2019 was a big year for films about classism. The most popular of all was Parasite, which not only addressed the vast economic gap between the upper and lower classes but also highlighted how this leads to a lack of class solidarity among the lower classes. Knives Out was a sharp commentary on how the rich can't even imagine sharing their property and wealth with the son of an immigrant, even though, morally and ethically speaking, the latter had more right to his inheritance than the former.
Article 15 proved that it's pointless to talk about the class divide without mentioning caste, and the list goes on. While, in real life, the COVID-19 pandemic underscored that the aforementioned class gap is deeper than we had imagined, entertainment took a strange turn by celebrating "classy behavior" under the guise of "criticizing" it. And now, with films like Delicious and, today's topic, An Honest Life, it seems that storytellers are hell-bent on turning the "eat the rich" trend into a "hate the poor" movement.
Director: Mikael Marcimain
Writers: Linn Gottfridsson, Joakim Zander
Stars: Simon Lööf, Nora Rios, Peter Andersson
An Honest Life, by Mikael Marcimain and written by Linn Gottfridsson, tells the story of Simon, who arrives in Lund to study law. But as soon as he sets foot in the city, mired in political turmoil, he runs into a group of robbers who rob a store and treat him kindly because he was injured during the riots. He meets his elite roommates, Ludvig and Gustaf, who practically harass him constantly. At university, he befriends Freddie and Alice, but never forms a real bond with any of them because his mind remains stuck on the robbers he encountered. By chance, Max approaches him and essentially seduces Simon into joining the group calling themselves "The Bandits," comprised of Dinah, Robin, Gustaf, and their leader, Charles.
These merry men of the modern era read poetry, quote anarchists, and steal from the rich because they believe they must steal from the upper class if they aren't willing to share. However, when one of their operations goes wrong, Simon realizes that perhaps he was better off being an amateur lawyer than a violent criminal.
I can't even say that Linn had a good heart when writing An Honest Life, as she portrays anyone who talks about anarchy, socialism, communism, or anything that opposes capitalism as the scum of the earth, while sympathizing with the rich because they have to breathe the same air as these criminals. Her narrative is disguised as "eating the rich," because that's been in vogue for quite some time. But it doesn't take long for that mask to fall away, revealing his "solve poverty by eliminating the poor" mentality, while transforming the "bandits" into drug-addled, sex-addicted, and morally reprehensible monsters. Meanwhile, characters representing the wealthy class say things like, "Well, we're the ones who create jobs." And this misunderstanding of what's wrong with capitalism isn't accidental at all.
Linn is clearly aware of the kinds of narratives spun by mainstream media and politicians, whose pockets are lined with capitalists, to vilify anyone who tries to talk about the calculated destruction of art, education, healthcare, and infrastructure. And he uses those arguments as the foundation of his film, destroying any nuance in themes like consciousness and class solidarity. In fact, he even blames two immigrants for the desecration of Swedish culture in the worst way imaginable. In the hands of a competent filmmaker, Linn's hate-filled propaganda against the working class and those hovering near the poverty line would have fueled the growing divide between society's strata into the stratosphere. Fortunately, Blomkvist isn't one of them. Yes, he employs a few split-diopter shots here and there. He adds a bunch of sex scenes to "spice things up."
His frames have a grainy, film-like look. But that's all there is to An Honest Life: aesthetics. The editing, from the first frame to the last, is appalling. There are conversation scenes, where the most basic information is conveyed, that are chopped up with the cinematic equivalent of a box grater. It's painful even to watch. The overall pacing is simply awful. That story is barely 20 minutes long, yet Blomkvist stretches it out to almost 120 minutes to pressure the audience into hating anyone who opposes capitalism. He doesn't even manage to extract good performances from his cast. Simon Loof and Nora Rios take up a large portion of the film, yet they fail to evoke a single identifiable emotion. The rest of the supporting cast is poor, but these two are truly atrocious.
I'll be honest: I'm unfamiliar with the sociopolitical climate of Sweden today. According to global indices, the country is excellent in terms of innovation, peace, press freedom, and democracy. But we know what happens with these surveys and how easily they can be distorted to create a false image of a country. You have to look deeper, analyze the news, to see if a country is racist, intolerant, discriminatory, and sinking under the weight of crime. And, based on my cursory research, Sweden does have problems, and then some. So I guess the initial idea for "An Honest Life" was to comment on the problems plaguing the country.
However, like every film and series narrated from the perspective of the ignorant upper class, it became a piece of propaganda that blamed the poor and sympathized with the plight of the rich. However, this is not an isolated case. As mentioned, the "eat the rich" trend got to the root of everything wrong with society: capitalism. So, of course, the one percent who decide how we should live didn't like it and now fund nonsense like this. All I can say is: please don't be fooled by these narratives. Watch movies and read books that truly address the issue of the economic divide with nuance; avoid "An Honest Life" like the plague.
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