From January 14th to the 22nd, 2015 the Film Society of Lincoln Center will be hosting the retrospective, In Case of No Emergency: The Films of Ruben Östlund, a welcome survey of the work of one of the most promising contemporary filmmakers.

 

A couple of years ago, at the New York Film Festival’s press screening of the director’s astonishing second feature, Play — about three Swedish boys that are menaced by a group of what appear to be African and Arab youths — I had the impression within the first few minutes that I was encountering the work of a potential master, and by the film’s end this intuition was satisfyingly confirmed. I am pleased to report that Play amply rewards a second viewing, its absorbing intricacies resounding with even greater resonance.

 

in Play, Östlund profitably emulates the example of the great Michael Haneke who has exploited the long take to disturbing, if powerful effect; here, the director’s style is more systematic, rigorously eschewing cutting within scenes, thus achieving a mesmerizing, Bazinian ambiguity, along with a remarkable fusion of form and content. In narrative structure and rhythm, Östlund doesn’t attempt to reproduce the forward momentum found in some Haneke films, preferring a more episodic, Rosselinian trajectory. Shot in a winter with overcast skies, the filmmaker deploys the digital format here impressively, while drawing uniformly strong work from his non-professional cast. Play screens at least once per day throughout the retrospective, in a one-week exclusive run.

 

Some precedents for what is special about Play can be found in the director’s previous Involuntary (a mini-portrait of contemporary Sweden which resists summary for its multiple narrative strands), such as its evident fascination with the discomfort engendered by violations of moral norms and breaches of etiquette as well as its formally strict, sequence-shot style and non-classical narrative. The film too is characterized by Östlund’s consistently fierce observational intelligence as well as his bracing confidence with actors. The one weakness here is the use of digital, which is not technically adequate to the filmmaker’s vision. Involuntary plays at least once a day, every day, for the duration of the retrospective, in a one-week exclusive run.

 

Force Majeure, one of the better reviewed films of last year, about a family at an Alpine ski resort dealing with the consequences of an avalanche, doesn’t quite sustain the same force as Play, although it certainly is a notable work. Stylistically, this is admirably controlled — Östlund’s sometimes unconventional framing is especially fine — but freer in technique than the previous film, while still departing from a classical approach to storytelling. Force Majeure is distinctive for mining a vein of humor and displaying a lighter touch than was clearly evident in Play. The director’s work here with actors is, again, exemplary, as is his command of the digital medium. Force Majeure will screen seven times, giving New Yorkers a second chance to either encounter or revisit this unusual film.