Lars von Trier
The Kingdom

The year is 1994 and director Lars Von Trier makes his television debut with a film that will become a TV series titled Riget, broadcast in 4 episodes in Denmark and 5 in Italy. It is a horror TV series (although, as we will see, perhaps it's not entirely correct to define it this way) set in Denmark's largest hospital, "Riget," which means "kingdom."

When a patient (or pseudo-patient) hears the cry of a child in the hospital elevator, a series of events begins to unfold that leads to very notable situations. I think it's beneficial to discuss each episode separately, focusing on the Italian version, and then point out some common traits to draw conclusions about the work itself.

Let's start with the first episode. Apart from a rather enigmatic introduction that precedes the brief opening common to all episodes, it begins with a bang, presenting a first paranormal phenomenon near the hospital. Obviously, many of the things we will see in this first episode will only become clear later on, and this is no exception. The soundtrack stands out immediately, perhaps a bit repetitive over the five episodes, but nonetheless well done and especially suited to the context. Von Trier's direction is more measured compared to other works, with more traditional shots and generally more composed dynamics. The first few minutes inside the hospital's daily life are purely functional to the introduction of the main characters, and therefore feel very rushed, saturated, and even confusing if you will. But, at the end of the day, they are absolutely necessary to grasp, in time for the second episode, the main traits of each doctor's personality and more. We have the chief doctor, Helmer, irredeemably infamous and always ready with a sharp retort, Swedish and therefore in constant conflict with his Danish colleagues and local customs; we have the elderly Mrs. Drusse, who is essentially a medium or something very similar, pretending to be sick to conduct séances with the hospital's patients; there's the loyal yet submissive Dr. Krogshøj and a series of colleagues with more or less unpronounceable names who are introduced extensively from the start. Also immediately apparent is one of the key themes of the plot: science against spirituality. Dr. Helmer is primarily presented as totally opposed to any form of superstition, even when he is told about hypnosis he is stunned. He represents an emblem of a category of people who will have to face the supernatural, one way or another, and precisely because of their mental rigidity, they will be tested. Two young men with Down syndrome are also introduced, who, while washing dishes (perhaps in the same hospital), serve as narrators for the entire story, inserting emblematic phrases here and there to highlight particularly significant moments. After clarifying the main traits of the various characters and initiating the individual events in a more or less evident, but still very solitary way, the episode leaves room for a bit of healthy nonsense (or at least it appears so for the moment), also hinting at a plethora of inexplicable phenomena that will become the leitmotif of the subsequent episodes. In the end credits, a young Von Trier sums up and thanks the viewers, inviting them to continue following the series.

If after the first episode there's an inevitable bitter taste left, with the second episode, maybe unique peaks in the entire series are reached. Everything that seemed disconnected and apparently random in the first episode begins to appear interconnected with the other events, and the affairs of the individual characters are further developed, adding to the predominantly everyday atmosphere of the first chapter much stronger spins on the horror side, and above all, one begins to glimpse what in my opinion is the true nature of the entire work: a basically thriller dynamic, tinged with disturbing and horror tones and finally spiced up with a touch of black humor, which will reach its peaks in the last episode but will permeate the entire series to some extent. Something unsettling also begins to show in the daily dynamics: during a brain operation, the patient mysteriously starts singing and upon waking says he saw a girl during the operation, for example. Meanwhile, the elderly lady, relying on her hilarious yet disarmed son Bulder (who works as a porter in the same hospital), endeavors to find an unhappy spirit manifesting in the Kingdom, hoping to help it reach the afterlife. The relationships between the individual characters are also deepened, and in some cases, the stories begin to intertwine evidently, and those who seemed irrelevant thus far gain a certain importance within the plot, magnificently orchestrated by Von Trier and company. Once again, it's at the end that things start to really get intriguing... the terrible thing that must be said about this, however, is that the Italian version suffers from a different division than the Danish one on these occasions. Namely, to have 5 episodes of about 50 minutes instead of 4 of about 60 minutes, it's clearly been necessary to cut the episodes differently. But since the endings are conceived as such and nothing else, some scenes before the finale are cut and then somehow inserted at the beginning of the next one, or even worse, often the ending part of the episode is completely remounted to give it a complete sense, but sacrificing some scenes that are inserted in other contexts. The result is that, for example, instead of having a scene where 4 intertwined things happen simultaneously, we see that two happen, while the remaining two are moved to the next episode, sometimes without explaining that they nevertheless took place on a different chronological plane. The whole thing becomes misleading, and although generally watching the Italian version doesn't lead to obvious contradictions, the scene remounting and, more generally, the series reorganization compared to the original conception, sacrifices some well-thought-out dynamics present in the Danish edition, besides inevitably resulting as a violation of the original idea of the director. Which is, in my opinion, deplorable, but since it's a distribution problem more than the authors', I won't make much of it.

By the third episode you enter the addiction phase. If between the first and the second, I contemplated taking a break or even continuing another day, and between the second and the third at least one could consider splitting the viewing into two more or less symmetrical parts, from this point on continuation is no longer in question. It goes directly to the following episodes, like innate reflexes. Even though no other episode will generally be as successful as the second, from this moment on, the events blend with such mastery that waiting to find out what will happen next becomes impossible. Amid eerie scenes, the questions begin to find answers, and if not answers, at least some paths to follow. The peak is also here at the end (which, however, is not the end in the Danish version), where, for different reasons, a large part of the characters find themselves having to secretly access the hospital's archives. This gives rise to scenes of great intensity and sometimes so absurd as to be comical. This third episode is also the only one that doesn't end with a bang or in a particularly unsettling way. It ends in an important and lively phase that invites continuation, but it's evident that it is not its natural ending (especially because the real end of the original third episode, a turning point for the entire story, will appear totally at random in the middle of the following episode).

By the fourth episode, the problem of remounting is insurmountable, and the Italian version lags by almost a full episode. This results in the usual mismatch not worthy of continuing to discuss. The events, by now almost completely interwoven, often take a twisted turn: there's the doctor who decides to self-implant a liver with a tumor to have the right to donate that organ to research (which he will personally undertake), a matter the family of the patient to whom the diseased liver belongs would not accept; there's the chief doctor who must either hide or destroy an operation report that would reveal an error of his that led to a child's disability and, when cornered, even tries to swallow it; the unhealthy reason why the spirit sought by Mrs. Drusse is imprisoned on earth is discovered; a series of situations on the edge of the absurd but which, according to the director, are far less hallucinating than true stories he had heard about the Kingdom and which, if he had invented them, he would have excluded from the script to try to maintain a minimum of credibility. We also begin to notice some horrifically produced special effects that are bearable only if one considers we are watching a TV series not of the highest visibility from the early '90s. Some ethical issues related to the medical world also emerge, while some of the mysteries that appeared from the start of the series become truly clear. When everything seems to be nearing the end, questions are rendered even less clear with the introduction of some twists, which will only be resolved with the final episode.

One might expect a scary ending from a series that seems to have been fairly contained in terms of the horror side. And instead—maybe it's just me—but in the last episode the thing I did most was laugh. All the tension accumulated after four episodes, and all the plots seeking resolution that are open... all of this reaches, after the final necessary explanations and the usual eerie interludes with beautiful directorial ideas, a point of no return in the last section of the episode. The Danish Minister of Health visits the hospital just as all the events come to an end and intertwine one last time. Thus, witnessing a department head hiding under a desk, an exorcism happening in the basement, a liver transplant on a non-consenting patient performed in the neurosurgery ward, a clandestine abortion, a sexual encounter in the sleep study department, and so on. Each time one of these things happens, one is amazed at the minister's impeccable timing, perfectly fitting with all the events we've followed since the first episode, which reach their zenith all at the same time, without forced scenarios. It is the ultimate demonstration of the validity of the subject and the script. Fortunately, by the way, the episode was minimally altered compared to the Danish version, as it is fundamentally the fourth and last episode of the original edition, only with a start moved forward, marking its shorter duration. After some laughs at the finale, however, the smile disappears on the enigmatic yet traumatic ending, in which a series of things occur over the span of ten seconds that it's not suitable to cite, nor comprehend, also because considering the state of things, the latter intention would be unfulfillable anyway.

In conclusion, The Kingdom is certainly a very good quality TV series, which is nevertheless transposable almost perfectly into a single four-hour film (except that the enigmatic endings make little sense inserted amidst a thousand other things). The main "defect" of the film, as we can see it, is the fact that it has been modified compared to the original version for trivial reasons, and, in this way, it loses part of its original message and form, but, as mentioned, it's not the director who should be blamed for this. The great strength, however, is the screenplay, which stages a very complex plot with great precision in a clear and intriguing manner, interlacing numerous sub-plots and outlining an overall atmosphere that we might define as a "horror thriller with black humor." Technically, the film is not among the most cutting-edge, mainly due to the low quality of the recordings (in 4:3 and only clear to a certain point) and the few special effects. The actors' performances are generally excellent, with some particularly noteworthy peaks, and the characterization of individual characters also reaches excellent levels, despite the brevity of the series. The soundtrack and direction are free from negative facets that can be evidently denounced and the work's ability to intrigue the spectator promises high levels, although only from halfway through the series onward. In general, however, it's certainly not a masterpiece, as it doesn't offer particular points for reflection (apart from some critiques of the healthcare system, ethical reflections, and some existential hints when talking about the occult), nor very strong emotions or particularly brilliant ideas. It is simply a well-made and ingeniously constructed series, with some peculiar content and formal aspects, but perhaps truly excels only in the area of plot and characters. Remembering that "life is made of two simple things: good and evil," I still recommend viewing this work, which will nonetheless be a source of sure entertainment and reasonable interest for fans of thriller, moderate horror, occult phenomena, and sleepless nights hearing doors open by themselves (it happened!).