Sometimes the magic of cinema is such that a film that doesn’t entirely work still absolutely works. I recently had that experience with Sirāt; here I am having it again with Armand (2024), a spare actors’ showcase that somehow makes its point by not entirely making its point.
A tense situation has arisen at a school in Norway, involving an altercation between two six-year-old boys. The school’s administrators — Jarle (Øystein Røger) and Ajsa (Vera Veljovic) — have invited the parents to a student-teacher conference, hoping to coordinate an appropriate course of action. They are nervous to approach the subject themselves, however, instead entrusting the conversation to the boys’ teacher Sunna (Thea Lambrechts Vaulen). The discussion begins when the parents arrive, whereupon disturbing allegations fly against Armand, the child of controversial actress Elisabeth (Renate Reinsve), brought by a troubled couple, Sarah (Ellen Dorrit Petersen) and Anders (Endre Hellestveit). The situation is highly sensitive, with the potential for catastrophic legal consequences, but nobody has the right words to address the problem, leading to an argumentative death spiral.
It took me a day of reflection to come to a firm opinion about Armand, which upon the closing credits struck me primarily as stagey but fine ensemble drama — led, unsurprisingly, but the wickedly talented Reinsve, phenomenal in the key role. Given the school’s muted palettes, the cryptic dialogue, and the circular, elliptical nature of the discussions, it feels at first like little more than a restrained indie experiment to contrast production limits against the loaded interactions of a high-octane cast. (A couple of notable lurches into low-budget surrealism contribute to that impression.) I wondered if story details were lost in translation, but eventually decided that is part of its devious strategy. The school is a microcosm, and the nebulous, combative argument is emblematic of broader societal inabilities to communicate without lies, judgement, and manipulation. The viewer isn’t meant to know precisely what transpired, which can make the journey frustrating, but there’s a juicy “aha” moment built into its thorny discourse, and while I’m not convinced it’s perfectly planted, the fact that it’s difficult to spot actually rather serves the point. A very interesting watch.
