Love, dreams, longing-that's what the German titles of the three “Oslo-Stories” from the Norwegian writer and filmmaker Dag Johan Hauberud, who come to German cinemas every few weeks. However, the German rental has decided to publish the films in a changed order and to get started with the chronologically second film of the trilogy, before continuing with the Berlinale winner “Oslo-Stories” and the first part “Oslo-Stories: Longing”. In terms of content, this does little to the matter, since the three films are completely independent and – at least superficially – only connected to each other through the scene of Oslo. However, the choice of this strategy is interesting: With too much “sex”-according to the original title of the actual trilogy opening, which was also re-titled for the German audience in “longing”, the German audience would rather not be confronted at the start.
It also goes in “Oslo stories: love“First of all, for exactly: Sex. Because after the great love the protagonists are looking for Marianne (Andrea Bræin Hovig) and goal (Tayo Cittadella Jacobsen). And meet the island of Nakkholmen and come into conversation about her sex life.
Marianne (Andrea Bræin Hovig) does not yet know exactly whether the geologist Ole Harald (Thomas Gullestad) is something serious or not.
“Sex is never just sex”, Tor learns from the psychotherapist Bjørn (Lars Jacob Holm), whom he gets to know about the gay sex app, without having to sex. And somehow many seem to desire something different in this film than they may believe themselves. This is most clear in the form of Heidi, who feels personally insulted by the satisfied, sexually open single life of her friend Marianne. When Marianne tells her about a sexual adventure with a married man at the nightly ferry port, Heidi even reacts with a violent rejection. In doing so, she previously proposed to do something for the 100th anniversary of the city of Oslo with a sexually various interpretation of the 1920s frescoes of the municipal town hall, in which she believed that they recognized a song of praise for homosexuality and group sex.
This Heidi appears as a strange figure by the obvious contradiction between a contemporary sexual openness and a profound personal tangeness – and that can certainly be understood as a small break in the work of Dag Johan Haubereud. Because at its core, this hoodenudae is an interpersonal utopist who always describes a world in which we can all speak openly. Communication is everything at Haubereud, and it creates an intimacy and closeness even between a wide variety of people, who in principle always meet benevolently and understanding. This utopia is also preserved in “love” – and maybe gives the title a meaning in the first place, because strictly speaking nobody falls in love with this film.
Care instead of allegations
Marianne spends a night with Ole Harald, but does not deviate from her original decision not to get involved in a relationship. And something begins between goal and Bjørn when the caregiver looks at his random acquaintance in the clinic – and, with disregarding professional principles, offers him his help in the difficult time after the operation. But what exactly it is, what is created there leaves Haubereud open in principle. Love, friendship, solidarity?
“Care” would perhaps be a suitable word – one that sums up the Tor character, we get to know him in the first few minutes of the film as someone who has a lot of finer antennas for the perception of patients than the more pragmatic marian. And also one that characterizes Haubereud's worldview: a world in which we do not worry about each other despite all the differences, trying to see each other and what may be distinguished to us.
Tor (Tayo Cittadella Jacobsen) takes care of Bjørn (Lars Jacob Holm) after prostate surgery – whether from care or love? Probably everything a bit.
Connecting and differences-that could definitely be captured as a motto for “Oslo-Stories: Love”. Because also formally and atmospheric there are some deviations compared to the other two films of the trilogy. So “love” is much at night when he always indulges in evening moods. The Norwegian capital becomes the main actress again, for example, when Haubereud uses the stylistic device of the date foam that is otherwise used in terms of structuring of the event, only to show a nighting of the Oslo City Panorama.
Conclusion: sex is never just sex, and love can take on different figures. With “Oslo-Stories: Love”, one of the interpersonal utopias of the Norwegian director Dag Johan Haubereud in the German cinemas is to be seen-the two other films of his trilogy follow at short intervals. You can only wish them great success in the German (program) cinemas, because such warm, idiosyncratic and delightful films from a very original, new voice in the European cinema have been unable to discover there for a long time.