Sånger från andra våningen (2000) Reviews

• a modernist masterpiece

  the red duchess2001-03-15

  One of capitalism's favourite pretences, especially when making bogeymen of alternative ideologies, is that is is natural, the obvious orientation for any society, the inevitable result of progress, while all other systems are theoretical, foreign, applied. 'Songs from the Second floor', which could be subtitled 'Fall of the Western Empire', takes this assumption literally , and makes late capitalism the natural environment in which its drama plays itself out. The ethics of capitalism are figured in architecture, in the way people compartmentalise and miniaturise their lives, the way they treat other humans, the mechanical way they move. The film's look is updated Kafka - the nightmarish bureaucracy, the endless corridors, where the individual is arbitrarily humiliated, furtively watched by a frightened audience behind adjacent doors. The recurrent motif of the film, besides the endless triangles, is of frames - there is not a single composition that doesn't give onto other frames: windows, doorways, corridors, elevators, streets, etc. - like a kaleidoscope, the mere switching on of a light can radically reconfigure these spatial arrangements. This might seem to open up a very claustrophobic world, suggesting another world beyond the rigid frame we watch; rather, it creates a hall of mirrors effect, one world reflecting itself, in a whole city, society, culture - a never-ending repetition of the same lifeless tableaux that comprise this way of life; a prison literalised in the infantilising case of the senile military commander. Because this way of life is made to seem natural, feeding into the very buildings in, and gestures with, which people live, its collapse is not sparked by an external force, but results in an implosion of the environment, buildings toppling, the ground tilting like a sinking ship, the body, mind and society breaking down, a whole world grinding towards sterility and inertia. This is where Andersson's career as the 'world's greatest advertising director' (dit Bergman) comes in. Normally a career in advertising results in films of glossy shallowness. Andersson takes a theme of Fellinian decadence - think 'Satyricon', 'Casanova', 'Ship of Fools' - where a sophisticated society begins to decline, where immutable buildings begin to crumble, crowd hysteria is let loose, where public rites frame primitive barbarism (the sacrifice of young girls to appease the pagan gods) are all filmed like an Ikea advertisement, full of antiseptic sheen. The film could be described as 'The FAst Show' directed by Bunuel. The narrative consists of connected, but self-contained vignettes or sketches with a recurring set of characters. Most of them would be simply funny jokes in a TV show - the magician who really saws a volunteer's chest etc. All have the concentrated brevity of an advert, all the visual imagination and surprise necessary to capture the viewer's attention. But what the film is advertising is the decline of a soulless consumer society, a society where the minimalist surroundings reflect minimalist humanity, where human relationships (especially in families) are grotesquely alienated. Despite its post-modern sheen, the film's source are very - gloriously old-fashioned modernist or classic auteurist - Fellini (especially the scene at the airport, where the escapees are bogged down by bulging luggage), Dreyer (the sensitive poet gone mad because of his society); Godard (the apocalyptic traffic jam and barbaric bourgeois behaviour); Antonioni. BUt the presiding spirit is Bunuel, with the 'Milky Way'/'Phantom of Liberty'-like surrealist picaresque narrative, full of bourgeois-baiting and random violence; the 'Exterminating Angel' scene where the civic and clerical worthies are paralysed in the hotel, frothing like distempered dogs; the perverse anti-clericism that convincingly creates a vision of hell climaxing in an ambiguous scene of resurrection (the crouching crowd in the fields) and despair (the rubbish heap of crucifixes). What Andersson truly shares with Bunuel, however, is a skewed comedy, never letting the Big Themes get in the way of the rich detail - the wonderful scene with the tramp, rats and ex-girlfriend especially. For all its alienated style and dehumanisation, 'Songs', like Bunuel, is devastatingly, humanly angry, and somehow very moving. the meticulous smoothness of the filming actually creates an oppressive violence in the viewer, a desire to smash the whole glasshouse down.

• Cartoonish

  tedg2004-08-10

  Spoilers herein. No, this is not cartoonish as the term is commonly used to mean simplified or childish. Instead, I mean it as stained glass artists did to imply the evocation of something by merely providing the outline. Such cartoons were considered magical, giving meaning to something not by actually defining it, but by defining what separates it from the rest of the world. It is a special kind of abstraction, not one normally used in art and even more seldom (alas) in formal systems. Here it is done effortlessly and effectively. This is not a `surreal' film, as many have described. I suppose they mean to say it is strange. But surrealism is the creation of worlds whose underlying mechanics or metaphysics are different, other than `real.` The art in surrealism is usually focused on what isn't different. This is instead abstraction. The objects in this world are a bit strange but the whole point is that the underlying physics is the same to which we are subject. The art in such cases is usually a matter of insight by strange light. This bears more resemblance philosophically to Roddenberry than Bunuel. And that qualifies it as serious enough to pay attention to. Past that point, I abandon it. That's because it really is true to the Bergman tradition that imparted despair is a worthwhile endeavor. Not for me. But I must admit that the last scene is really very fine. Few movies know how to end, and almost no one does it well. This, my friends is done well. I can recommend sitting through the entire thing then stopping right before that last scene. Take a few days and clear your soul, refreshing yourself. Then go back and experience the visitation of all that has come before, but this way you can see it as the stained glass it is and not a morbid essay on gloom. This is a world, incidentally where you (the camera) does not move, but the buildings and meadows do. Ted's Evaluation -- 2 of 3: Has some interesting elements.

• Bizarre and brilliant

  Beast-52005-02-03

  SONGS FROM THE SECOND FLOOR is honestly one of the best films I have seen so far in my years of cinematic appreciation. Alice, below, nailed it in her analysis, and there's little I can add that would be useful. I also agree with the critics who compared it to what would happen if Monty Python set their sights on Bergman. The film is both a character study and a meditation on humanity, filled with transcendent moments of beauty that left me completely stunned. It is also a biting satire of corporate greed and its effects on society, and the search for hope in a dying, empty world filled with people who've basically given up. SONGS is a great film that everybody should see.

• "Slapstick Bergman" indeed

  -882003-06-13

  One critic described this film as being "Slapstick Ingmar Bergman"; it's a great joke, and in many ways a true one. I've never seen a movie like this before, and I haven't laughed so hard at one in years. Every single scene has something off-beat or funny happening in it, so that you may want to see it more than once. (I watched it twice in one day!) The best bit occurs when the businesspeople decide on a rash course of action to save the faltering economy. I won't spoil it for you but trust me, it's one of the blackest comic moments in all of film. Don't miss it!

• an extraordinary examination of a society not so far away

  axel-322001-02-28

  I have only seen this movie once and that is certainly not enough. The pictures contain more than our perception can handle. The general impression of the film is however, that Roy Andersson has performed a splendid diagnosis of our society, a society whose individuals no longer communicate, no longer interact. He shows us the result of a system that proclaims egoism and neglect. The message is clear: Only together, people can find a way to endure the tragedy of life, only together, we can enjoy the small fragments of happiness that life offers. I encourage all non-Swedish people to see this film, 99,84% of the world population is not Swedish. This movie concerns all of you.