Dragonflies
***
Reviewed by Lee Shoquist

The opening scenes of Dragonflies cast a romantic spell. We hear a man’s voice describe a young woman who became his salvation when he was at "rock bottom." And then a staggering amount of information is captured in near wordless detail, as we quietly eavesdrop on a happy, loving couple living somewhere near a reed-filled lake. They share a farmhouse close to the water. They live a simple life. The man seems much older than the woman, but from the way she looks in his eyes, it seems of no matter. He cuts her long hair. They make love. The wind whistles across the lake. In these extended opening moments, it’s like a small miracle to see such realistic-looking people in love, happy and content. The atmosphere outside is natural and soothing. Up front, we can tell they probably have a good life. Later, the arrival of a mysterious old friend will cast a shadow on their life, force them re-examine their love and make decisions about their future.

Eddie (Kim Bodina) and Maria (Maria Bonnevie) live in an old farmhouse on a lake in the Norwegian countryside. It appears they have a relatively new relationship, and it seems to be some sort of healing for both. They live in relative isolation save for an aging neighbor and a young, mentally handicapped boy who visit from time to time. But there are old secrets beneath the surface that are awakened with the arrival of Eddie’s old friend, Kullman (Mikael Persbrandt).

Initially, Maria treats him as a rather ungainly appendage to their low-key life. Soon, Kullman willingly becomes a psychological wedge between them. Just out of prison on a rap for a crime in which Eddie was also involved, Kullman’s entry into their world creates an unbearable tension between the three, introducing old loyalties, new alliances and sexual jealousy. Kuhlman has come to collect on his debt from Eddie, and Maria gets tangled between them, harboring animosity and anger of her own.

Dragonflies is an accomplished film, with a great sense of location and stunning cinematography – the reeds in the swamp figure predominantly in several haunting scenes that teeter on the edge of violence. And when there is violence near the end of the film, it seems real, as opposed to the standard violent climax we usually get in the movies. There are direct and immediate consequences to the violent actions that occur, and Bodina’s performance as the conscience-torn Eddie is remarkable.

There are well-developed discussions of fate, salvation and redemption in Dragonflies, none of them overt and all handled with subtle mastery. In the end, Dragonflies manages to discuss with literate subtlety the changes in life, that come suddenly, that happen quickly and undo much we’ve created.

I was reminded of a film Paul Schrader made in the early ‘90s, named The Comfort of Strangers. That film as well detailed a relationship that was undone by the violence of mysterious, insinuating interlopers. In the film’s climax, the police question a befuddled character: "Why didn’t you just leave? Why did you continue going back – continue seeing them?" Of course, there is no answer. Like that film, Dragonflies is smart and perceptive about the complex reasons why we sometimes keep difficult people in our lives when all signs point to trouble.

Dragonflies is a mature and often suspenseful adult film about love, loyalty and growth.

110 minutes
Not Rated
Sexual Situations, Nudity, Violence, Profanity
Norwegian with English Subtitles