(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“Charly is looking for Amy, who disappeared during a vacation. He decides to visit the hotel to finally solve the mystery once and for all. However, Charly's investigation is quickly derailed and leads him into a phantasmagorical nightmare.”
Without sounding bleak, there are a good many problems with Victim Of Love (2019), many of which aren’t necessarily obvious at first blush. It’s the kind of flick that the more you think about then the more you will either love or hate it; and that isn’t a bad place to be in and of itself. In fact, some of mankind’s personal favorite motion pictures are the kind of thing we go back to over and over again to revisit, looking for something deeper, hoping for greater clarity with repeat viewings, or cherishing a particularly moving sequence because it deserves another helping. Such circumstances might not always make for great cinema, but they definitely fuel some viewers wanting answers to questions they may not have the wisdom to ask yet still know there’s a gaping hole meant to be filled with something … no matter what shape may fit.
Similarly, Charly (played by Rudi Køhnke) has found himself in a similar situation: he’s apparently lost what appears to be the love of his life, Amy (Louise Cho), somewhere in Copenhagen, and he’s refusing to go anywhere else until he finds her, thus making himself whole again. Though he understands what’s missing, he still vacillates between moments of sheer listlessness and depraved debauchery, rarely committed in action to the search he insists to everyone he’s undertaken. Could it be that, secretly, he doesn’t truly wish to find her? Or could it be that somewhere in the darkest of dark hearts he knows what’s waiting for him at that intended destination and he wishes to avoid it at all costs? (If that sounded spoilery, then so be it …)
It doesn’t take long for the wild ride that is Victim Of Love to realize Charly is the screen definition of the unreliable narrator for a lot of reasons. First, we see very little time spent on his professed investigation. Second, we see him caught up in some drug and booze-filled frenzies exhibiting behaviors that suggest he’s far from the ‘concerned citizen’ trying to locate a presumed loved one. Third, we witness him over and over and over again partaking of some very random acts of unpredictable violence, an oft repeated state of mind which only hints that he likely knows more than he’s let on about Amy’s disappearance. As one might expect, it’s really only a matter of time before his psyche cracks, giving us finally the rest of the story that was never adding up in the first place. It’s grim, of course, but his behaviors can lead to no other finale.
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“Charly is looking for Amy, who disappeared during a vacation. He decides to visit the hotel to finally solve the mystery once and for all. However, Charly's investigation is quickly derailed and leads him into a phantasmagorical nightmare.”
Without sounding bleak, there are a good many problems with Victim Of Love (2019), many of which aren’t necessarily obvious at first blush. It’s the kind of flick that the more you think about then the more you will either love or hate it; and that isn’t a bad place to be in and of itself. In fact, some of mankind’s personal favorite motion pictures are the kind of thing we go back to over and over again to revisit, looking for something deeper, hoping for greater clarity with repeat viewings, or cherishing a particularly moving sequence because it deserves another helping. Such circumstances might not always make for great cinema, but they definitely fuel some viewers wanting answers to questions they may not have the wisdom to ask yet still know there’s a gaping hole meant to be filled with something … no matter what shape may fit.
Similarly, Charly (played by Rudi Køhnke) has found himself in a similar situation: he’s apparently lost what appears to be the love of his life, Amy (Louise Cho), somewhere in Copenhagen, and he’s refusing to go anywhere else until he finds her, thus making himself whole again. Though he understands what’s missing, he still vacillates between moments of sheer listlessness and depraved debauchery, rarely committed in action to the search he insists to everyone he’s undertaken. Could it be that, secretly, he doesn’t truly wish to find her? Or could it be that somewhere in the darkest of dark hearts he knows what’s waiting for him at that intended destination and he wishes to avoid it at all costs? (If that sounded spoilery, then so be it …)
It doesn’t take long for the wild ride that is Victim Of Love to realize Charly is the screen definition of the unreliable narrator for a lot of reasons. First, we see very little time spent on his professed investigation. Second, we see him caught up in some drug and booze-filled frenzies exhibiting behaviors that suggest he’s far from the ‘concerned citizen’ trying to locate a presumed loved one. Third, we witness him over and over and over again partaking of some very random acts of unpredictable violence, an oft repeated state of mind which only hints that he likely knows more than he’s let on about Amy’s disappearance. As one might expect, it’s really only a matter of time before his psyche cracks, giving us finally the rest of the story that was never adding up in the first place. It’s grim, of course, but his behaviors can lead to no other finale.
So Victim is more of a psychological journey than it is a physical one. Of course, Charly travels to a few places in the city, but it’s more with the intent of finding a good time than anything patently useful to his stated mission. As such, he crosses paths with a few people; and everywhere he turns somehow manages to haunt him with another vision of Amy, often in a dreamlike state, often covered in blood. It isn’t as if the audience at any point in this ninety-minute runtime is given any pressing reason to believe that this cloud has a silver lining hidden somewhere in a distant corner of the sky. It’s always dark. It’s always foreboding. It’s always treading into territory we’ve seen trafficked by like-minded storytellers before. And we already know that it never ends well.
Because I’d seen so much of it before elsewhere, I thought the film grew increasingly difficult to celebrate even those things I usually do in psychological dramas of this variety.
While Køhnke’s work as the broken soul teetering between sanity and something vastly worse is occasionally impressive, director Jesper Isaksen never quite fleshes out anything else (other than some fabulous visuals) to richen the pot or for his actor to do. Everything in here revolves around his fragile and flawed personality, so nothing can be taken at face value. If you know that your narrator isn’t to be trusted, then there’s functionally no mystery as to what happened except for those particulars being withheld by screenwriting convention (also Isaksen’s job here). While some might see the actor’s work as demonstrating a great technical range, I didn’t because Køhnke spends moments either in sullen depression or barely reserved explosive intensity, leaving little to no room for anything further even in the quietest of moments. He was always in one mental state or the other, so where’s the range in that?
Charly is grounded at times with a burgeoning less-than-wholesome relationship with the free-spirited Felicija (Siff Andersson), a hotel clerk smitten as much by wanderlust as she is by altered states of consciousness. Though she shares her lover’s appetite for illicit substances, she still insists there’s a better life out there (over the rainbow?) in the big city; and she’s willing to pick up and chase that dream in a moment’s notice. In ways, Felicija is Charly – maybe an earlier version of him – but in a vastly more attractive and cogent package. I kept wondering if she, too, held some dark secret, but thankfully Isaksen used her more as a token demonstration of innocence lost or found, strongly implying she might become a victim of circumstance before this trip was over. (On that point, I’ll let you make up your own mind.)
Where I start to diverge from the popular critical consensus here is that where others found Victim’s endless parade of hallucinatory visuals supportive of the narrative, I thought they were more intrusive and a bit too obvious. Yes, they’re very, very, very good – there’s some incredible use of colors and angles and setting in here that really push the cinematography to another level, evoking a dour if not spectrally oppressive mood with incredible ease – but because they’re so pervasive they lose a bit of their utility in the process. It starts to all feel forced upon me, consciously willing me to see things only one way, and that way is the most evident. Constantly reminding the audience that you’re trapped within a surreal nightmare at every turn eventually wears the premise thin if not through completely: where other directors might’ve used a bit of restraint, Isaksen seems beholden to layering them atop one another incessantly almost as if that’s all there is … and nothing in life could be further from the truth. Pulling back a bit – allowing normalcy to return if even for small moments – might’ve given the onscreen talent and their respective work more time to resonate by itself. Instead, this one was full speed ahead for too much of the time.
Because I’d seen so much of it before elsewhere, I thought the film grew increasingly difficult to celebrate even those things I usually do in psychological dramas of this variety.
While Køhnke’s work as the broken soul teetering between sanity and something vastly worse is occasionally impressive, director Jesper Isaksen never quite fleshes out anything else (other than some fabulous visuals) to richen the pot or for his actor to do. Everything in here revolves around his fragile and flawed personality, so nothing can be taken at face value. If you know that your narrator isn’t to be trusted, then there’s functionally no mystery as to what happened except for those particulars being withheld by screenwriting convention (also Isaksen’s job here). While some might see the actor’s work as demonstrating a great technical range, I didn’t because Køhnke spends moments either in sullen depression or barely reserved explosive intensity, leaving little to no room for anything further even in the quietest of moments. He was always in one mental state or the other, so where’s the range in that?
Charly is grounded at times with a burgeoning less-than-wholesome relationship with the free-spirited Felicija (Siff Andersson), a hotel clerk smitten as much by wanderlust as she is by altered states of consciousness. Though she shares her lover’s appetite for illicit substances, she still insists there’s a better life out there (over the rainbow?) in the big city; and she’s willing to pick up and chase that dream in a moment’s notice. In ways, Felicija is Charly – maybe an earlier version of him – but in a vastly more attractive and cogent package. I kept wondering if she, too, held some dark secret, but thankfully Isaksen used her more as a token demonstration of innocence lost or found, strongly implying she might become a victim of circumstance before this trip was over. (On that point, I’ll let you make up your own mind.)
Where I start to diverge from the popular critical consensus here is that where others found Victim’s endless parade of hallucinatory visuals supportive of the narrative, I thought they were more intrusive and a bit too obvious. Yes, they’re very, very, very good – there’s some incredible use of colors and angles and setting in here that really push the cinematography to another level, evoking a dour if not spectrally oppressive mood with incredible ease – but because they’re so pervasive they lose a bit of their utility in the process. It starts to all feel forced upon me, consciously willing me to see things only one way, and that way is the most evident. Constantly reminding the audience that you’re trapped within a surreal nightmare at every turn eventually wears the premise thin if not through completely: where other directors might’ve used a bit of restraint, Isaksen seems beholden to layering them atop one another incessantly almost as if that’s all there is … and nothing in life could be further from the truth. Pulling back a bit – allowing normalcy to return if even for small moments – might’ve given the onscreen talent and their respective work more time to resonate by itself. Instead, this one was full speed ahead for too much of the time.
Lastly, Victim actually breaks the fourth wall with the audience on two occasions that I recall (there may’ve been a third, depending upon one’s perception of what happened, but I’ll ignore it for expediency’s sake). I’m always cautious about spoilers because I do like to preserve some of the delivered screen magic for those who might check something out based on my reviews, so this one is a bit difficult to discuss at length. Suffice it to say, I – as a viewer – am spoken to directly; and I’m just not a fan of such narrative trickery, especially if it serves no authentic purpose. In these two sequences, the film grinds to a halt to deliver a kinda/sorta aside that I believe Isaksen may’ve believed was in keeping of his character; but it didn’t work for me at all. What was learned was insignificant – marginal speechifying, at best – and their inclusion cheapened a good story that didn’t need the distraction all for the sake of doing something artsy.
Nonetheless, I’d be remiss in my duties of cataloguing All Things Genre if I failed to point out that Victim is a highly celebrated film in circles that matter to filmdom. It’s largely been a darling on the film festival circuit; and I’ve written before how some of those features truly do have a life of their own amongst those who attend them. (Hint: regular folks like you and me usually don’t embrace these various entries as feverishly or as fervently.) Allow me to politely say that this one feels like it was made for such academics who put a great deal of thought, debate, and mental posturing into such wares; and there’s nothing wrong with that. Where I differ with them typically is I see some of the finished sequences as being overdone, ultimately getting in the way of my appreciating the flick as much as they do.
Like minds don’t always agree, nor must they. I support a world that’s always to each his own.
Victim Of Love (2019) was produced by Bleed For This Picture and Mamba. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Warner Archive. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert … just wow. The film honestly looks fabulous from start-to-finish with colors either popping or simmering depending upon their usage; and the minimal use of Special and/or practical effects is very, very, very solid. Several of the sequences boast some cinematography that’ll give ‘those who like it’ something to mull over, so be prepared if that’s your thing to put in a bit of extra effort. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? Sigh. Sadly, there’s nothing more than some associated music videos along with a handful of previews for other films … a huge miss, if you ask this cineaste.
Alas … only Mildly Recommended.
Without a doubt, there’s an audience for Victim Of Love (2019), but it might not exactly be those for which it was intended. While its visuals are arguably stylish enough to stand alongside any that have appeared in the realm of Psychological Horror and/or art-house Slasher entries, the story – i.e. its narrative substance – remains exceedingly light and downright predictable at every step along the way. Performances are interesting, and yet if you already know where it’s heading then they, too, lack the polish to be anything revelatory. Don’t misunderstand: the two leads provide great dramatic counterparts. Still, nothing can replace the fact that it’s easy to see where it’s all heading, and the fact alone robs them truly breaking the mold for what’s possible in this unique sub-genre of storytelling.
In the interest of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Warner Archive provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Victim Of Love (2019) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
Nonetheless, I’d be remiss in my duties of cataloguing All Things Genre if I failed to point out that Victim is a highly celebrated film in circles that matter to filmdom. It’s largely been a darling on the film festival circuit; and I’ve written before how some of those features truly do have a life of their own amongst those who attend them. (Hint: regular folks like you and me usually don’t embrace these various entries as feverishly or as fervently.) Allow me to politely say that this one feels like it was made for such academics who put a great deal of thought, debate, and mental posturing into such wares; and there’s nothing wrong with that. Where I differ with them typically is I see some of the finished sequences as being overdone, ultimately getting in the way of my appreciating the flick as much as they do.
Like minds don’t always agree, nor must they. I support a world that’s always to each his own.
Victim Of Love (2019) was produced by Bleed For This Picture and Mamba. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Warner Archive. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert … just wow. The film honestly looks fabulous from start-to-finish with colors either popping or simmering depending upon their usage; and the minimal use of Special and/or practical effects is very, very, very solid. Several of the sequences boast some cinematography that’ll give ‘those who like it’ something to mull over, so be prepared if that’s your thing to put in a bit of extra effort. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? Sigh. Sadly, there’s nothing more than some associated music videos along with a handful of previews for other films … a huge miss, if you ask this cineaste.
Alas … only Mildly Recommended.
Without a doubt, there’s an audience for Victim Of Love (2019), but it might not exactly be those for which it was intended. While its visuals are arguably stylish enough to stand alongside any that have appeared in the realm of Psychological Horror and/or art-house Slasher entries, the story – i.e. its narrative substance – remains exceedingly light and downright predictable at every step along the way. Performances are interesting, and yet if you already know where it’s heading then they, too, lack the polish to be anything revelatory. Don’t misunderstand: the two leads provide great dramatic counterparts. Still, nothing can replace the fact that it’s easy to see where it’s all heading, and the fact alone robs them truly breaking the mold for what’s possible in this unique sub-genre of storytelling.
In the interest of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Warner Archive provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Victim Of Love (2019) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
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