Force Majeure (2014) [Guest Writer] (5 stars)

Curzon’s August 2023 blu-ray collection release of Ruben Östlund’s six feature films is heavily discounted on Amazon UK’s Black Friday sale at the time of writing (only 1000 numbered copies exist). The beautiful box set includes a darkly comical card game and some wickedly amusing mini-posters. 

Having thoroughly enjoyed ‘Triangle of Sadness’ through streaming, I was eager to check out other works of the Swedish director. Force Majeure is considered one of Ruben’s best films on the fan forums. The film follows the day-by-day ski holiday of a Swedish family on vacation at the French Alps. Each day is its own chapter heading.

Seamless green screen trickery produces one of the most memorable and visually spectacular scenes of an approaching avalanche (an intentional selling point), but the film is not an action film, nor a power fantasy with spontaneous Hollywood heroism. Expectations are subverted by instead quietly exploring the existential aftermath of the unwelcome triggering of “unmanly” survival instincts. 

Whereas conscription for armed forces relies on selling young men the romantic ideal of fearless warriors who give up their lives for family and fatherland, the biological reality is different: on board the sinking Titanic and Estonia, men trampled on the corpses of their female and child compatriots to get out fast enough to survive. Evolution favours effective survival, not sentimentality nor societal duties of protection.

Tomas, the devoted father of two children, instinctively flees a restaurant terrace (picking up his mobile phone and wallet) when it seems that a controlled avalanche is about to wipe out himself and his family. This is a split-second reaction that is not malicious nor premeditated. He is innocent of any conscious wrongdoing. Without much discussion, the lunch is resumed once the snowy dust settles and panic is averted. However, internally something has irrevocably changed in Tomas’s relationship with his wife, Ebba, who is surprised by the difference between her instincts and his.

Upon later confronting the husband’s mishap via the levity of humour during a lunch with friends, the husband finds himself deeply humiliated and in primordial denial of reality : “You are entitled to your opinion, but I just don’t agree with that particular interpretation at all”, he says. The different interpretations of reality get hashed out in the hotel corridor, trying in vain to hide the tensions from the kids, Vera and Harry. The comically blank stares of a male cleaner descend upon them in the modern wood-laden open-plan hallway. Ebba would be willing to forgive the issue if only Tomas were to own up to his cowardice openly (to prevent a mismatch of realities) — but such an admission would destroy Tomas’s societal masks, and he is too afraid of what he might find beneath his own skin.

A second couple, Mats and Fanni, witnesses Ebba’s worsening emotional breakdowns, with some awkwardness and feelings of superiority/pity, over a cosy dinner. Ebba proceeds to mortify Tomas by proving his guilt with video evidence. The glibness of Mats and Fanni (who just assume that Tomas and Ebba need a forgiving wider perspective with a dash of psychotherapy) is short-lived : as if by contagion, they soon find themselves compulsively debating all night about hypothetical comparisons of their own flawed relationship to that of Tomas and Ebba. They disagree on whether one generation of men would behave differently than another. All humans are flawed, with a more sinister vulnerability reserved for those people who arrogantly assume that they are less flawed than their peers.  

A different friend, Charlotte, has gone on holiday without her kids and husband, under an arrangement of ‘open marriage’ — she is there to look for short-term male attention to take a break from the responsibilities of family life. Ebba cannot begin to understand Charlotte’s carefree lack of prudence in family matters. 

The friends and fellow couples serve as a mirror and yardstick for Tomas and Ebba to compare, contrast and confess their incredulities, looking (in vain) for simplistic validation of their damaged thoughts. 

Tomas is eventually forced to confront his hidden, subconscious features, to his own disgust — literally exposing his weaknesses to himself in third person : “I can no longer live with a man who has such instincts”, he cries in undertones of Shakespearean melodrama, melting into a sobbing puddle on the hotel room floor. In Freudian terms, his ego ideal (within the superego) has been challenged, causing dramatic damage to his ego. Meanwhile, the kids misbehave and rebel in silly ways, fearing an imminent divorce. They command the parents to leave them alone and to allow them enjoy ice cream for breakfast. 

In the funniest scene of the film, Tomas and Mats are enjoying a beer by some sun-loungers (some viewers may suspect that a homoerotic bonding will occur between the two disgraced male leads — although this aspect only gets mildly hinted at, and then gets abandoned). A beautiful young woman tells Tomas that her female friend considers him the best-looking man at the hotel. A few minutes of ego-repair pass by, until the same lady comes back to apologise that she got the person wrong : the compliment was actually intended for another man. The only way to repair one’s ego is by one’s own decisions and one’s future actions.

The film is a dry, sarcastic, and awkward black comedy, with an extremely consistent and realistic style. The acting is superbly natural (reminding me of that in Asghar Farhadi’s ‘A Separation’ (2011)). Behind-the-scenes footage on the blu-ray extras reveals that the director kept gently motivating the actors for better takes (over several days of rehearsal) until scenes felt truly organic and natural.

Ominous classical music (Vivaldi’s Four Seasons) and dreamy close-ups of controlled slopeside explosions work together with painting-like compositions of mountains to blend psychological landscapes with the physical. The familiar world takes on an alien look — the introduction of a family-operated drone toy is done without explicit explanation, with the viewer seeing an alien spaceship hovering over the inky stillness of the Alps. 

The conclusion of the film is both comically and existentially satisfying, while remaining open-ended about what is happening. It gives the audience plenty of scope to debate about truth and meaning (as with The Burning (2018) by Lee Chang-Dong). Force Majeure has a more generous outlook and a clear message of hope.

I know that Force Majeure has a poorly reviewed remake called ‘Downhill’ (2020) starring Will Ferrell (rated at 36% fresh on Rotten Tomatoes, as opposed to the 93% of the Swedish original). Apparently the trailer is a scene-by-scene copy of the original trailer. I assume that this edition of the film is utterly redundant, as with the Korean film ‘Oldboy’ and other unnecessary Hollywood remakes. Another explanation for the poor ratings would be that the Hollywood target audience expects raucous and brainless popcorn entertainment (sorry for the generalisation), and bounce off a slow, thoughtful and ‘boring’ art film. Expectations matter.

If you enjoy ‘microcosm’-movies, where the drama lies in the disillusionment of minds rather than external action and events, then you will love Force Majeure. A great comparison is to ‘Banshees of Inisherin’ : both films have an incredible sense of style and purpose from start to finish, with the real conflicts being the existential ones (misalignment of private realities leading to interpersonal breakdown). If you are easily bored with films that are quiet and philosophical (Polanski’s dialogue-heavy films that use a limited number of sets), you will probably be bored out of your mind here too. I absolutely loved Force Majeure, and I was forming theories of my own (about our species) throughout the watch.

In the blu-ray extras, the film-makers camp at the Trump hotel in 2015, in anticipation of an Oscar nomination for best foreign film. When it does not arrive, they descend into a state of man-sobs and swearing (it is ambiguous whether this clip is a truthful documentary or merely a darkly comedic skit, self-referential to the ego-themes of the film itself). Another great film, the Argentine gem ‘Relatos Salvajes’ (Wild Tales), won the Oscar that year. It’s tough work trying to get public forms of recognition sometimes.

Ruben Östlund’s later films did receive Oscar nominations (Best Director and Best Original Screenplay for Triangle of Sadness in 2023, and Best International Feature Film for The Square in 2018). In the brief ‘making of’, the director is unusually forthcoming and transparent about the thematic motivations for his film (he is refreshingly unpretentious — however, his answers do diminish the delight that can be garnered from open interpretation and mystery, so please consume with caution). 

The picture quality on the blu-ray is excellent (stunning hues of white and blue), and the sound is an absolutely incredible DTS 5.1 HD for the home theatre (with soul-stirring explosions and background hums), however English subtitles are baked into the image with no customisability-options (English-language scenes are not subtitled).

- Nicholas Korpelainen