Over 30 years ago a much younger, and pre-Robocop, Paul Verhoeven made the understated and under-appreciated Soldier of Orange. In Max Manus, we see the 'Soldaat van Oranje' resurrected but with Oslo subbing for Amsterdam this time around. And it's a good flick, too. Not great like 'Soldaat', but it will do. Indeed, as an introduction to Norwegian cinema to many, it's a more than decent 'nice to meet you'.
Comparison between the two pictures are, and should be, inevitable. After all, they're both about their country's WWII resistance movement, both made by and with native sons, and both try to fill a hole in the swiss-cheese minds of non-native audiences (who will mostly know what the USA, and maybe their own country, did during that time).
The opening scenes of each introduce us not just to the main characters, but to their college-boy mischief, their bonhomie, and their profound loyalty - both to their country and to each other. We witness the naive optimism of some, and the courage of all. Meticulous period (and locale) details fill each shot of Max, just like its predecessor. Why, we even get to see another return of the king in the coda (actually, in Orange, it was the queen, Wilhelmina). Here, again, the returning monarch is subdued in his triumph, looking, well, regal, surrounded by his adoring, and recently freed subjects. And flags, lots of flags. You get the idea.
The acting is where Max is not 'max'. Although most of the supporting cast is quite excellent, outstanding really, the same cannot be said for our hero Max. Aksel Hennie as MM seems to be able to project only two personas in playing his role: brave and defiant and brave and sensitive. Alas, it's what should have come in between that counts. His love interest, a miscast Agnes Kittelsen (as 'Tikken'), tries hard but winds up convincing only Max, not the audience. And, speaking of love interest, unlike Soldier of Orange where the attraction between the characters was alive and the audience effortlessly empathic, Max Manus, both the movie and the character, never make it clear why he fell for Tikken. Still, at least we understand what their romance had to do with the plot - allegiance to fact, and all that. Indeed, that's infinitely more insight than we get about the totally irrelevant and red-herring-like affair between the movie's arch-villain, the echt evil Nazi - Siegfried Fehmer (played without resort to too much stereotype by Ken Duken). I suspect much plot development in this regard was left on the floor of the cutting room.
Before all you Norwegians start throwing rancid herrings at me, please understand my criticism is about the movie, not about your heroes or your history. Before this film, I would have been surprised to hear that most non-Norwegians could utter anything beyond "Quisling" when asked about Norway and WWII. Unfortunately, as nice as it would have been to add "Max Manus" to people's fund of Norse WWII myths and legends, that's going to have to wait a while longer. Let's hope that it's not another 65 years.
Comparison between the two pictures are, and should be, inevitable. After all, they're both about their country's WWII resistance movement, both made by and with native sons, and both try to fill a hole in the swiss-cheese minds of non-native audiences (who will mostly know what the USA, and maybe their own country, did during that time).
The opening scenes of each introduce us not just to the main characters, but to their college-boy mischief, their bonhomie, and their profound loyalty - both to their country and to each other. We witness the naive optimism of some, and the courage of all. Meticulous period (and locale) details fill each shot of Max, just like its predecessor. Why, we even get to see another return of the king in the coda (actually, in Orange, it was the queen, Wilhelmina). Here, again, the returning monarch is subdued in his triumph, looking, well, regal, surrounded by his adoring, and recently freed subjects. And flags, lots of flags. You get the idea.
The acting is where Max is not 'max'. Although most of the supporting cast is quite excellent, outstanding really, the same cannot be said for our hero Max. Aksel Hennie as MM seems to be able to project only two personas in playing his role: brave and defiant and brave and sensitive. Alas, it's what should have come in between that counts. His love interest, a miscast Agnes Kittelsen (as 'Tikken'), tries hard but winds up convincing only Max, not the audience. And, speaking of love interest, unlike Soldier of Orange where the attraction between the characters was alive and the audience effortlessly empathic, Max Manus, both the movie and the character, never make it clear why he fell for Tikken. Still, at least we understand what their romance had to do with the plot - allegiance to fact, and all that. Indeed, that's infinitely more insight than we get about the totally irrelevant and red-herring-like affair between the movie's arch-villain, the echt evil Nazi - Siegfried Fehmer (played without resort to too much stereotype by Ken Duken). I suspect much plot development in this regard was left on the floor of the cutting room.
Before all you Norwegians start throwing rancid herrings at me, please understand my criticism is about the movie, not about your heroes or your history. Before this film, I would have been surprised to hear that most non-Norwegians could utter anything beyond "Quisling" when asked about Norway and WWII. Unfortunately, as nice as it would have been to add "Max Manus" to people's fund of Norse WWII myths and legends, that's going to have to wait a while longer. Let's hope that it's not another 65 years.