Ensofter Overrated and overhyped

Konterr Brilliant and touching

FuzzyTagz If the ambition is to provide two hours of instantly forgettable, popcorn-munching escapism, it succeeds.

Nayan Gough A great movie, one of the best of this year. There was a bit of confusion at one point in the plot, but nothing serious.

Cinemucho Petter Naess's Elling (2001) delivers as a heartwarming coming of age comedy with a twist: the protagonist is not some teenager caught in the complexities of adolescence but a 40-year-old man caught in the complexities of basic daily living. The 40-year-old man is Elling (Per Christian Ellefsen), the winsome protagonist of this Oscar nominated film. Elling falls somewhere on the autism spectrum and lives a comfortable yet sheltered life until everything changes with the death of his mother and caretaker. Carted off by the Norwegian authorities when they find him distraught and huddling in his mother's closet, Elling ends up in an institution where he meets his roommate and partner in crime for the rest of the film, the lusty yet virginal Kjell Bjarne (Sven Nordin).All this plot is merely setup for the rest of the film and is communicated efficiently, though perhaps not elegantly, through a choppy sequence interspersed throughout the opening credits. The film manages to hit its stride when Elling and Kjell Bjarne venture out in the real world to live on their own in an apartment in Oslo. Prompted by their social worker Frank Asli (Jorgen Langhelle), the duo hesitantly takes on their newfound independence, navigating the familiar struggles of friendship, romance, and self-fulfillment in this well-paced crowd-pleaser.Right away Elling has trouble adjusting to his newfound independence. Explaining his troubles in an eloquent voice over, Elling says, "I've always had two enemies: dizziness and anxiety. They follow me wherever I go." This overwhelming anxiety is the root of Elling's resistance to participate in the everyday activities that Frank commands, like answering the phone, going to the grocery store, and generally venturing outside the apartment. After all, as Elling points out "Why have an apartment if we leave it all the time?!" Though many viewers may not share the fear of stepping foot outside their residences, Elling is downright relatable. This broad of appeal of the film is thanks in large part to Per Christian Ellefsen's excellent performance as the charming and nuanced Elling, a character not only tentative and bookish, but also funny, charming, and at times even grandiose.Ellefsen vivifies Elling with a nervous energy particularly apparent in a scene in which Elling and Kjell Bjarne have their first evening out alone at a local restaurant. Basking in the victory of their successful outing, Elling decides to give Frank a call to prove how well he and Kjell Bjarne are doing, but there's one problem: the phone is so far away and the path to it is so filled with people. Ellefson perfectly animates Elling's terror, moving with an inching, wooden walk and a furrowed brow that punctuates a wild stare. However, when Elling manages to reach the phone and make his first real phone call, Ellefson lights Elling's face with a glee just as intense as the terror.It would be misleading to praise Per Christian Ellefsen without also mentioning Sven Nordin's delightful turn as the lovable wannabe lothario, Kjell Bjarne. While Kjell Bjarne is initially much more easily motivated to risk the bustle of the outside world with the promise of women or food, he still craves the familiarity of institutionalized living. Accordingly, he and Elling decide to push their beds next to each other and turn their two-bedroom apartment into a one bedroom apartment equipped with a library/workshop. This sleeping situation becomes an important symbol of the quirky duo's codependent relationship and its eventual evolution into a rich friendship between two autonomous individuals.The friendship between Elling and Kjell Bjarne, and all of the growing pains it experiences, is another major theme in the film. Not only does the twosome's pairing provide rich source for comedy, but it also reveals the character progressions of Kjell Bjarne and Elling. Kjell Bjarne starts to drift from Elling's side as he becomes involved with the pregnant upstairs neighbor, Reidun (Marit Pia Jacobsen). Feeling the ever-so-slight sting of rejection, Elling decides it's time to have some adventures of his own, during which he meets a kindred spirit, retired poet Alfons Jørgensen (Per Christensen). Elling ponders incredulously in voice over, "Had I really made a friend without the help of the Norwegian government?" Indeed, he has, and more importantly, he reflects the basic human emotion of triumphant satisfaction, a feeling powerful in its universal relatability. It's the simple things in life, after all.Upon Elling's first solo outing, he dons shades and a trench coat, a superficial representation of his personal growth. However, by the closing of the film Elling no longer needs flashy new clothes to validate his transformation into a more fully self-actualized adult. The thematic relatability of the awkward process of growing up combined with the enigmatic acting by the main cast makes Elling's story one to empathize with, even if we aren't struggling with anxiety, experiencing our first apartment, or living in Norway. In the end, when he says of his new self, "Mama's boy, maybe, but a new dangerous version" we can't help but feel a twinge of pride not only for Elling, but also for ourselves.

heistad-933-254808 Elling, a comedy directed by Peter Næss, tells the story of an unlikely friendship between two middle-aged outcasts in Norway: Kjell Bjarne (Sven Nordin)—a sex-crazed virgin with a heart as big as his massive frame—and Elling (Per Christian Ellefsen)—an agoraphobic amateur poet who is learning to cope with the death of his mother (his sole companion for the past forty years). The two men meet in a fashion as unconventional as their personalities: in the bedroom of a state institution. As their relationship develops and they are released from the institution, they are set up in an apartment under the supervision of the surprisingly blunt social worker, Frank Åsli (Jørgen Langhelle). Here, the two men learn everything from grocery shopping, to conquering the colossal task of answering the phone. When Kjell Bjarne strikes up a romance with their lonely neighbor, however, Elling faces his greatest trial yet: complete independence for one night. The results of this test, and the many unexpected challenges of life that these friends face, make for an hour and a half of absolute delight. As we follow their extraordinary story, these bizarre heroes are able to make the seemingly mundane both fascinating and heartwarming. The chemistry between Ellefsen and Langhelle is tremendously funny and unwittingly charming, persuading us to root for the underdog with absolute ease. Both originally stage actors, it is clear that these men have mastered their craft. Their believable portrayal of such unbelievably kooky characters, make Elling more than just another feel-good film; it shows us how to connect with those who are disconnected. Ellefsen, whose character's stuffy upbringing comes out in pompous commands to his oafish friend, manages to win us over us with his puppy-like helplessness juxtaposed with an excessive pride for accomplishing what we would consider to be everyday tasks. Nordin, on the other hand, instantly warms every heart in the audience with his selfless spirit, using his brute strength, rather ironically, to help anyone in need.The true success of Elling, is that it wasn't originally intended to be a film. Ingvar Ambjørsen first brought the story of Elling and Kjell Bjarne to Norway with his novel, Bjødre I blodet (Brothers in Blood) from which director, Petter Næss adapted the play, Elling. From here the story evolved into the feature film, which surpassed its previous record of success. The usual traps of stage-to-film adaptations of awkward dialogue and unnatural movement (treating the set as a stage) are a non-issue for Naæss. The dialogue is clever but convincing and the actors move about the space as if it really is their home. Even the minor characters' reactions to Elling and Kjell Bjarne add to their believability, as they echo what we are feeling in the audience. Jørgen Langhelle's Frank Åsli as the social worker embodies our astonishment and slight frustration with Elling and Kjell Bjarne's ineptitude, while the retired poet, played by Per Christensen, expresses our sympathy for them. It is not, in other words, an intensely dramatic play shoved into the confines of a movie screen.Using the technique of voice over, Næss was able to capture the intimacy of the original novel. He uses first-narration so that Elling's life is not some freakish spectacle for strangers to gawk at, but rather, a story he wants to tell the world. Avoiding dramatic close-ups, the film never feels invasive. The camera movements, sound production, and lighting are all discreet so that the focus is never shifted from the story. Elling conveys what is often lost in big screen production: the beauty in the subtleties of life. As Kjell Bjarne realizes the exhilaration of love, our hearts beat flutters with anxiety too. Elling learns to trust himself and the world around him, and we wish he were in the theater sitting next to us. Elling is a story about the adventures of a sex-crazes virgin and an agoraphobic poet it's true. But they are more than just outcasts—they are artists, as their discoveries allow us to rediscover the wonders of living right along with them.

Laura Hein A simple film of simple people with simple intentions, Elling (2001), a Petter Naess film, portrays a pair finding their way through the welfare state of Norway. An authentic focus on the lives of these two men with mental illness grabs sympathy from the audience as they watch the everyday struggles of Elling (Per Christian Ellefsen) and Kjell Bjarne (Sven Nordin). After living the majority of his life with his mother, her unexpected death cripples Elling and his psyche, and we see Elling being forced out of a closet he had been hiding in by the Norway welfare people for his own good will. Elling meets his roommate, Kjell Bjarne who obsesses over the sexy stories Elling tells him. Eventually, the pair find themselves living in a big city welfare apartment provided for them by the Norwegian government. It is here that they build a relationship with their social worker, Frank Asli (Jorgen Langhelle) as they try living day to day life.The topic of mental illness is central to this film, as the two main characters had the Norwegian government intervene in their lives because they were unsuitable to live on their own. Naess chooses to not include the actual diagnoses of each character because he felt that including a clinical diagnosis for each character would dehumanize them. This choice is extremely effective in translating a very likable nature behind the pair no matter their psychological differences. Although, Naess had good intentions of making the two very likable in spite of their mental illness, it also may translate to the audience that all people with mental illness are such simple, good natured, likable people that must be taken care of by their respective state governments. Nonetheless, the simplicity of these two characters definitely grab at the audiences' heartstrings.The character of Elling is a staunch Labour Party supporter and Gro Harlem Brundtland enthusiast which is a major theme throughout the film. Once the unlikely pair move into their government housing, Elling insists on putting an almost angelic photograph of Gro Harlem Brundtland (a major supporter of the welfare state in Norway) in a prominent spot on their dining area wall. Elling has idealized Gro Harlem Brundtland so much that he constantly reads about her and almost substitutes her for his mother and for those who are taking care of him. Such strong support by Elling for this Party can be seen in political disagreements that he has with his new friends at a cabin where he truly believes everything the Labour Party has done is right and true. The viewer may question if Elling clung to this idealism once he could no longer cling to his mother… What seems to draw Elling out of his neurotic rut is the opportunity for new friendship and even family. Kjell Bjarne, no matter how different he is in personality, and Elling demonstrate their friendship when giving each other gifts on Christmas. They both pick something that is truly perfectly inherent to the others personality and this moment is one of the most meaningful and precious of the entire movie, granted Kjell's present was a nude woman on a watch! Elling and Kjell Bjarne provide each other with exactly what each other needs to balance out, which seems to be why the pair is so successful in living on their own and really creating their own family.For such a simple pair of characters, Naess provides a simple amount of locations for scenes. A large amount of the film takes place in the government provided housing that Elling is afraid to leave. Once Elling begins to shed some of his anxieties, we see both Elling and Kjell Bjarne in different places with different people such as a poetry house, cabin, or friends' apartment. Simple cinematic techniques are used as well to compliment the simple characters. The use of voice-over provides extra detail if needed that may not be interpreted from a scene. Besides this technique, there seems to be no flashy devices like those in Hollywood that catch a viewers' attention. But rather, the viewer is able to focus on the characters and their likability and simplistic nature.The film, Elling (2001), is an uplifting story with authentic characters that develop through being forced into the "real world" essentially. There are no hidden things to get from this film, as it is upfront and simple and only wants to provide the story of an unlikely pair coming together to form their own family.

Rebecca Lynn What do you get when you force a diminutive, neurotic mama's boy and a hulking oaf are forced to live together by the Norwegian government? This is the basic premise of Petter Næss's film, Elling. The film begins with the titular character, played with convincing neuroticism by Per Christian Ellefsen, being released from the mental institution where he has lived during the two years following his mother's death. Despite its morbid sounding set-up, Elling is a surprisingly lighthearted film that stays on the side of heartwarming without ever becoming overly silly or sentimental.Elling and his roommate, Kjell Bjarne (Sven Nordin), a giant interested primarily in food and sex, have been deemed ready to face the real world. The Norwegian government provides the pair an enviable, fully furnished apartment in Oslo in which to build their new life. They can keep the apartment on the condition that they make an effort to assimilate into normal life. This includes tasks that are seemingly mundane to us but panic inducing to Elling, including answering the phone and going around the corner to shop for groceries.The film arouses a great empathy in viewers. Though probably not to Elling's extent, everyone has felt fearful in certain settings, even if those fears are irrational. When Elling experiences these moments, Næss uses the camera to put us in his shoes. As the phone in the apartment rings, Elling tries in vain to ignore it, but it overcome by dizziness. The camera rocks almost imperceptibly back and forth, as if we might be overcome with anxiety and fall to the ground with Elling. As Elling learns to conquer his fears, the spinning rooms and rocking camera movements subside.Though they are pushed to action by the tough love of their social worker, Frank Asli, it is primarily Elling and Kjell Bjarne who comfort and encourage each other to grow and take risks. Kjell Bjarne feels little of Elling's fear towards the outside world. He expresses himself through his physical actions, without over thinking any process ("Kjell Bjarne seems to carry every person he meets…strange," Elling notes at one point). Where Kjell Bjarne is a man of few words, Elling is a chatterbox, and though he has trouble conveying it, he seems to possess a deep insight into the personalities of the people surrounding him. Though the two seem to have nothing in common, they form an intimate bond. One touching scene shows the two exchanging Christmas gifts: Kjell Bjarne has painstakingly constructed a model of their apartment out of thousands of matches for Elling, while Elling purchases a lewd watch with a woman on it for Kjell Bjarne ("How did you know I wanted the blonde?!" he exclaims gleefully).As the film progresses, Elling and Kjell Bjarne develop into more independent individuals while still strengthening their friendship. When Kjell Bjarne finds their neighbor, Reidun, drunk, pregnant, and passed out in the stairwell, the two form a tentative yet tender relationship. Though this initially causes Elling to pout and react with jealousy, it enables him to learn how to deal with being alone, which in turn leads to his discovery of his true calling as a poet. After this empowering experience, Elling boldly addresses Kjell Bjarne and Reidun's insecurities about their blossoming relationship and pushes them together When Reidun expresses doubt about Kjell Bjarne ("He never says anything. He's so weird," she complains to Elling), Elling advocates for him ("I prefer the English expression: 'rare,'" he replies).On an excursion to explore his new calling, Elling makes his first friend that wasn't forced upon him, an elderly writer named Alfons. Alfons, Elling, Kjell Bjarne and Reidun, each in their own way social outcasts, form an unlikely family, a support system to lean on. By the end of the film, Elling and Kjell Bjarne are not only on their way to becoming full independent members of society, but are actively benefiting the people around them.Elling never truly delves into the darker side of mental illness, and Elling and Kjell Bjarne's diagnoses aren't explicitly revealed. Kjell Bjarne often bangs his head against the wall and has a hygiene problem, while Elling is incredibly anxious and agoraphobic, but none of these behaviors seem to warrant an extended stay in a mental institution. Do the pair truly have mental illnesses, or are they simply socially maladjusted? Whatever the case, the film never makes cheap jokes about mental illness or uses it as an excuse to dehumanize or stigmatize the characters. Rather, Elling finds its humor in the exploration of two characters with diametrically opposed viewpoints working in tandem to create better lives for themselves.