Edvard Munch (1863 – 1944) is, undoubtedly, best known for The Scream. An expressionist symbol of human angst, his distinctive style of art is celebrated as being deeply human and meaningful. But it was not always the way. Rejected by the establishment and, indeed, by some of his peers, Munch committed his life to the canvas with little plaudits. When the Norwegian artist died, he left behind over 30,000 works of art.
Director Henrik Martin Dahlsbakken (The Arctic Convoy) divides Munch’s life into four unique parts. Aged 21 and exploring his first love; aged 29 where his new exhibit in Berlin is cancelled; aged 45 where he is institutionalised after a nervous breakdown; and aged 80 where he must hide all of his artwork from the occupying Nazi forces. Each era has a different screenwriter and different lead actor, giving them all a unique style and approach to telling Munch’s story.
In the earliest years of his life (that we get to see on screen), young Munch is played by Alfred Ekker Strande. He is spending the summer with his family in Vestfold, having returned from Paris. He is socially awkward; and disconnected from both his family and polite society. The colour palette here makes everything look somewhere between the works of Manet and Degas. The screen is bathed in verdant greens, rich creams, grey blues, sunrise yellows and deep ambers. Alfred Ekker Strande’s performance hints at the neurosis that will plague Munch for most of his adult life. His work is critiqued as “too simple” or “not quite there yet”, setting up a lifetime of feeling like an outsider in the art world.
It’s perhaps aged 29 (Berlin) and aged 45 (Copenhagen) that Munch is at its most intriguing. In Berlin, Edvard is given a contemporary setting. He uses a mobile phone; he attends a rave; he drinks in the park with his friends. It’s a bit jarring at first, but it’s clear that this is a film that is trying to do something different from a conventional biopic. It’s whilst at the aforementioned rave that Munch (Mattis Herman Nyquist) gives an impassioned speech about his art; how it is so much more than just a copy of what has gone before. He sneers at those who lose their identity in order to secure grants and funding. He is a non-conformist and proud of it. It’s the most insightful and inspiring moment of the entire film. There is also a beautiful shot in this era whereby a morning bike ride suddenly sees the dawn sky take on the brushstrokes of one of Munch’s paintings. It’s a fascinating moment, fusing contemporary and historical; reality and canvas.
In Copenhagen – with this era being shot entirely in moody black and white – Munch (Ola G. Furuseth) is at his most philosophical and melancholy. He indulges in existentialist monologues about the meaning of life. “I was born dying,” he tells a clinician. The speechmaking does make him feel a little too cold to demand our sympathies, but there is a clear attempt to verbalise the anxiety and depression that plagued the great artist.
Aged 80 in Oslo, Munch is played by a woman (Anne Krigsvoll), which is another interesting little note that this biopic has to offer. Henrik Martin Dahlsbakken frames his work beautifully, if conventionally. It’s the different styles of each era that lend the film something different. For a film about an artist, Munch (thankfully) manages to avoid a montage of frenzied brushstrokes. Instead, it treats us to the creation of The Scream and glimpses at other incredible works such as Vampire and Anxiety. You’ll also get to understand why so many of his works were filled with vibrant redheads and loving iterations of one particular muse, Milly Thaulow (Thea Lambrechts Vaulen). “Art grows out of joy and sorrow. Mostly sorrow,” he notes. This is a film that is incredibly keen to acknowledge Munch’s struggles with his mental health and the inadequacies that haunted him for his entire career.
By playing with era and style, Henrik Martin Dahlsbakken is able to present Munch as timeless – an artist for all ages. This multi-faceted biopic may make more than a few “safe” choices but, ultimately, delivers a unique take on the genre and its subject. Attempting to capture the spirit (and, perhaps, the tortured soul) of the Norwegian artist, Munch is one for art lovers and philosophers alike.
MUNCH streams exclusively on Viaplay US from the 17th September