•
Rating: What would have happened if the hospital from the series E.R. had been built near Twin Peaks instead of in an anonymous American metropolis? Probably something very similar to what happens in this film, certainly one of the most suggestive (and anomalous) works produced by the quirky Danish director.
"The Kingdom" was born as a television mini-series, broadcast in 1994 by the Danish national TV in 4 episodes (each with an average duration of about 70 minutes), and was later distributed in cinemas around the world as a single monumental film, with a colossal duration of almost 5 hours.
The story is set almost exclusively inside the Copenhagen hospital, Rigshospitalet, the largest and most modern in all of Denmark. This huge concrete building with a gloomy and imposing appearance that dominates the city, simply called Riget ("Kingdom" in Danish) by everyone, with its intricate structure of labyrinthine corridors and claustrophobic undergrounds, forms the backdrop on which a multitude of bizarre characters move: doctors and patients of the clinic, whose stories (and nightmares) intertwine with each other, all connected directly or indirectly to the manifestation of the ghost of a little girl who haunts the neurosurgery department. When the elderly Mrs. Drusse, a hypochondriac spiritualist, during yet another hospital admission perceives the presence of this tormented spirit, she unhesitatingly sets out on its trail to try to understand who or what is denying it eternal peace.
Written by Lars von Trier together with friend Niels Vørsel (already co-screenwriter of "Epidemic", "Europa", and "The Element of Crime") under the banner of improvisation and creative freedom, this original ghost story fascinates primarily due to its almost dream-like atmosphere and the unsettling hospital setting, pervaded by a sickly and anguished air that in some ways recalls the Overlook Hotel from "Shining", perfectly underscored by the beautiful reddish-hued cinematography and the usual handheld camera, so dear to Dogma95. But just like in Twin Peaks, sudden and unexpected changes in register surprise, alternating horror with mystery, comedy with the grotesque. In fact, the story, exploiting the complex tangle of plots and subplots, with the same ease as it jumps from one character to another, often manages to baffle the viewer thanks to some hilarious sequences loaded with cynical irony, grotesque situations on the verge of absurdity that temporarily ease the ever more oppressive tension. The end result is a surprisingly varied and captivating film, entirely based on the juxtaposition between rationality and the supernatural, easily identifiable in the conflict pitting the opposing figures of Dr. Helmer (the cynical and selfish head of neurology) and the psychic Drusse against each other: science versus the occult, the rational versus the irrational.
In '97, von Trier shot a sequel, inseparable from the original, which resumes and develops the numerous points left unresolved by the ending, without however providing a definitive conclusion. Unfortunately, hopes of eventually seeing the announced final chapter have recently faded due to the deaths of two of the main actors, the excellent and irreplaceable Ernst-Hugo Järegård (Dr. Stig Helmer) and Kirsten Rolffes (Mrs. Drusse).
We are left with these two works that, with their almost 10 hours of total duration, represent one of the most original and successful cinematic experiments of recent years.
Loading comments slowly
Other reviews
By Mattone
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.
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.
