Realização:
Lasse HallströmArgumento:
Paolo VacircaCâmara:
Mattias MonteroMúsica:
Oscar FogelströmElenco:
Tobias Zilliacus, Mikael Persbrandt, Lena Olin, Helena af Sandeberg, Oscar Pettersson, Anna Azcárate, Jonatan Bökman, Jan Waldekranz, Eva Melander (mais)Sinopses(1)
Esta mini-série conta a história de Arenas, um hipnologo que ajuda pessoas a resolverem os seus problemas, hipnotizando-as para se libertarem de memórias reprimidas e de segredos obscuros, mas que não consegue lidar com a sua própria vida. (HBO Portugal)
Críticas (7)
Um thriller decente com o desenrolar gradual de um mistério sofisticado. Alguns momentos são previsíveis, mas a história deixa sempre algumas perguntas sem resposta. Se cortassem os problemas conjugais, teria corrido melhor, embora uma certa lentidão hipnótica faça parte do jogo com o espetador. A atmosfera sombria de Estocolmo do inverno é mais fraca do que os cineastas pretendiam, mas Mikael Persbrandt como hipnotizador é excelente. Em fim, é o melhor do filme.
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An ex-hypnotist Erik is going through a marriage crisis when he gets a phone call at night, probably from a woman, but there’s a man at the other end of the line – a cop. Erik doesn’t hesitate and bolts, which makes his wife anxious, fearing that he’s cheating on her again. Two years ago, he did and she still doesn’t trust him. By the way, Erik loves pills. And when he sees an unconscious boy in the hospital, it turns into a very pleasant crime investigation, which is, after all, what the Northerners are so much better at. Even though as they say, all that glitters is not gold. In any case, I must admit that it wasn’t all that bad. I expected much worse.
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A truly hypnotic anti-detective story that has no tension, no charisma, and no atmosphere. Moreover, the script is so emphatically retarded that the barely average book by "Mr. and Mrs. Kepler" looks like a masterpiece compared to the film. The highlight of everything is the character of Joona Linna. I don’t think I have never seen a detective who lets a witness go who tells him at the beginning of the investigation that she knows the killer. And I've probably never seen a detective solve a case by sitting on the spot. Sorry, I have - his name was Zeman. In addition, Hallström filmed it unbearably statically (the whole family storyline is stereotyped to death) and in some places senselessly with too much flourish, as if the last thing he saw from a detective story came from the pre-Fincher Hollywood of the 90's. The result is so sexless and stupid that it offends.
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I understand that from time to time Lasse Hallström wants to break out of the box of creating tender dramas full of family silver and romantic tears, but here even he himself could never have possibly thought he would succeed. The entire snowy investigation remains sadly mediocre and unremarkable even in crucial twists, and the unforgettable cast of actors (with the honorable exception of the grumpy Mikael Persbrandt) doesn't change anything about that.
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Lasse Hallström has never been known for wild plots or dynamic forms, but what is excessive for a Scandinavian detective story is truly too much. Especially when an unreasonably long shot of a certain person soon appears, and persistent clues are served to confirm a suspicion, it becomes frustrating. Beorn should have focused more on figuring out why his wife is such a shrew within the context of her hypnosis.
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I wrestled with this film like a lion for its entire seventeen-and-a-half-hour running time because, ironically, Hallström isn't shooting like a total block of wood this time, and I even glimpsed something of a creative vision here and there. And yet how such a non-dramatic genre film, switching so insensitively between characters, with such a stupid script that never saw a story editor even from a distance, could ever have gotten released, you tell me. By the time the end credits rolled, I realized that two-thirds of the scenes in this film were completely unnecessary, and the withered Swedish faces, the constant gloom, and the stabbed little girl unfortunately couldn't save it.
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Lasse Hallström knows how to make films that I like, but when he gets a script that thinks highly of itself but isn't as mysterious or suspenseful as the creators would like, he doesn't manage to extract anything truly substantial from it. Nordic noir isn't always a treasure; sometimes it's just a detective story.
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