Film: The Ape
Release date: 10th May 2010
Certificate: 15
Running time: 81 mins
Director: Jesper Ganslandt
Starring: Ollie Sarri, Francoise Joyce, Niclas Gillis
Genre: Drama/Thriller
Studio: ICA
Format: DVD
Country: Sweden
All things considered, The Ape is quite baffling – but only because we have become accustomed to dreadfully simplistic narratives and unrealistic dialogue. The Ape returns to a style of filmmaking that is out of favour currently.
Ollie Sarri is Kirster, a man who awakes confused and covered in blood. Sarri goes on to appear in every single frame of The Ape’s remaining 77 minutes, and starring alongside Sarri is an increasing sense of nausea, foreboding, pent up aggression, resignation and mental incapacity. Make no mistake, The Ape is a snapshot of a man losing (or already lost?) his grip on his marriage, his job, his sanity, and everything which connects him to his run of the mill existence…
This may at first glance appear familiar territory, The Ape is not the first film based upon the premise of following a character as they descend into a self-destructive hell. Where The Ape differs from most is that we are never shown the causes of Kirster’s distress, just as we are never shown any outrageous acts of violence. That isn’t to say the viewer doesn’t know exactly what has happened, of course, we do. The Ape never allows the viewer to sit back and comfortably sum up what is happening or has happened to Kirster because everything is only hinted at - it is entirely up to the viewers to cross the Ts and dot the Is. What we do get are glimpses of Kirster’s temper, or possible explanations for his obvious frustration, or hints at the possibility of violence that always seems to flicker behind his mournful, unblinking eyes.
The Ape is a complete success due in the main to fabulous direction and a possible career making performance. The direction is snappy without being fussy, and Jesper Ganslandt has placed his cameras right in front of the action. Not only is Ollie Sarri in every frame of the film, but at least half of the film seems to be shot close up to the actor's face. As the action unfolds, Kirster’s increasingly erratic behaviour is so unbelievably close to the screen that you can almost smell the manic fear and desperation.
There are so many standout scenes, and the tension is never allowed to drop for one second; watch in awe as Kirster explodes with pent up fury while instructing a learner driver. Feel queasy as a tennis practice match hints at the uncontrollable rage and longing which has built up inside this man in the midst of a break down. Three scenes, in particular, are so beautifully filmed and performed: a truly terrifying scene involving Kirster’s mother and a large kitchen knife will make anyone paying attention squirm; the scene toward the end of the film where Kirtser’s character bumps into an old friend is excruciatingly uncomfortable viewing, as we realize the character has now completely disconnected from reality and is unable to communicate in even the simplest of manners; and the final moments of the film are perfectly executed as the viewer is deliberately separated from Kirster, reflecting his own disconnection with the events around him.
The use of close up forces the viewer to share the anxiety of Kirster’s character, and coupled with the minimal dialogue, which is also almost entirely one-sided for the majority of the film, we not only see and feel everything Kirster is going through, we also share his emotions. The lack of music and the way the sound has been recorded places the viewer in the centre of Kirster’s world, and it is an unsettling experience.
Although not a true Dogme film, it shares many of the characteristics of Dogme, and is far more successful than even the much lauded Festen. The characters and settings are real, everything is entirely believable, and this snapshot of the violence and mania which can exist under the most normal of facades is a touch too close to reality. As Kirster’s mental capacity decays his ability to function normally also lessens, and the clever use of Kirster’s relationship with his mobile phone is a brilliant device, which illustrates the character's mindset perfectly. This truly is low-budget, minimalist cinema at it’s very best.
It is impossible to talk about The Ape without focusing on the performance of Ollie Sarri, displaying depth of emotion while maintaining an almost implacable expression. The pain, loss and desperation visible on Kirster’s blank face, the palpable sense of nausea and bewilderment, the sheer scale of his wrong doing are all on view, yet never once does the character become one dimensional. It would have been easy for Kirster to become an overwrought and overblown caricature, and in the hands of lesser actors that would have been the case. Sarri pulls off the seemingly impossible by never allowing Kirster to become a monster - he maintains the character as someone deserving of sympathy throughout.
The Ape is complex, emotive, expressive and arresting. It grabs your attention from the start and holds it unflinchingly until the final frame. It also leaves all the right questions unanswered. SM