Put two married couples in small cabins right next to each other. Pile up a huge amount of snow during a long and lonely Norwegian winter, have them in the middle of nowhere and preferably during the deep Norwegian winter. Then relax, enjoy, wait and see what happens!
Director Anne Serwitsky could not wait to find out and explores in her newest, dark humored comedy Sykt Lykkelig the effects and outcomes of such constellations.
In that movie, four people in their late thirties are forced into close neighborhood on the Norwegian countryside where they sing, drink and play and where it finally all results in affairs, choir performances, and butt-naked hunts through the snow.
But the story is not just a collection of random mid-life crisis related incidences. It is a story about interpersonal relations, about late and final revelations, about the abysm behind all facade and about the struggle to feel appreciated by another human being. It is dominated by the contrast between a perfectly composed harmony and the simple oddness of partnership. The contrast between the neat order of how things supposedly have to be done in such a rural community and on the other hand how far two partners can drift apart from each other in the meantime. There is loving father, there are board games, peaceful silence of woods and yet gay husband and secret desires.
Nevertheless Serwitsky does not want to teach a lesson. She arranges all of it in the mood of a light hearted, slightly grim sense of humor. A male quartet sings along while homosexuality is revealed, a severe dialogue is followed by two kids playing slave and master and all awkward moments just seem to pile up until you burst into laughter. It paints a picture of the seriousness, the struggle and fury in relationships while also simply making you laugh at its complete absurdity and undeniable oddity.