Review of Songs from the Second Floor (2000) by Brian H — 22 Jul 2007

[size=3]Life used to be so much easier, or at least that?s what every grandparent mutters to anyone ineligible for an AARP card. It?s manifest in each generation to pass a similar message onto the next. Well, what does that mean for the unfortunate living in the apocalypse? Swedish director Roy Andersson has an idea, and it?s not pretty. In his stunning ?Songs from the Second Floor,? he creates a bizarre masterpiece, both morbidly funny and one of a kind.

The structure, if you want to call it that, is a series of set pieces chronicling residents in a Swedish town as they attempt to survive an infinite doomsday. The economy has collapsed beyond repair. ?It?s all about buying something so you can sell it later with an extra zero,? says a failing entrepreneur who resorts to selling statues of Jesus? crucifixion. But no one?s buying. Some characters reappear in multiple segments, while many have screen time amounting to little more than a cameo. However, each waste little time bemoaning the nightmare in which they are trapped. If you?re looking for a slither of happiness, stick to ?The Brady Bunch.? We are only provided with snapshots, but they are illuminating and unforgettable, seamlessly combining to form a ghoulish portrait of what could be if our financial system were to hit rock bottom.

Now, I know what you must be thinking. Sounds as depressing as a two-hour root canal, huh? But somehow, Andersson mixes farce with torment to create a social critique ripe with dark humor. Take Kalle (Lars Nordh) for instance. He is a furniture salesman who inexplicably sets his store on fire and then laments his bad fortune to insurance claimers. All the while, a parade of flagellants is whipping themselves in protest for no apparent reason outside his burnt down store. It?s quite a bit to take in at once. His son goes mad from writing too much poetry, which he later explains to a man sporting a white doctor?s jacket. As he continues, another man walks down the hall of his son?s mental institution and yells at the stone faced man, who turns out to be a patient, for stealing his wardrobe. In such a world, how can anyone keep their sanity? The humor in that scene and many others like it doesn?t translate adequately on paper. You have to see it for yourself. It?s so absurd you can?t help but snicker. We all have those gauche moments where we laugh at inappropriate times ? a funeral, church or wedding. Imagine a similar feeling stretched out for 90 minutes and you?ll better understand the experience that is ?Songs from the Second Floor.?

It?s the collision of surreal material and minimalist filmmaking that make this a true piece of art. For all the lunacy on screen, Andersson treats the developments as matter of fact. Each segment is made up of long shots with very few cuts, allowing the audience to watch the proceedings from a distance. The characters would make Romero proud, each like a zombie drained by his or her environment. Corporate bigwigs decide to sacrifice a young girl in hopes of turning their company around. Clergy, businessmen and townspeople gather as they blindfold the girl and watch her walk off a plank hanging over a cliff. No one lets out even the slightest peep. Yes, this is extreme and far fetched. But really, how would any society function under such circumstances? Everyone is searching for fulfillment but unable to find a means to happiness. This is civilization at its darkest. And we thought we had it bad.

Andersson takes aim at overzealous, capitalistic countries and delivers a cinematic poem sure to stay in the minds of all viewers. Part cautionary tale, biting satire and societal appraisal, you will marvel at the originality of ?Songs from the Second Floor.? You?ll either love it or hate it, but you owe it to yourself to see it. At the least, it provides a diversion from our relative torture, the gauntlet of derivative drivel bogging down the cinematic landscape today. Kudos Mr. Andersson, never has hell been so enjoyable.[/size].