Under Solen (Under the Sun)

Swedes and Sensibility

Grade:  B+

            When a simple, lonely, 40-year-old Swedish farmer places a newspaper ad seeking a housekeeper, specifying that he wants a young woman and requesting a photograph, it’s apparent that he’s looking for more than just banishing dust bunnies.  In Under the Sun, he gets all he wishes for; while perhaps a tad unlikely, that alone isn’t particularly remarkable.  What is remarkable about this film is the depths of emotion that ensue, and the richly layered expressiveness of the performances and cinematography. 

Set in 1956, the burly rustic Olof (Rolf Lassgård) lives an idyllic life on his sun-dappled farm with his chickens, draft horses and leaky barn.  He’s a lifelong bachelor; since his mother’s death nine years ago, he’s never cleaned the house. 

The answer to his prayers comes in the form of Ellen (Helena Bergström, wife of director Colin Nutley), a ripe-featured, statuesque Nordic knockout.  It’s apparent from Ellen’s slinky dresses, fire-engine-red fingernails and high heels that she comes from a life less ordinary, but she has no complaints with the chamber pots and isolation of farm life, or, for that matter, with Olof himself.  She doesn’t discuss her past, but the comfort and companionship she provides, without asking for so much as a kronor, are more than enough to keep Olof, a gentle, naïve soul, from asking questions.  A sweet, caring relationship develops and eventually blossoms into love. 

Olof and Ellen get along so famously, however, that we can’t help but anticipate that something’s going to come along and fuck it up.  As the opening title states, there’s nothing new under the sun; no good relationship goes unpunished. 

Olof’s only friend, the brash, ducktailed Erik (Johan Widerberg, a combination Sean Penn and John McEnroe), is a younger man who, having done a stint in the merchant marines and lived in Memphis, considers himself not just a man of the world, but a flaming Lothario to boot.  He dispenses unsolicited advice freely and takes advantage of the diffident, illiterate rustic Olof. 

Erik takes a jealous interest in the couple, and, when he’s not trying to entice Ellen (aping Elvis, he doffs his shirt and cranks his hips suggestively), he vilifies her to Olof.  In one of the film’s best scenes, Ellen’s seduction of the sexually callow Olof is intercut with Erik’s selfish attempts to get into his girlfriend’s lederhosen.  (Although Olof and Ellen are shown having sex, the scenes are without nudity to speak of; I don't think many women have sex with a bra on, but there you have it.)  After a final, desperate bid to deep-six the relationship, Erik takes a different tack, announcing that he’s putting out to sea on the ill-fated Italian luxury liner Andrea Doria.  

The pacing is languid, rhythmic and graceful, slowly building to a captivating climax.  The acting is uniformly touching and believable.  While certain aspects of the plot are a bit contrived (how can she be so happy with him, when they are so different?  Why doesn’t he find someone to read her Dear John letter to him?), so much genuineness and sincerity is conveyed that you’ll willingly go along.  Shots of airplanes coursing through the sky, interspersed throughout the film, are puzzling; perhaps they simply point up the contrast between the insular, farm-bound lives of the characters and the frenetic world outside.

Director Nutley is a transplanted Brit who’s made a number of films in Swedish, including 1992’s House of Angels.  Under the Sun was nominated for the Best Foreign Language Film Oscar in 2000; while Pedro Almodovar’s vivid All About My Mother took home the hardware, this sweetly poignant film was equally deserving.  It’s infinitely richer than either Chocolat or The Cider House Rules, the similarly-toned but tepid Lasse Hallström pics that Miramax flogged into receiving Best Picture nods in the last two Oscars.  In 2001, Under the Sun has found a distributor and is poised for an arthouse run.  It’s a small story that evokes big emotions.  May the box office gods smile upon it.  

Directed by Colin Nutley.  Running time 1:58. 

For an article from the New York Times (free registration required) about director Colin Nutley and this film. click here.