A corrections officer sees her placid work life thrown into disarray upon the arrival of a new inmate, a mysterious figure from her past, in this sophomore feature from Gustav Möller.
Sons maintains its icy grip because of the creeping realization that Eva – for all of her personal baggage – is still a microcosm of the institution that employs her.
Screened as part of 2024
Sons 2024
Vogter
| Aug 22 | | ||
| Sep 02 | |
Prison guard Eva (Borgen’s Sidse Babett Knudsen) is at ease with the mundanity of life working the minimum-security block. Leading group yoga sessions and giving one-on-one algebra lessons, she wears her maternal instincts on her sleeve, separating bickering low-level inmates as if they were toddlers having a tantrum. But when newcomer Mikkel arrives at the prison, Eva requests a transfer from the calm of her present charges to supervise this supposed stranger, over on the maximum-security ward.
It's not too long before we learn who this young man really is, and the warm smiles and good humour are replaced with a streak of malice, as Eva pushes the limits of prison regulations to reinforce her position of power. Fans of Gustav Möller’s debut feature The Guilty (NZIFF 2018) will recognise the claustrophobic confines of a film dominated by one location, trading an emergency call-centre for the sterile white walls of a Danish prison complex.
Imprisoned by guilt and grief, Eva is at a crossroad – to choose forgiveness, or revenge, to rehabilitate, or to retaliate, her mental turmoil bleeding onto the screen as moments of surrealism punctuate the otherwise stark naturalism. Wrestling with rage and fuelled by regret, Eva must come to terms with her own demons if she, or her charges, have any hope of redemption in this tense psychological thriller. — Matt Bloomfield
“Aided by Jasper J. Spanning’s boxed-in cinematography, the prison is shot in a vérité-style that lingers on the day-to-day minutia of the guard’s and prisoners’ lives. Rarely do we leave the prison, suggesting that Eva is just as much a prisoner there as Mikkel. When we finally do leave prison’s confines – on a day trip that Eva is forced into suggesting – the film’s titular interests clarify, as we see Mikkel’s mother (Marina Bouras) grappling with her own troubled relationship with a son that she cannot understand or control. Like much in the film, the parallels between these mothers (and sons) are unspoken.” — Christian Gallichio, The Playlist