seizure – that, or something more sinister. In a Hitchcockian way, she’d do well to stay away from birds altogether.
Her relationship with her over-protective, deeply religious parents is one of the most convincing aspects of a film that otherwise drags its feet. Her father, Trond (Henrik Rafaelson) is a doctor, but the way he practises medicine is highly suspect: he treated Thelma with strong drugs when she was a child. He is nothing short of creepy but his wheelchair bound wife Unni (Ellen Dorrit Petersen) is dependent on him and totally under the proverbial thumb. Watching the way they are determined to run Thelma’s life evokes Philip Larkin’s most famous line. And he’s not wrong.
There’s enough interest in the way of ideas and themes, alongside some nice camera work. Trier has a particular liking for aerial shots of people, zooming in gradually and keeping you guessing until the last-minute as to who is the real focus of the shot. So it makes it all the more disappointing that the film is so slow and low-key that it really never takes off. The potential is there for real tension and mystery, but instead all it manages is the occasional tingle and a sense of irritation at yet another loose end left dangling in mid-air. The efforts of the cast and, indeed, Trier himself are almost all for nought.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★
Freda Cooper. Follow me on Twitter.
Originally published October 31, 2017. Updated April 11, 2018.
