FILM REVIEW: 'Force Majeure'

"Force majeure" is a French term defined as a "superior or irresistible force." It is also the title of the new film which examines the will to live vs. that of protecting others.

Tomas and Ebba are a Swedish couple vacationing with their two young children at a ski resort in the French Alps. A seemingly picture-perfect family, they all cuddle together in the same hotel bed their first night. The next day while having lunch at an outdoor restaurant nestled in the mountain peaks, they hear a cannon blast. Suddenly, a controlled avalanche goes awry and a cascading wall of snow hurls itself toward the eatery. Patrons scramble madly to avoid its destructive path. Ebba instinctively jumps to protect her children while Tomas runs for safety.

The perceived catastrophe ends up to have been merely "avalanche smoke." No one is injured, in fact, wine glasses haven't even toppled. Upon returning to his family's table, Tomas shrugs off his reaction. But it's quite evident to his wife and children that he abandoned them. As he later on tries to deny their take on the event, cell phone video images surface. The dynamic of his family as a whole are irreversibly altered.
As it all sets in, Tomas' ego slowly shatters. Ebba cannot control her ever increasing doubts as to Tomas' masculinity. And the children can't help hiding the fear that their parent's relationship is doomed. But is it?
Swedish director-writer Ruben Ostland masterfully chronicles this family in crisis. The conversations between Ebba (Lisa Loven Kongsli) and Tomas (Johannes Kuhnke) are brilliantly constructed by means of injecting of humor into their painful perceptions. By providing friend's reactions to Tomas' behavior, we get a real feel for the dichotomy of the situation. To compliment a strong script, Ostland's visuals are astounding, especially the avalanche shot. Stark, soundless white-outs are eerie and wonderful to behold. And infrequent scoring serves to create a realistically intimate portrait of a marriage coming apart.

Kuhnke and Kongsli play off one another perfectly. What must have been a difficult balancing act is handled with a steadfastness that makes this remarkable film work. Each manages to evoke a sense of uncontrollable sadness that permeates every moment they're on screen.

"Force Majeure" can't help but provoke the nagging question of how we might react under such circumstances. Ostland seems to think that it's an impossibility to predict. As Tomas sadly admits toward the end of the film, "I'm a victim of my own instincts."