There was no more emotional moment at the recent, peculiar Oscar ceremony than Thomas Vinterberg’s victory in the best international picture race. The Danish director’s singular Another Round had been produced in the most extraordinary circumstances. Four days into shooting, Vinterberg’s daughter Ida died in a car accident.
“We wanted to make a film that celebrates life . . . We miss her, I love her,” the Danish director said at the ceremony in Union Station. “Two months before we shot this movie and two months before she died, she was in Africa and she sent me a letter. She had just read the script and she was glowing with excitement, she loved this and she felt seen by this.”
Another Round “celebrates life” in the most unusual fashion. Hollywood would not think to deliver an existence-positive film that hangs around rigorous boozing. Mads Mikkelsen plays one of four teachers who, following eccentric theories put out by psychiatrist Finn Skårderud, elect to keep their blood/alcohol content around a steady .05 (in the United States 0.08 counts as legally intoxicated). The notion being that gentle drunkenness promotes creativity and allows greater relaxation. There are some disasters. But there are also some successes.
The release of the film was understandably a difficult affair for Vinterberg. It is a risky concept. The memory of Ida’s death was still raw in his mind. The premiere was at a largely virtual Toronto International Film Festival. Happily, he was, shortly after that, able to get it before a few real audiences.
“Imagining you all had to watch it on your screen at home did not do any good for the movie,” he says. “But I’ve seen this movie in Denmark. The theatres have been opened here. And it’s been a massive blockbuster hit. Full theatres every night, everywhere. Hearing the atmosphere in these rooms has just been amazing. And of course, I’m regretful that all you guys had to form opinions when sitting back on your sofa. But the red carpets and all of that will come back.”
Binges and fractures
Let us dig a little deeper into the concept. The theory that motivates the characters’ descent seems a little hard to take seriously. And, sure enough, as the film progresses, light tipples become major binges and families fracture. But at first it seems to work. Is there really a case for alcoholic micro-dosing?
“Well, let’s just talk about the word ‘theory’ for a second.” Vinterberg says. “This is from you. You’re an academic.”
Nice of him. But I’m not really.
“Well, at least more than I am, anyway,” he says. “A ‘theory’ suggests something quite elevated. Whereas, for us film-makers, a theory is just something you say. And in this case, it was just something someone wrote in a book. It’s not like a proper theory. Right?”
Isn’t it?
“But the guy who came out with these words is a very well-educated psychiatrist and he is introducing the movie in Norway. He loved the movie. This ‘theory’ came from this man. My editor said: ‘You’re making a film about alcohol?’ At that point I was making purely a celebration of alcohol. And she said: ‘Well, maybe you should read this and she sent it to me.’ That’s how it is with ideas, right? They come to you.”
Now 52, almost as goodlooking as Mads Mikkelsen himself, Vinterberg is a charming, playful interviewee. Sitting among the most distinguished of his nation’s film-makers since the release of Festen in 1998, he doesn’t lead you astray, but he enjoys teasing at the corners of his own pretensions. It is hard to imagine many mainstream American directors treating the subject of heavy drinking in such pointedly equivocal fashion. There is darkness at the centre of the film, but it still ends – it’s in the trailer and the poster, so no spoilers – with Mikkelsen dancing joyously in the boozy open air.
Socially accepted
"Tobias Lindholm wrote the script with me and we felt it would be grander – and more truthful – if we also told the dark side," he says. "We were also fascinated with the dark side of drinking. Tobias has had this tragedy very close to him. Me too, actually – in the commune that I grew up in. We all know the stories. And Thomas Bo Larsen, who plays the guy Tommy in the film, is a member of AA. So he's helping these people. He told us a lot of stories. I was fascinated by the fact that this socially accepted liquor, which has been around for thousands of years, can elevate people, can make people fall in love. I don't know how many married couples you know who found each other sober."
There are parts of the world where a question like that would generate only raised eyebrows, but it’s hard to pretend that Ireland is one of them. For a long time, booze has been the catalyst that allows relationships to fizz.
“And yet still . . . it destroys families and kills people. So I’m very fascinated by that. We we were trying to embrace both ends.”
There is some excellent drunk acting going on here. I naively assume that acting a little bit tipsy is harder than acting falling-down blotto. The former involves little slippages and confusions rather than broad behavioural meltdowns. But Vinterberg isn’t so sure.
“I am glad you are not an actor, because I will have to correct you,” he says. “It is more the other way around. Because most acting is about hiding. Right? So if you’re in love, you pretend you’re not in love. If you’re drunk, you measure your movements then maybe you tilt a little and then people say ‘he’s pissed’. That works fine up until 0.9 or 1.0 [blood/alcohol content]. But, after that, it becomes really difficult because it easily looks like overacting. Right? And silly and fake. When you are very drunk and fall you don’t protect yourself. That was actually really difficult to get right.”
Dogme 95
Thomas Vinterberg is part of a golden generation of Danish filmmakers who emerged in the shadow of Lars von Trier. He grew up in a large communal house in north Copenhagen with his parents and their intellectual pals. In 1993, he graduated from the National Film School of Denmark and moved towards the world of TV drama. His first feature, The Biggest Heroes, did well at home, but it was his involvement with the Dogme 95 movement – a back-to-basics manifesto informally headed by von Trier – that properly established him with the cinephile community. Vinterberg's Festen, a searing family drama, emerged as the first film in the Dogme series, won a jury prize at Cannes and landed on many best-of-1998 lists.
Denmark is a similarly sized country to Ireland. What can we learn from the generation that included Vinterberg, von Trier, Susanne Bier and Nicolas Winding Refn? Could Dogme have happened somewhere else? State support was certainly a factor.
“Let’s just stay with the financial system for a second,” he says. “Imagine if we were in Los Angeles and I come up to a banker and I say, ‘I know this crazy Dane and we’ve made these rules where you basically can’t use music or make-up or anything that you normally need to make good movie.’ And besides that, I’m going to make a movie about child abuse. Sure, please give me your money. Forget about it. I wouldn’t be able to raise a nickel. We have got a bit used to that support system. But it is such a blessing that we have a state that allows us to take these chances.”
Wavings of wads
Vinterberg has had a varied career since that auspicious debut. He had another hit at Cannes with the thrilling The Hunt in 2012. Six years ago, he directed a successful adaptation of Thomas Hardy’s Far From the Madding Crowd with Carey Mulligan. That was about as close as he got to an American blockbuster (not very). We can have little doubt that the studios have waved wads of money in his face. Has he never been tempted?
“Was I ever not tempted?” he says. “You’re tempted all the time. I was tempted a week ago, right? Because there’s many things to it. The main thing is the fact that someone else has written something that they could just hire you to do. Whereas when you have to write something and produce it it’s a very different effort. But being hired to do something is a very sexy idea. And travelling is great – because you explore and you meet new people So there’s always a temptation. And sometimes the money is a temptation. Of course.”
He recalls being offered theatre work in Vienna. As he explains it, some guy flew to Denmark and offered him the job.
“I said: ‘No, thank you. I don’t know how to do it.’ He flew back. Later he said: ‘Do you know what I’m paying you?’ Then I said: ‘Yes, please!’ Ha, ha! It became maybe the most artistically interesting and intense journey I’ve been on. So, yes, money is part of it.”
What would the folk in the commune have thought?
Another Round opens on July 2nd
