A Pigeon Sat on a Branch Reflecting on Existence (2014)

The Swedish Movie "En duva satt på en gren och funderade på tillvaron" was shown in the US as "A Pigeon Sat on a Branch Reflecting on Existence (2014)" It was written and directed by Roy Andersson.

We saw this movie, along with a friend, in the excellent Dryden Theatre of Eastman House in Rochester, NY. The staff person who introduced the film went on and on about what a genius Roy Andersson is, how lucky we are that the Dryden could bring it to Rochester, etc. etc. The IMDb rating was a very respectable 7.3. How could we go wrong?

All three of us left the Dryden thinking, "Was he talking about the same movie we just saw"? It was called a black comedy. The only problem with that description is that the movie wasn't funny. It was disjointed, more or less random, with running jokes that also weren't funny. Two scenes at the end were pathological and disturbing.

The two recurring characters--sort of a Laurel and Hardy pair--were depressed and depressing. And, just to turn the movie into a laugh riot, King Charles XII appears on his way to and from the terrible Swedish defeat at the Battle of Poldova.

Be sure to miss this movie. If I had a choice between seeing it again and undergoing root canal work, I'm not sure what I'd do. Save yourself the agony. If you want to see a Swedish film, see "The Seventh Seal." See "The Emigrants." See anything, just not this movie.

Fmovies: This, a film about death; its stalking the unready, catching its survivors off guard, delivering problems of succession, needs to be viewed metaphorically. It plays out at a snail's pace and snares you just as death snares its victims. At first, we see the peaceful dove, AKA pigeon, protected by a glass bubble from the attacking eagle (örn) and get a sense of the portents to come. This comes to pass in a most inventive yet phlegmatic study of collective sorrow and fear of loss. Even if you know very little Swedish history, you cannot fail to recognise that the seemingly modern tale of two unsuccessful and troubled travelling salesmen is a metaphor for something else. Poor Jonathan wants never to meet his parents in heaven and is traumatised by visions of unspeakable horror. It is not just lost innocence. We get to see the dreams, the re-enactments of the glory days and the devastating defeat that lives on in the collective memory. Maybe he is a cry-baby. Maybe he has a true 'memory' of the extent of his, and his nation's loss. Quite magical but not your average cinema goer's fare.

The movie takes painstaking care to portray humanity at its worst. With thespian scenes, set camera and no movement, the unlucky viewer is led through a series of mostly disconnected tragedies of the mundane and less mundane life, with the actors generally mostly half-way to their grave both in agility and complexion. Lacking respect of death and the dying, death, greed, cruelty, slavery, torture, poverty, heart-break, loneliness, depression, suicide, war, grief. There is no character development, no hope, no love, no colour. In a regrettably dystopian image of a world, Andersson is treating the audience to misery and despair, without bothering with too much imagination. Attempts of understated comedian expression repeatedly fall flat. The end credits come as a relief from utter boredom.

A Pigeon Sat on a Branch Reflecting on Existence fmovies. This is my very first review here. I was so impressed that I was forced to register here and tell you all why nobody should miss the masterpiece.

This film pretty much summarizes how it feels to live in the world where 99% of people you deal with are imbeciles. In other words, it gives an accurate description of the state of the world right now. When you think carefully, you understand there is not that much difference between Apple Google whatchamacallit CEOs and those two guys of the film who work in the "entertainment business" and help people to have some good time. You look around and you see the bleakness of the film isn't an overstatement. It actually mirrors our reality in some most perfect manner. No one cares anymore. Nobody's listening anymore. We're tired, exhausted and uninspired. Some guys still make money and have some good laughs - but what's the point making any big fuss about it while the party's pretty much over and the world is doomed to be blown up sooner or later?! The last scenes are brilliant metaphorical statements of the western welfare societies and wrap up this instant classic fantastically.

Check this out and you'll see what I'm talking about, thanks.

Roy Andersson sits on a branch and looks at us: this is how we can summarize the film in one sentence. The movie is amusing, a sublime collection of "paintings" where the director cleverly moves from common situations (a mother enjoying his baby in a park) to the most absurd ones (King Charles XII having a mineral water in a bar before a battle). The viewer shall not struggle to find a standard, linear plot but, through putting together, one by one, all these paintings, she/he will have a reliable picture of human beings. Death, friendship, money, exploitation of people and animals: you find them all in Andersson's pigeon. Characters are mainly old, corpulent, pale, slow-moving but depicted in magnificent way and extremely real. The two salespeople involved in the entertainment business stand out: seeking debtors while not being themselves able to fulfill their obligations, they eventually realize that their friendship is the thing that really matters. Songs also play an important role in the movie (Lilla vackra Anna, above all) and they will stick in audience's head for a while after the viewing. At the end of his trilogy on human being, we can in fact say that the director has a positive message for us: Wednesday will come again and Roy Andersson is happy to see that we are doing fine.

Some film makers try to make their films as realistic as possible (the Dardenne brothers, Mike Leigh), and some try to get as far away from reality as they can by creating their own cinematographic universe (Wes Anderson, Jean-Pierre Jeunet). Roy Andersson definitely belongs to the latter category.

The world Andersson shows in his film, is grey, slow, unexciting, and old-fashioned. It reminded me of how eastern Europe must have looked during the communist era. No bright colours, no joy, no laughter, no hope, no ambitions. The interiors are drab, the people dreary. This self-created world is where the cinematographic equivalent of a series of short stories take place. Some are bizarre, most are melancholic, a few are incomprehensible, others meaningless or absurd. But they all share this common characteristic: they are taking place in Andersson's universe.

Actually, that universe is his studio, where he has built all of the sets with incredibly great attention to details, colours, clothing, lighting and lay-out. You can see fascinating images and footage of the production process on Andersson's web site. The sets are the real stars of the film. Even so much so, that maybe the stills of the film (also on the web site), with their Edward Hopper-like melancholy, are better than the film itself.

As fascinating as they are, I don't think the fragments work well as a feature film. They could have been very effective, say, as an element of a daily satirical television programme. But I think watching them all after each other, made into one 100 minute film, is not the best way to appreciate them.