A mainstream/art-house crowd-pleaser nonpareil, A MAN CALLED OVE, adapted (from the international best-seller by Fredrik Backman) and directed by Hannes Holm (shown below), is certainly this year's guilty pleasure. And guilt will be a by-product of viewing. Not having read the book, I can't say whether or not it is as manipulative as is this movie -- which, yes, left me in tears, even as I kicked myself in the ass for being such a patsy. The film withholds important information about its protagonist and his deceased wife for what seems like eons, and although it initially presents its hero as the world's worst curmudgeon, it takes far too little time before he is revealed as -- no? yes! -- an adorable old teddy bear, after all.
So far, so typical. But the story here is extremely incident-prone and consequently pretty interesting, while the performances from the four leads are terrific, going a very long way towards pulling us in and refusing to release us until we've experienced every last giggle, snort and tear. And oh, boy -- do we ever.
The quartet of actors who do so much toward making the movie special is led by star, Rolf Lassgård (above, and so good as TV's original Wallander). This actor nails every last moment and emotion quite beautifully. He's a consistent pleasure to watch in action.
Ida Engvoll (above) is the pert and precious wife of Ove, and she makes the most of her many flashback scenes.
Things move along, flashing back and forth in time, as expected, until the moving (and also expected) finale and denouement, handled with the same straight-ahead style and suds as the rest of the film. Those who've already read that novel will flock to the film, probably bringing along a few friends and/or spouses who can handle English subtitles, and who will no doubt leave the theater surprisingly satisfied and murmuring, "Hey, this was good!"
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