This lovely Norwegian film was nominated for an Academy Award for best foreign language film of 2006, and released in the United States in the summer 2008.
Two Hopeful Young Writers
Two hopeful young writers stand side-by-side before a post box; each anxiously fondling their overstuffed manila envelopes; each sheepishly grinning, at the prospect of having their respective novels published.
The tall bird-like Phillip (Anders Danielson), with short-cropped hair and darting eyes takes the plunge first and deposits his manuscript; followed quickly by best friend and fellow author Erik (Espen Klouman-Hoiner), an ethereal-looking golden boy with wind-blown blond locks and sky-blue eyes.
The all-knowing narrator announces over the still-frame that indeed both novels will be published; Phillip first, then Erik; what follows are the two divergent paths the writers take.
Madness is an Inconsistent Narrative
In between Phillip’s book and Erik’s, the movie bears witness to the dramatic events that follow Phillip’s initial success. According to The Narrator, some said it was Stendhal Syndrome (psychosomatic anxiety disorder seemingly caused by the exposure to great art); others said it was Phillip’s obsessive love for his girlfriend Kari (Victoria Winge).
It is in telling Phillip’s fractured story that screenwriters Joachim Trier and Eskil Vogt posit a rather brilliant thesis: madness is an inconsistent narrative; as Phillip’s instability gradually pushes his lover and his best friend further and further away.
Erik’s story is far more idyllic, though no less complicated; as he must carefully navigate around Phillip’s emotional landmines; not to mention he and Phillip’s mutual involvement with a group of immature friends, who appear to be way too old to still be hung up on pseudo-socialist politics and anarchist rock n’ roll.
The scenes of Erik and Phillip hanging out with the old gang are funny and endearing if for no other reason than the fact that they are the most literate gang of n’er do wells this side of The Merry Pranksters.
After time passes and it becomes clear that Phillip may never write again, Erik decides he must move on with his own life; and in a touching scene set to match the opening shot of the friends standing before the post box, Erik stands all alone before the very same box, as he deposits a new manuscript with trembling hands.
Within and Without the Life of the Mind
An important insight into Phillip’s fragile disposition is revealed after Erik announces his eminent publication; Phillip reminds Erik of a pact the two had made before they became published authors; a pact based on the theory that to be a great artist, one must shed all things that weigh you down or prevent you from creating:
We’re supposed to read and write. Hang out with friends. We’ll practice deviant behavior. Have fetishistic sex with prostitutes…
Phillip brazenly proclaims that for artists to excel, they must embrace instability, and reject complacency and bourgeois behavior. And this is key to understanding Phillip’s downward spiral; because those with emotional problems are constantly searching for stability.
Phillip believes his talent, his creative drive, the one thing he does well in life, also makes him ill. He believes the method and the work required for him to create drives him to madness. Thus, he is an artist both compelled and repelled by the creative process.
For Erik, there are no demons wrestling for his artistic soul; he moves freely through the days without friends or lovers to distract him from his work; and this freedom includes shedding the most burdensome and complicated person in his life, Phillip.
Phillip and Erik's dynamic relationship is an integral piece of a fascinating puzzle that makes Reprise one of the most uncompromising and authentically emotional films ever made on the nature of friendship, set within and without the life of the mind.
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