Christian Tafdrup's “Speak No Evil” Is a Horror Masterpiece

I don't watch many movies nowadays. Long gone are those lazy college days when I'd watch five or six movies in a row, and would easily reach a hundred or more over a summer. Now I'll just watch whatever comes up and catches my eye. A fairly recent example of that was Speak No Evil, a movie so gripping and methodical that it gradually changed me from a decided skeptic watching it just because it looked alright, all the way to an instant fan, apologist and preacher. It starts slow and it moves slow, which is something quite daring for a modern horror movie to do, but even more so when it spans a relatively brief ninety-seven minutes. I for one am always impressed by movies like that, movies that know what they want to accomplish and do so comfortably in a short runtime, and still manage to find plenty of time to breathe in between. In some sense it could alienate viewers, and I believe it has, at least judging by some of the harsher reviews it received, both due to the slow-paced nature of its story and also due to the constant bad choices on the part of the main characters. But I argue that those bad choices, though extremely frustrating to us as viewers, are nonetheless so powerfully gripping because they accurately map with reality, and because the film is essentially a critique of how in trying to be kind and polite we end up becoming positively stupid, weak and an all-around easy prey for anyone who, quite simply, does not care.

The faces of pure evil

And so this movie has a relatively simple premise – a mild-mannered danish family meet a mild-mannered dutch family while on vacation in Tuscany, and then get invited to spend a weekend with them at their home in Holland. They accept the invitation but things only become weirder and weirder until full horror sets in. That being the case there's no point counting on this present article to be a spoiler-free review per se. In many ways the game was rigged from the start, and the story doesn't exactly lead you otherwise, though I have a point or two to add there when I get to the ending... But then again what's so fascinating about Speak No Evil are all the little intricacies and twists that lead our danish couple further and further down the spiral that ended up being the worst, and last, weekend of their lives...

The movie opens with a night drive in a family car, a drive that will mirror the very end, but for now it's easy to forget it as it is largely inconsequential. We don't even know the characters in the car, and so the movie quickly cuts to beautiful Tuscany. The music is still piercing and rather ominous though, lingering well after the new day is shown, and it only stops when we are visually introduced to Bjørn, Louise and Agnes, our danish family. As Agnes is playing in the pool a man approaches Bjørn, interrupting his reading of a book called Open, a book he'll never get to finish by the way, and asks to take a pool lounge chair, which is currently unoccupied precisely because Agnes is in the pool. Afterwards we do see Agnes sitting by the pool, presumably bored but unable to lay in the sun... This immediately establishes the entire theme of the film – Bjørn and Louise, in being so kind and polite, are actually tremendously weak.

Then we have a scene where Louise is making sure the babysitter knows not to feed sugary apple juice to Agnes before bedtime, and even then she has some trouble drawing the line. The couple then go for dinner with an older couple who bore them to death with an invitation to take some italian cooking classes, an invitation they probably should have accepted... That boredom lasts until the same man from earlier interrupts everyone to give a toast, which lights up Bjørn's face... At the end of this sequence we are treated to a beautiful italian opera called Lamento della Ninfa, that soulfully contains a repetition of the phrase “non mi tormenti più” meaning “don't torment me anymore” which will prove to be prophetic. During this performance, Bjørn becomes quite emotional, which doesn't go unnoticed by the toastmaster, who sits beside his blonde wife... Later that night the movie decides to remind you it's a horror story when Bjørn, unable to sleep, goes to the balcony and sees that same man, who then seemingly disappears, like a vision.

The following day our characters are awkwardly trying to decide where to have lunch whilst being constantly interrupted by Agnes' pleas for Ninus, her stuffed rabbit that she must have lost somewhere along the way. Bjørn begrudgingly doubles back for it, tries to ask some locals with no success but just so happens to find Ninus anyway, sitting on a stone wall whereon Bjørn perches for a bit, overlooking the Tuscany landscape and wishing he could just run away from everything...

Upon returning he finds Louise and Agnes already in conversation with the same man as before, who is now introduced as Patrick, along with his wife Karin and their son Abel. In the midst of some boring polite conversation, Patrick decides to awkwardly, but very seriously, compliment Bjørn as a hero for having rescued the rabbit, to which Bjørn appears to feel legitimately buttered up. The two families then have a lovely italian meal, bonding over what they perceive to be the many similarities between the danish and dutch cultures, while Abel and Agnes seem to potentially develop a platonic crush so typical of childhood. And Patrick, as will prove to be a recurring theme, dominates the conversation with his humble-brag of being a doctor without borders, reinforcing Bjørn's belief of how dreadfully boring some people are, and complimenting Louise's vegetarianism for the environment. All of this will prove relevant later on... And funnily enough, Karin does suggest the couple come visit them in Holland, to which Louise replies by saying how it'd be great, shortly before being interrupted by the waiter. It's one of those polite statements we make, but why make it if we don't mean it?... Later that night the adults have dinner back at the villa, presumably further incensing this instant friendship.

But then the movie does something bold – it hard-cuts from the dinner at the villa to life back in Denmark. We see the family seemingly returning home for the evening, back to boring day-to-day stuff. It's not entirely clear how much time has passed. It would appear summer has ended or is about to end, as Louise mentions it's not truly cold yet. This is interesting but in some sense inconsequential because after reading Agnes a bed-time story, Bjørn informs Louise of a postcard they received – Patrick and Karin officially invite them to spend a weekend at their place in Holland... It's obviously a strange thing, at least I'd personally read it as one of those polite invitations one has to make but that the other person is pretty much expected to reject. Anyways, our dutch couple argue that though it's been a while, marking another time lapse indication, they had such a great time that they'd like to enjoy some more time together, and that Abel can't stop talking about Agnes, having developed his first crush... Bjørn seems eager to accept, as evidenced by how bored and fractured he seems, as he looks out the window.

No...

This constant boredom is expressed further still, because even while attending a school recital, in which Agnes has a flute solo, and then later at a dinner with friends, Bjørn seems positively distant. He brings up this strange invitation to his boring friends, thereby sorta manipulating Louise into accepting due to democratic pressure if you will, and she actually agrees with one of her friends who says it'd be polite to refuse. It would then appear that the dutch learned a thing or two from the sicilians.

Then we witness some more casual day-to-day stuff, such as the excitement of washing dishes, while the camera pans to the fridge, on which we see a photograph of both families during the summer, as an ominous Shining-esque tune plays throughout... They take a boat to the mainland of Europe, then it's a seven or eight hour drive to the house, in the middle of an admittedly beautiful nowhere, which in movie terms clocks in at around minute seventeen. From this point forward the movie will gradually and consistently increase the level of horror, mostly in the form of awkward social interactions and revelations. I get how that can sound funny but if you think back on any such moments in your own life I'm sure you'll think otherwise. I'd say the horror of this entire movie is captured by the common phrase – What in the goddamn have I gotten myself into?...

First, the house is a tad smaller than they excepted. The word “comfortable” is immediately used by Louise, a famous euphemism to be sure, and I suppose it is comfortable for three but the rooms are a tiny bit cramped, and natural light is somewhat lacking. The guest bedroom wherein Bjørn and Louise will sleep is obviously tinier and uglier than they expected, though they still compliment it out of politeness. Agnes is meant to sleep in the same room as Abel, who by the way doesn't speak nor makes eye contact, even while Karin shows Agnes the blanket on the floor, on which she is supposed to sleep... Then as evening falls on a friday we see Abel still totally uninterested in Agnes, watching TV as she maybe does some homework, and the adults gather around the kitchen island. Here some bad politeness is returned when Karin seems rather disappointed by Louise's little gift of some traditional blue cups, and Patrick actually seems to reinforce this. Then he politely forces Louise to taste some wild boar, thereby breaking her vegetarianism. I guess in some ways I'm describing a sitcom, but there's a strange atmosphere in the air, painted in dark browns and faint oranges, all of which marks this film as something decidedly strange.

After what we can only assume was an awkward dinner we see Bjørn going outside to take out the trash, which he is instructed to leave on a pile. Kinda weird if you ask me to have a new guest perform such tasks, especially ones that involve knowing the inner workings of the household. Kinda like when a host offers you a sandwich, insists on it, you accept just to be polite, and then he gives you permission to go into his kitchen and make it yourself... Anyway, this moment proves relevant as Bjørn finds a locked shed of sorts, and while he tries to peek we see Abel reflected in the glass. Bjørn is startled and then weirded out as Abel stares and slowly opens his mouth to reveal he has no tongue... Pretty creepy scene, especially with the rustling wind growing louder with the reveal of Abel's missing tongue, but the movie immediately manipulates you. First, by slowly increasing the tension by having the couples talking about their boring drive, what with Patrick indirectly shaming Bjørn for not knowing how to read a map, but still while Abel constantly groans in the other room. And second, by having said tension immediately deflated as we get the medical explanation – Abel has congenital aglossia, meaning he has no tongue or has an underdeveloped one. All of this presumably scares Agnes, who later crawls into bed with her parents, feeling instinctively afraid and asking to sleep with the light on.

Thus ends friday.

On saturday morning some more weirdness ensues as the families visit a mill, tasting some of the local delicacies while Agnes wants to try a slide but is unable due to a sullen Abel blocking her. This makes Patrick decide to drag Abel by the collar and force him to apologize. Bit of a weird moment... Always shocking to see harsher parenting styles, which causes Louise to share in her daughter's fears. As she later explains as much to Bjørn, that these people aren't pleasant to be around, she is interrupted by Karin who invites them for dinner at a “nice restaurant just up the road” that she'd really like them to experience while they have the chance. They agree and, while the movie had plenty of brilliantly written moments so far, this is where it becomes an ace... Because as they prepare to leave for dinner a white van pulls up. A middle-aged man named Muhajid, who speaks no english by the way, walks in. Turns out the dinner is just for the adults and so Muhajid is the babysitter, all of which Karin conveniently forgot to mention but gaslights them into thinking she did... Louise definitely doesn't want to leave her daughter alone with this man, but as the others rush to head out, and as Patrick pressures them to get in the car, and as she sees how Muhajid charms Agnes with some magic tricks, she reluctantly agrees.

The night is only now beginning though. The drive is dark, in between barren trees and through a deserted road, and it seemingly takes a good while to even get there. Furthermore, Patrick and Karin sit in the front and speak only to each other and always in dutch. The movie doesn't appear to give us any subtitles, and for a good reason as it adds to the sense of alienation. And I believe that is for sure intentional because the language alienation is only further amplified by the food they're about to eat, which Patrick kinda refuses to elaborate in any detail, simply saying he'll take care of them. And then we see another hard cut to this, the interior of the restaurant...

Complete and utter horror, or maybe I just scare real easy... The supposedly nice place down the road turns out to be a deserted dingy diner, run by an exceedingly tall and thin man. The whole thing seems almost too dark to be in The Sopranos but just about right for True Detective... Bjørn seems to be having a decent time though. Louise not so much as she seems concerned about Agnes and then as she gets called out on her hypocritical vegetarianism for the environment. Remember that earlier in Italy we saw Patrick go out of his way to compliment her, which also charmed very effectively, but now we have a full shift. In many ways this night mirrors that one in Tuscany – it was a nice villa full of people, now it's the middle of nowhere, it was a fancy place, now it's kinda nasty, Patrick and Karin were very polite and interested, now they are rude and speak mostly to themselves... Horrible night all around, but as they all drink even Louise loosens up and accepts her husband's invitation to join the other two by the jukebox, but they get a little too passionate and kill Louise's own efforts to have some fun dancing. And lastly, when it's time to pay up, even though he clearly offered, Patrick manages to get the bill split, and then paid entirely by Bjørn, all in a matter of seconds.

The drive home manages to be even worse, with Patrick driving drunk and blasting loud music, all of which upsets Louise, but still, weirdly enough, Bjørn is having a good time. Upon arriving she sees Agnes and Abel fast asleep, and becomes seemingly relieved. Turns out she misjudged Muhajid. So she has a quick shower to wash away that diner's smoke but she is interrupted by someone, presumably Patrick, who casually walks in to brush his teeth, casting a large shadow as he walks around the bathroom but then just leaves. Once again, a clear example of this movie's brand of weird but very realistic horror. It's not so much that nothing worse ever happened to anyone, it's more that this could and does happen, and the slightest empathy for the characters leads you to momentarily inhabit their skin. The whole thing sure is strange, and that strangeness is where true horror is, at least for me... And speaking of strange, as this situation causes Louise to feel unsafe, she lays in bed with her husband, only for her insecurity to turn to tenderness and that tenderness to love, as they begin to have a night they seemingly haven't had in ages... all while a drunk dutchman watches through the glass.

Then another interruption as Agnes goes to the bedroom door, knocking and asking to sleep in her parents' bed. They ignore her, make love, and fall asleep. Louise then wakes up in the middle of the night, searches for Agnes and finds her asleep... in Patrick and Karin's bed. She picks her up and immediately orders Bjørn to pack their bags and leave.

Thus ends saturday.

At this point we are roughly forty minutes in, with another sixty to go. It's dawn on a sunday and the family are leaving. Though Abel is awake, it would appear Patrick and Karin are asleep, and thus our protagonists escape quietly. The end.

Well, not quite, and at this point the movie is once again brilliant. As a viewer you know this isn't the end, and yet you hope against hope that they don't return to the house. But rationally you know they will, the story demands it, and so it's the screenwriter's job to come up with a valid and surprising reason to move them, like sacrificed chess pieces. Strangely enough, the movie comes up with two reasons. First, as the family drive away Agnes realizes she lost Ninus, and as we've seen previously in Italy, Bjørn will always relent to her. So with the sound of the collective groan of the movie audience, Bjørn turns around, drives back to the house, and parks the car. Louise and Agnes are supposed to wait in the car, but as they do, surprise! Ninus was in the car all along. So now what? As Bjørn takes a while to return, Louise goes to find him and catches him being brutally tortured. Well, again not quite, but she does find him in the kitchen having a very strange and apologetic conversation with a dumbfounded Patrick.

Now this would be the moment when Bjørn and Louise grow some backbone, but is it really? Maybe but just a bit. Bjørn fumbles with his words, and the first thing he brings up is the bed being a bit too small, a problem that is aggravated by Agnes not having a bed of her own. Immediately after that, Bjørn asks Louise for help, which reveals an instance of interesting body language as we notice he is standing somewhat in between, looking back at Louise and thereby placing him sort of on the side of his new friends, because after all he was having fun... And the first thing Louise mentions is being a vegetarian but being served nothing but meat. Only then does she mention the roadhouse restaurant, the loud music, the drunk-driving, and the displays of affection. It's a valiant effort, but Karin steps up with some of the best manipulation the world has never seen.

She apologizes for forgetting that Louise was a vegetarian, but immediately afterwards says Louise should have told them, which is actually kinda true. She apologizes for having a small house, hoping to gain sympathy from a wealthier couple who's afraid of seeming arrogant. She apologizes for Agnes having to stay in Abel's room, once again mentioning he was so looking forward to this even though the boy has been nothing but uncaring. She apologizes for the awkward displays of affection by arguing it was just a bit of fun, even though they also kept speaking in their own language and totally ignored Bjørn and Louise... Absolutely no mention of getting them to pay a super expensive meal, nor the middle-aged man as an unannounced babysitter, nor Agnes sleeping in their marriage bed. That last one is Louise's breaking point, which she brings up herself but is instantly shot down by Karin's manipulation as she guilt-trips Louise for not having answered Agnes when she came a-callin' at night... And it actually works. Then to seal the deal Patrick says they are free to leave, but promises a great sunday if they stay... and it also actually works.

This sunday starts off slow... Abel and Agnes are kicking a deflated ball around, Louise and Karin are doing some work around the garden, with Karin cursing in dutch as she tries to work the dull scissors, and Bjørn and Patrick go grocery shopping, at first in awkward silence but then they gradually open up as Patrick shares an emotional dutch song, claiming it's the sound of an angel and openly singing along as he stares at Bjørn. If this sounds weird it's because it kinda is, but not that much. Patrick just seems to do it impulsively, he's a free spirit, a trait that Bjørn seems to admire immensely, and now we discover why – Bjørn has been feeling quite depressed, as if there's something inside him that he needs to keep locked away. He despises his life of just waking up, taking his daughter to school, going to work, playing squash and having dinner with people he doesn't even like, all of which was previously hinted at. Bjørn has been decompensating for quite some time and has found in Patrick something of a role model to admire. This is further solidified when Patrick takes Bjørn to a strange site, full of sand and a weird-looking monolith, a place where they can scream as loud as they want. They do just that and then go back home to drink beer in an indoor pool, as the wives admire their husbands' newfound friendship.

A portrait of Tuscany above the watery grave that is this little pool

Things appear to be looking up a bit as the families get ready for a meal and the kids ask to show a dance they've been rehearsing. At this point Karin asks Agnes, a bit too forcefully, to set the table, which distracts Louise into cutting her finger. Luckily we have Patrick, the doctor without borders, to rescue her. Thing is, he's not a doctor... He admits, as casual as you like, to be unemployed and to not believe in working. Saying he's a doctor when meeting new people is just a lie he tells when he feels insecure. Big red flag, no doubt, but the man is so blatant that polite people just let up, even more so when during the meal he rambles on angrily about the underrated quality of dutch cheese, a monologue that only Bjørn seems to pay any attention to. Louise however is still distracted by Karin constantly telling Agnes what to do until she snaps at her.

And then comes the final break. After this meal the kids get to show their dance, and though it's clear that Agnes is much better, any normal person would just smile and cheer for both kids. But not Patrick... He keeps stopping the music and yelling at Abel to concentrate, to the point where he's visibly frustrated and throws a cup at the floor, one of the same blue cups the couple brought as a gift. At this point Agnes is terrified, Abel is crying, and it's only now that Bjørn snaps at Patrick, stunned at how anyone can raise their child like that, making his own son cry over a silly dance. This causes Louise to have a panic attack, which in turn causes her to yell at a concerned Agnes, certainly eliciting feelings of hypocrisy. Louise yells at Karin for telling Agnes what to do, but she herself yells at Agnes, and then both her and Bjørn yell at their friends for how they choose to raise their son. Obviously the situations aren't equivalent, and one parenting style is proven much better than the other, and who knows what Abel lives with when nobody else is around, but that's what manipulative people do, they turn your sense of decency and fairness against you...

This lady's face-acting is stellar... What a battle-axe!

This seems to break up the families for the last time, though they stay for the night rather than drive home in the dark. Big mistake... Bjørn mentions taking Agnes to her flute lessons on tuesday, a plan that sadly will never happen, and then goes to brush his teeth only to be interrupted by Patrick, who comes to urinate, does so, and then just turns around and smiles. Once again the boundaries are shattered, these people keep testing your limits and going further out still.

Bjørn then wakes up in the middle of the night, hearing Abel groaning and Patrick yelling at him. Once the yelling stops there's only an extremely loud television, as well as a running tap... and Patrick outside smoking a cigarette... Bjørn goes to investigate and sees that same shed as before, now with the door wide open, slamming in the wind. And it is at this point that the movie enters its third and final act. Bjørn walks in to discover a shrine of briefcases and cameras, as well as a museum of photographs of two families – on one side we see Patrick, Karin and a strange sullen child, and on the other side we see another couple with a very happy Abel holding a plush toy. All other pictures show the same pattern, that is, the sullen child seen with Patrick and Karin having been previously photographed looking all happy with another couple. This is a flat circle, a very specific modus operandi, and from now on the movie is just full-on blatant horror. Even more so as the new family is beginning to form, as Bjørn finds Abel in his pajamas, drowned in that very same pool.

This time he's the one waking the rest of the family up, quickly packing and getting in the car. There's no gas though, typical horror movie trope, but in keeping in line with sophisticated subversions Bjørn stops to get gas and just keeps on driving. He's eventually startled by a car that's following him, almost certainly Patrick, and so he steers off-road but gets stuck. He has to run to a house to ask for help, falling in a muddy lake, and all for nothing since nobody's home. In that sense I love how this movie almost makes it seem as though Holland, for all intents and purposes, is a deserted country.

Nothing makes you feel more in the middle of nowhere than an empty house... in the middle of nowhere...

By the time he returns to the car Louise and Agnes are gone. He falls into utter despair only to be momentarily soothed by an approaching car. It's Patrick, who just drives along, having received Bjørn's phone call and thus came to pick them up... Only no call was made and he takes the opportunity to quietly threaten Bjørn into the car. He does so under the condition that as long as they obey everything will be fine. I suppose this is the victim's last hope, that compliance might at least buy a few minutes of life, and all minutes are sacred... In the meantime Louise remains naive. It seems only Agnes can sense something amiss, just like on friday night. Patrick and Karin keep demanding silence, even from Agnes, something that Louise takes as tremendous disrespect. We have finally discovered where she draws the line, but it's all over now, baby blue cups.

They stop in the middle of nowhere, Patrick gives the light signal and Muhajid comes along to hold down Louise, all while Patrick repeatedly punches Bjørn. With both parents subdued, Patrick holds down Agnes, and Karin cuts her tongue, with those same allegedly dull scissors as before. Muhajid then takes the girl away and the couple remain in absolute shock. They are driven to that same place as before, where Bjørn had his revelation of sorts, and we finally get the motivation of our villains, namely that there kinda isn't one...

A face of “what just happened?” next to a face of “what are you gonna do about it?”

In that sense some viewers could dislike this, myself included. It's not unheard of in writing to have lack of explanation and lack of originality as a crutch, as a source of false mystery, but I don't think it's the case here. Incidentally, the original script would have included multiple other families doing the same thing, thereby indicating Patrick and Karin are part of a cult. But for one reason or another this was cut, and I believe it was the right decision to do so. The only explanation Patrick gives as to why he's doing this is, in his own words, because Bjørn lets him. I think it's all about how some people are just pure evil, but not just that, it's about how whatever you wanna do, if you can do it and if you can get away with it, then why would you ever stop? It's not so much a might-makes-right mentality, it's more of a it-don't-even-matter-what's-right mentality... And so Bjørn and Louise are ordered to strip naked and walk towards the dunes. As they embrace they are stoned to death, all while that same song plays, Lamento della Ninfa, only while previously it was the so-called garden version, now it's the aptly named death version. Karin then rests her head on Patrick's shoulder, as they admire their work with a sense of peaceful accomplishment.

And thus ended sunday...

However, the song plays on, even as our images shift from the aforementioned brutality into warmth and pool water. It's summer once again, beautiful italian summer. Kids are running around and playing, all under the watchful eyes of their parents, all of them potential victims, including a boy having lunch with his young smiling parents, and all in that same heavenly villa in Tuscany... And on its way is a new family, of Patrick, Karin, and a quiet Agnes, holding her Ninus. The end.

From where I stand this is a masterpiece through and through. It's visually striking, there's subtle but powerful acting from everyone, the music is chilling, both the instrumental pieces and the aforementioned italian opera, and the writing is what I love the most in horror – insane, and yet perfectly grounded in reality. A story like this could reasonably happen, indeed it most certainly happened to someone, one way or another. And if you remove the crazy ending you can say we've all been in similar situations, not quite as extreme but I'm sure we've all found ourselves in places we should not have gone to and just wished the moment ended quickly. In that sense I suppose a potential negative aspect of the film is that the ending proves obvious, and as optimistic movie-goers we wish the characters would stop being stupid. I do wonder if an alternate ending could have been written though, one where Bjørn and his family do try to escape, they cause a big mess somehow, the police become involved and get a report of everyone's stories but Bjørn can't prove any criminal acts because Patrick has a reasonable answer for everything. The police realize he may be a little bit weird but certainly not a killer. And then as they part ways, even in police presence, Patrick smiles and winks again, leaving us in the ambiguity. Did Bjørn and his family just barely escape two serial killers? Or was the whole thing a huge misunderstanding caused by two socially awkward people and two paranoid people?...

Another thing that could get you to dislike this movie is playing logic police, as in, for example, noticing how the danish couple told their friends they would visit new friends in Holland, how they had their picture up on the fridge, how they made a credit card purchase in that restaurant, and so on... And how the unemployed dutch couple seemingly generate no interest from anyone, even though every year they have a new sullen and mute child in their care... With those lines of reasoning you easily conclude how even the most incompetent detective or the most incompetent welfare worker would bust this couple pretty easily. But I think that's what works in horror, it's when the story constantly rides that line between realistic and insane. Is it realistic that they live in the middle of nowhere? Yes. Is it strange that the entire country seems like a surreal landscape where no one else lives? Yes... And is it realistic that an evil couple would do such a thing? Sadly yes. Is it very unrealistic how they seem to be above the law and even logic? Very yes, but that's what's so striking about it. My advice is to always make your horror movie villains strange and overpowered, and that's what these characters are. Around them nothing makes sense, and when some logic creeps in they always find a way to manipulate their victims out of it and deeper into the surreal nightmare they've entered...

Or didn't enter, as the entire movie could have been just as horrifying without the actual horror ending. I would actually have appreciated an ending like that, but likewise I also love the movie as is. It was inspired by a similar invitation the director received from a strange couple he met on vacation. He declined but always wondered, and as time went on he kept imagining crazy events until this movie took shape. In that sense and others I'd say it's an interesting commentary on, of all things, politeness, but not just mere politeness, it's more about how in polite society we constantly restrain ourselves, with that same restraint Bjørn feels suffocated by but that Patrick absolutely loves to ignore. I suppose some people are born a little nutty, and whether that be in small measures or rather significant ones, there will always be those who want to break the mold. And when they do will you be able to hold your ground or will you let others walk all over you? In other words, at what point does being polite actually become being weak and cowardly? When are we allowed to risk being rude or even downright arrogant and unpleasant in order to defend ourselves? After how many slaps on one cheek are we allowed to strike back? I think the problem, as it is hereby phrased, as well as its solution are actually found in the same book – Behold, I send you forth as sheep in the midst of wolves: be ye therefore wise as serpents, and harmless as doves. [Matthew 10:16]

As for me, the only remotely similar situation I've had in recent memory was back in college when a friend asked me thrice to spend the afternoon with him and his girlfriend. Unable to say no, though I desperately wanted to, I went along. At first he kept talking to his girlfriend about a birthday party they had to attend later that day, as well as insisting she acquired better standing posture, which was all very awkward indeed, but then he switched and kept talking to me whilst completely ignoring his girlfriend, which was very awkward indeedier. I only managed to escape an invitation for an afternoon snack because I had the triple aces of not having enough pocket money, not having much of an appetite, and the sun going down real low. Regardless, it is funny how falsely polite we often are, how acting kind and respectful, even in the face of disrespect or even just weirdness, is in fact a facade and a show of weakness. In my particular case I spent no more than one awkward afternoon, but as far as the events in this film go, this mild-mannered couple were easily taken over, all because when an unstoppable force meets a very easily movable object it will not stop until you yourself make it stop... Non mi tormenti più, and fight back.