THE KINGDOM

Rip It Up, Issue 224, 1 April 1996, Page 40

THE KINGDOM

Director: Lars von Trier

Isn’t it exceedingly peculiar that in these times when discretionary leisure seems more and more at a premium, we are being deluged with what have become the latter-day equivalents of the three-volume Victorian novel — CD anthologies and films which shamelessly clock in at the three-hour-plus mark. The Kingdom goes one better: this Danish delight is four-and-a-half hours long. Our cousins in Copenhagen saw it, as it was designed, in four palatable TV instalments; for us, it’s a long haul at the theatre. Sustaining any film over this time scale is a challenge, and even more so for jaded aficionados of the horror genre. Don’t expect The Reanimator 3—- The Kingdom is distinctly lowkey. There are a few murky goings-on, past and present, in this monolithic Copenhagen hospital, but, in any case, with the film being shot in a pink/orange blur, the little blood that is spilt is reduced to generic dark patches. There are some bizarre touches to be sure, most of them caught by frenetic hand-held camera, ranging from Masonic rambles to a touch of ye olde voodoo. The occasional graphic moment (zombies munching on a patient’s arm) come far and few between, and the genuinely chilling (the reconstruction of the dead girl’s scream in the audiology department) aren’t really capitalised on. If tired eyes can cope with almost illegible

subtitles, there’s a lot of chatter to follow, from the Swedophile rantings of Ernst Hugo Jarevard’s pompous surgeon to the surreal conversations between two Down’s syndrome dishwashers. The stand out is Kirsten Rolffes’ determined ghostbuster. Like Mai Zetterling’s grandmother in The Witches, this performance almost touches the heart.

Be warned. This interminable saga ends with the worrisome legend ‘To Be Continued’. Von Trier jests not — a sequel is in production.

WILLIAM DART