Play is one of those rare experiences that reveals it’s bold message and mastery in hindsight, but while you are in it you feel extreme discomfort for a wealth of reasons. The static camera, the near real-time narrative, minimal sound design and everything that unfolds on screen all builds a feeling of emptiness, inevitability and, most of all, a starkly real world. These factors all build up to enhance the comprehension of meaning but, to be honest, it also resulted in me actively disliking the experience of watching it. However, in hindsight, I feel masterfully manipulated as I now understand that this is exactly what we are meant to feel as it perfectly mirrors how we would feel witnessing such acts in real life (essentially viewing an extended mugging of one group of non-national descendants to a smaller group of nationals). In such a way discomfort becomes a device, eliciting such a rarely felt emotional reaction into us. This makes the message all the more accessible and powerful as the message intermingles with a personal reaction instead of remaining purely conceptual.
The film opens with an extremely long take, zooming across a shopping mall from an extreme wide into our subjects establishing our two opposing groups—the young Swedish national boys, the ones to be mugged, and the slightly older group of boys from non-national roots. This shot lays down an immensely huge foundation for what the film stands for, and it goes under the radar until later inspection. It sets the pace; single take scenes with a static camera. It poses a question in the audience of racism and stereotyping, because as we view the groups together we immediately assume the concept of a theft (or this might just be my London-born mind-set)—either way we are shown the roots of the mugging. We are shown the role of the environment with a hugely booming ambience, with almost a disregard for the clarity of vocal information—favouring the reality over the filmic clarity we usually are gifted. But most of all it puts our adult eyes onto a conflict of youths, allowing us to view the experience in a very different way than the characters can see it themselves.
In contrast to this initial shot that bares all (technique and narrative), one of the strongest aspects of the film is it’s use of off-screen space. One example springs to mind, as one of the muggers chooses to back out of the crime on a public bus. The others in the group get off, only to rush back on and kick him into the floor of the bus, yet as he drops from the seat he falls out of view. The muggers rush off, leaving him (I can only speculate) sprawled on the floor. The bus begins to leave and the other Swedish passengers (adults) look to him, an act we are forbidden to commit, but fair to interact. Such a moment is hugely powerful in the film as it shows the reverse of what was clear up to that point, it shows that adults can be unwilling to help children—something we can only assume is because of race. We can contrast this to a scene which takes place on a tram, where one of the Swedish boys (the mugged) manages to momentarily escape the group, although he initially remains in the off screen space and we are unaware of his whereabouts he is slowly revealed as a passenger offers help and support to the clearly shaken boy. The act of revealing the Swedish boy couples perfectly with providing him aid. We are allowed to see him because us (the target audience, essentially a Swedish, majority national, audience) would extend our hand to him in aid, yet our view of the non-national remains hidden as we refuse to extend our hand (at least as fully) to an “outsider”.
This brings in a very heavy implication of race that pervades the film. Similar paralleled events can be found scattered throughout and heavily imply a racial bias towards a national group, and against a non-national, which of course aims to promote an agenda of equality. However the issue is complicated due to the narrative, and even further due to it’s basis on a spike in like crimes in Sweden in the years prior to its release. Although it is clear to recognise the racial bias we must also remember the criminal bias that we are presented with, and they correspond exactly. The Swedish national adults are more willing to help the national boys, but they are in need of direct help in that moment as they are being the victims of the crime, whereas the non-national boys are essentially criminals. This complicates a simple racial binary but I believe it actually strengthens its mark on us as an audience. It begs the question would things be the same if the roles were reversed and nationals were mugging non-nationals? We all would hope for the answer to be yes, but I’m sure not a single one of us is certain of that.
Because of all that has been said above I think Play provides a very unique experience as it reveals itself and it’s nature almost entirely in hindsight, and even as I write this 1 ½ months after watching the film I remember it vividly. I remember all the moments of searing discomfort, racial injustice and criminal inevitability. As the Swedish boys follow the muggers on and on for nearly the entire runtime of the film things become more and more painfully unbearable, but without that rush of pleasure we get in many other films. The realism of technique and narrative sucks the pleasure from the viewing and displaces it into the film’s aftermath, depositing thoughts, images and inequalities which resonate for days and weeks on end. Such a film is a prime example of the importance of finishing and enduring works which provide us with an alternative to pleasurable entertainment—although they may not provide us with such immediate satisfaction, even offering the complete opposite, we must soldier on through to reveal the gold that lies in the power of hindsight.
Afterthought: I find the idea of placing an adult mind into the situation of a child quite fascinating and am excited to explore it further. Play deals with it very interestingly, allowing us to analyse the world around our characters very closely, while acknowledging the inevitable results of childhood naivety. And what I find most fascinating about this example is the idea of replacing the characters with adults; I wonder if the narrative could play out in the same way? The inherent fear in the situation is so heightened in a naïve youth, but is it really extinguished in us as we grow older?
~Leo
Play (2011) dir. Ruben Östlund
3/3/3
9/13