This article is machine translated by Google from Norwegian
Netflix makes movies about 22. July in Oslo, and it boils despite the December cold. The ambivalence towards a commercial, international version of the terrorist incident is considerable. The size of the signature campaign against Paul Greengrass' upcoming movie norway says his.
Yes, for many it is too early. At the same time, the dramatizations of our great national tragedy are in line. NRK is working on its TV series, Erik Poppe with his feature film and a new documentary as well as an art film project is on the steps.
Why does it feel more vulnerable that a foreigner manages 22. Juliet story than a Norwegian does? The Norwegian Film Institute invites to a masterclass with director Greengrass – they have managed to hijack him in the midst of hectic filming. A rare kick – and a golden opportunity to find out more about the disputed project. But not just for those who listen; Greengrass itself also turns out to get something special out of the season.
An Utøya survivor talks about the need to tell about 22. July from a different angle than the bird's eye view.
One of us. Cinemateket's largest cinema hall is packed with expectant spectators – preferably younger men. Brit Greengrass is known for his contribution to the Jason Bourne series, however min admiration is due to the early masterpiece Bloody Sunday, about the slaughter of 28 Irish protesters during the Northern Ireland conflict. However, it's been a long time since Greengrass made this cinematic gem, and skepticism has come full force with regard to Greengrass' July 22 filming. The stumbling blocks are many, and the director clearly did not see one of us, although Åsne Seierstad's book with the same title is the starting point for the British filmization. Where Poppe's film omits the perpetrator, Greengrass goes the opposite way – and in the role of the perpetrator he has brought in the dangerously charismatic and empathetic Anders Danielsen Lie. Yes – good drama relies on a driving good antagonist, but Danielsen Lies skill and magnetism can easily be seduced.
Unwind of my own runaway prejudice, I consider leaving the scene, just as Greengrass comes fuming from the movie set and stumbles stealthily in the bottom steps. The hall holds its breath for the milliseconds it takes before it settles on its legs. The cheeky guy with wild gray hair spontaneously excuses himself for the gig and wins empathy points from the hall, including me.
The mood is set. Nedin Mutic from FilmLab suits us superbly through Greengrass' long and diverse film career. However, it is not the track record that impresses, but what Greengrass as a long-time documentary in conflict areas emphasizes in his work; his insistent quest for truth and the experiences he brings into the feature film. Among other things, Greengrass talks about the shock of meeting an IRA boy who had shot many at close range. How was it possible, given their equal background; when they had listened to the same music, watched the same TV shows growing up?
Movies for peace. Family father and humanist Greengrass tells how fear has crept into family discussions with the children: Brexit, the right-wing extremism's advance in the political landscape, the terrorist events that draw darkness upon us. Except for July 22, believes Greengrass, who insists that July 22 er unusual because the terror in this day in many ways ends with hope. And that is why it is so important for him to spread the story widely.
The director tells excitedly about how Bloody Sunday became part of the peace process between the British government and Ireland – how reaching a common story was necessary to build peace and a future together. The various parties to the conflict prepared the narrative of the tragedy jointly, inter alia by examining the physical facts. How gripping and surreal is it not that enemies have bridged each other through making movies together?
Diversity. Five weeks after Greengrass' appearance, a Utøya survivor stands in the same cinema hall and talks about the need to tell the July 22 story from a different angle than the bird's perspective. About how the role of a consultant on Erik Poppe's film can give her a tool for just this. She needs understanding of her experience – and of depicting the event closely and closely; that the story of Utøya becomes more like her own.
Norway is about to get a diversity in the report on July 22. Documentary Greengrass knows the importance of pointing out the narrative scene. He tells him in the hijacking story United 93 identifies with the passenger who does not have the ability to escape, and sees the whole situation with a plane in the way of a metaphor for the state of the world.
Greengrass' method is investigative and fact-based – according to him, this is what gives access to truth. Often there is a big divergence between what one thinks is likely and the reality as it is, he says excitedly, and uses United 93 as an example – the film is based on the story of that of the planes that did not reach the target on September 11, 2001. to maneuver and hence totally unsuitable.
Room for reflection. Greengrass' sincere dedication and rich knowledge grabs the audience. At the same time, my loyalty is local. Will the UK's 22nd July report kill the Norwegian stories? Have we given away both money – through the incentive scheme – and the opportunity to mark the first impression of the trauma of the international public? It is impossible to say. However, the race for who reaches the Norwegian audience first is won: Poppe's film premieres at Norwegian cinemas already on March 9, 2018.
But the meeting with Greengrass leaves room for reflection – looking at limitations as opportunities in the search for truth; believing that one can make a difference. Bloody SundayThe director also gives up by sharing his philosophy and method. The next day there is a scream in the press: Greengrass has placed a white van in front of the government building. This was not agreed, according to the tabloid press. The conversation about the incontrovertible facts of events has obviously led Greengrass to go further than he first thought. There we also got the answer to why an international master director takes the time to meet the Norwegian audience in the middle of the recording period: We are the ones who have given him a terror story that ends with hope. Perhaps one must come from outside to grasp this unique side of the matter.