Celebration is an intense film based on a exceptionally well-honed script. It is successful by any standard, as its international recognition attests, but all the more so as just the second feature film by a young Danish director, Thomas Vinterberg, and the first ever Dogme95-certified movie.

Historical Background: Thomas Vinterberg was born in 1969. He entered the National Film School of Denmark in 1989 and graduated in 1993. His graduation exercise, a short film entitled Last Round, was nominated for an Academy Award in 1994 and won Festival Awards in Tel Aviv and at the International Student Film Festival in Munich. Another short film by Vinterberg, The Boy Who Walked Backwards won prizes at the Clemont-Ferrand Festival, the Toronto Short Film Festival, and at the Nordic Panorama Festival. Vinterberg's first feature film, The Greatest Heroes, was made in 1996 and earned awards from the Danish Film Academy.

In the meantime, in 1995, Vinterberg cofounded the so-called Dogme95 movement along with fellow Danish directors Lars von Trier (see Zentropa, The Kingdom, The Kingdom II, and Dancer in the Dark), Christian Levring, and Soren Kragh-Jacobsen. The Dogme95 manifesto served as an implicit rejection of Hollywood's excessive infatuation with special effects, action for action's sake, gratuitous violence, and glamour over substance. These issues, incidentally, parallel my own reasons for disdaining many American-made films. So far, they have my attention. The manifesto, which was somewhat grandiloquently entitled the "Vow of Chastity," featured the following provisions (abbreviated):

1. Shooting must be done on location. Props and sets must not be brought in.

2. The sound must never be produced apart from the image or vice versa. (Music must not be used unless it occurs where the scene is being shot.)

3. The camera must be hand-held. Any movement or immobility attainable in the hand is permitted.

4. The film must be in color. Special lighting is not acceptable. If there is too little light for exposure, the scene must be cut or a single lamp must be attached to the camera.

5. Optical work and filters are forbidden.

6. The film must not contain superficial action.

7. Temporal and geographical alienation are forbidden.

8. Genre movies are not acceptable.

9. The film format must be Academy 35 mm.

10. The director must not be credited.

The manifesto then concluded with the following paragraph:

Furthermore, I swear as a director to refrain from personal taste! I am no longer an artist. I swear to refrain from creating a "work," as I regard the instant as more important than the whole. My supreme goal is to force the truth out of my characters and settings. I swear to do so by all the means available and at the cost of any good taste and any aesthetic considerations.

The foregoing is highly relevant to the discussion of Celebration (1996), known as Festen in Danish, because it was produced under the Dogme95 guidelines and became the first film awarded the Dogme95 seal of approval for meeting all of the Dogme95 qualifications. (Von Trier's film, The Idiots (1998), was the second.)

From my vantage point as a film critic and film lover, I agree with the Dogme95 diagnosis of the ailment afflicting the film industry, especially in America (and extending to an extent to Hong Kong and China, as in the latest efforts of Zhang Yimou), but I find myself disagreeing with the proposed remedy. It smacks of the kind of cleansing mentality that led to the excesses of the Cultural Revolution in China, as a device for purging decadent Western influences and class disparities. There is merit in the intentions, in both instances, but the proposed cure is as bad or worse than the disease. It's all well and good to keep in mind that technical wizardry should not overwhelm the story or the thematic content of a film, but it's another thing to proceed with a rather arbitrary set of constraints that will sometimes inhibit artistry rather than promoting it. Fictional artworks simply can't have the degree of realism of documentaries nor should they. Celebration turned out to be a magnificent film not mainly because it employed the Dogme95 tactics, but despite employing them. It successfully demonstrates that a powerful and well-structured script can withstand whatever degree of technical limitations you throw at it. By contrast, sumptuous visuals are never enough by themselves to make a film great. Tellingly, Vinterberg has abandoned the Dogme95 agenda. For his next film, It's All About Love, Vinterberg stated, "I'm no longer following the rules set in the vow of chastity. On the contrary, I have done everything I could to make It's All About Love a contrast to Dogme95 and my last film Festen."

The Story: The story revolves around the 60th birthday party of the patriarch of the Klingenfeldt family, Helge Klingenfeldt (Henning Moritzen), who owns a country inn, where the events of the film transpire. Helge's wife, Elsa (Birthe Neuman), his three surviving children, three grandchildren, and an assortment of friends and relatives have gathered for the occasion. Eldest son Christian (Ulrich Thomsen), who lives in Paris and operates a couple of restaurants there, has returned after a self-imposed exile from the family with an agenda in mind. His sister Helene (Paprika Steen) is also there. She is the family rebel, so to speak, a young socialist, an aspiring singer, and an anthropologist. She is dating a black man, Gbatokai (Gbatokai Dakinah), who shows up part way through the party. Then, there's the younger brother, Michael (Thomas Bo Larsen). He drinks too much alcohol, has a fiery relationship with his wife, Mette (Helle Dolleris), and, later, reveals himself to be deeply racist as well. Between his loutish behavior and his lack of success in life, he is something of an embarrassment to his parents. Not present is Christian's twin sister, Linda, who committed suicide sometime within the past year. During the course of the evening, a series of dramatic revelations turn the event into a family struggle over the dark and painful secrets in this family's past.

As the film opens, Michael is driving recklessly down the country roadway toward the inn, when he unexpectedly spots his brother Christian walking roadside. Michael yells at his wife for not informing him that they had passed his brother, stops, and greets his brother enthusiastically. Michael is a vulgar sort of man, wrestles his brother, a bit, with mock aggressiveness, while treating his wife and children with genuine hostility. He makes them get out of the car and walk the remaining distance to the inn so that he can ride and visit with his brother. Later, Michael bullies Lars (Lars Brygmann), the receptionist at the desk at the inn, into giving him a room despite his father's instructions to the contrary. While unpacking, Michael continues to berate his wife, blaming her for not packing his black shoes and leaving the soap in the bathtub. Michael and Mette do manage to call a short truce in their on-going marital warfare, for five minutes of aggressive sex. Michael also has to evade Michelle (Therese Glahn), a lanky waitress with long straight blond hair, with whom he has apparently had an affair and offered promises. Later, during the banquet, Michelle pours ice water in Michael's lap to express her unhappiness with him.

Helene, who is a depressive sort of person, is distressed to discover that she has been given the very room in which her sister Linda committed suicide. Linda had drowned herself in the bathtub. Helene insists that Lars inspect the room with her, half expecting to encounter Linda's ghost. Instead, Helene encounters clues that her sister left behind at the time of her death in the form of an old game that they had played as children, "getting warmer." Lars has to lie down in the empty tub in his business suit to look for markings on the ceiling that point in the right direction. After a series of such clues, Helene finds Linda's suicide note hidden in an overhead chandelier. She looks it over briefly before telling Lars that it said nothing, obviously lying. She carefully hides the note in a pill container.

Meanwhile, the toastmaster for the evening, Helmuth von Sachs (Klaus Bondam), has asked Christian, as eldest son, to offer the first toast. Christian taps on an empty wine glass to quiet the gathering and announces that he's written two speeches – one on green paper and the other on yellow. His father is to choose which speech. (I wonder what the other one had to say!) The title of his speech, Michael announces, is "When Dad had his bath." He tells the group that his father was an exceptionally clean man; he took many baths. He then proceeds to inform them that his father regularly raped himself and his twin sister during these baths. The stunned assembly doesn't know what to make of Christian's remarks, especially because he has had a history of mental instability, having spent some time in a sanitarium. So, a doddering uncle (Lasse Lunderskov) gets up next and begins to tell one of his patented ribald jokes. We, at least, begin to acquire an inkling as to why Christian has struggled in his relationships with women.

Christian exits into the kitchen, apparently intent on escape, having positioned himself out on a limb but accomplishing nothing. In the kitchen, Christian encounters the cook, Kim (Bjarne Henriksen), who was also his childhood friend. Kim apparently knows about Christian's childhood trauma, stating, "I've been waiting for this ever since, and you just run away. From your father, who drew lots for you and your sister. A brilliant start to your speech, drawing lots like your father." Bolstered by his friend's support, Christian returns to the banquet and, in another dramatic announcement, accuses his father of effectively murdering his twin sister. The cook orders two of the waitresses to search each room in the inn and steal the car keys of all of the guests so that none will be able to leave until this crisis plays out.

Elsa is next to offer a toast. She stands firmly behind her husband, describing him proudly as "everything a wife would wish for." She then proceeds to comment about each of her three surviving children. She describes how Michael was away from home from an early age, in boarding schools, then a school ship, and finally catering school in Switzerland. She tells him how grateful she and Helge are that he has given them three splendid grandchildren. She talks about Helene's accomplishments and even recognizes her boyfriend, though calling him "Gonzales" instead of "Gbatokai," which she finds too unfamiliar to get her mouth around. Finally, she describes how Christian was such "a creative child" who could tell such stories. She asks him to apologize to his father for the unpleasant one he has told tonight. Instead, Christian stands again and reminds his mother how she had once walked into the bathroom and observed her husband fully erect, with his two young children. When Helge had ordered her to leave, she had walked out and left them undefended.

This, finally, is more than Michael can bear. He and two of his pals drag Christian out of the Inn and throw him unceremoniously into the street. Christian sneaks back in through another entrance and they throw him out again, this time tying him to a tree in the woods. Many of the guests try to leave, but are unable to find their car keys or order taxis.

Christian manages to sneak back into the inn once more and goes to Helene's room, where he searches for the suicide note that he feels certain that his twin had left behind. Who would know better than a twin? He locates it in Helene's pill vial. Returning to the banquet, he hands it to her, reminding her not to forget it. The toastmaster announces that it is 10:00 PM and indicates that something important is about to happen. As an opener, he tells the audience that the epitaph on Alfred Hitchcock's gravestone reads, "This is what happens to naughty little boys." "It is time for a family tradition," he says, "The grand finale." A brother has asked that his sister give a toast. "Yes," says Helge, "Don't be shy!" Helene stands and slowly reads the suicide note from her sister.

Dear whoever finds this letter,

You are probably my sister or my brother, because you must be good at getting warmer.

Linda then goes on to say her fond farewells to all of her siblings, followed by this revelation:

Dad has begun having me again. In my dreams, anyway. I can't bear any more. I'm going away now as I probably always should have done.

Now fully exposed, the old man exclaims, "Pour my daughter some port so I can drink a toast to her. Is it my fault that I have such talentless offspring?" Christian inquires, "I've just never really understood why you did it," to which Helge responds, "It was all you were good for." "Well," says the toastmaster, "It is quite a job being toastmaster tonight. I must admit I hadn't tried it before." One imagines that he won't be trying it again anytime soon.

Well, the party finally breaks up. During the early part of the night, Pia (Trine Dyrholm), another waitress, with short, light-blond, hair, comforts Christian with sex and affection. Helene finds similar solace with Gbatokai and the two couples later gather together for some companionship in the ballroom. Meanwhile, the truth having finally sunk in, a half-drunk Michael demands that his father come out into the street, where he kicks him to the ground, tells him to shut up, and lets him know that he'll never see his grandchildren again. In the morning, the family gathers back in the ballroom for breakfast. Helge arrives with Elsa and offers a belated apology: "I see now that what I did to my children was unforgivable." "To you, Christian, I want to say, you fought a good fight, my boy." Though he claims this as a confession motivated by his love for his children, we might cynically observe that it was not forthcoming until the assembly effectively had the goods on him. Michael tells Helge to leave so that they can all enjoy their breakfast. Elsa remains behind with her family.

Themes: The main theme, of course, is sexual abuse of children. The film deals with the issue in a sophisticated manner, illustrating how, many times, victims prefer silence and keeping the secret in the closet to letting the truth emerge. There is so much humiliation for those who were victimized as youths that exposing the truth causes more pain, at least short-term. Exposing the truth is also, however, the beginning of healing. It is noteworthy that Christian asks Pia, during the breakfast, if she will come to Paris with him. He has begun to heal. Then, also, the film accurately portrays the initial unwillingness of peripheral parties to believe the victim rather than the accused. Part of that reluctance to believe an accuser relates to a healthy assumption of innocence until guilt is proven. That part we need to condone. The other part is the desire to avoid dealing with difficult and unpleasant truths. Celebration also presents the character Helge in a realistic manner, revealing his defense mechanisms and inability to understand the immorality of his own behavior. Another interesting element is the complicity of Elsa in the abuse by failing to recognize the truth of what was happening and to protect her children.

At the same time, Celebration touches on issues of racism, alcoholism, and classism. Michael is blatantly racist, first assuming that Helene's boyfriend must be a musician hired by the band. He tries to shoo Gbatokai away and is incensed when his sister hugs and kisses a black man. Later, Michael enlists a sizable fraction of the assembled guests in his racism by leading a round of a Danish folk song relating to "Black Sambo." Elsa, though a more compassionate person than Michael, is inadvertently racist, when she refuses to learn to pronounce Gbatokai's name properly and laughs off the indiscretion as quite natural.

Michael's abusiveness to his wife, children, brother, and, finally, his father, is linked to his excess alcohol consumption. Certainly there were extenuating circumstances in his altercation with his father, but the rest of the instances reveal an ugly temper let loose by inebriation. Helge's vile remark when he is exposed also reveals the role of alcohol in seductions. He says, "Pour my daughter some port so I can drink a toast to her." We imagine that he'd rape her even now if he could get her drunk enough. The film never makes explicit whether Helene was among the victims of Helge's overwrought libido, but her depression and her boyfriend's understanding of the family's problems suggest that she was. Michael probably was not a victim except that his being away at boarding schools may very well have been Elsa's way of protecting him from her husband.

Michael is also quite abusive in his treatment of Lars and the waitresses. He exhibits that sense of entitlement, called classism, that is often evident in the capitalist class. His father owns the inn, so Michael believes himself entitled to abuse the hired help. He had earlier seduced Michelle with promises of leaving his wife for her, left her pregnant, and then disappeared. Christian, by contrast, respects the cook and the waitresses and they revere him in return.

Production Values: Vinterberg and Mogens Rutov wrote a script for this film that is a marvel of taut and ingenious writing. The story is exceptionally well-paced, keeping the revelations spaced out with time in between to savor the reactions and altered dynamics. This essentially tragic tale is spiced with dark humor that is as ingenious as it is twisted. This is a dramatic and deeply touching story of Christian screwing up his courage for a difficult confrontation with wrongdoing. This film's gallery of characters is truly memorable.

The most interesting point of discussion for this film comes from relating its story and its success to its style of presentation – the Dogme95 philosophy. My personal judgment is that the script was so powerful that it could have survived almost any filmmaking style. That the style was that dictated by Dogme95 both aided and hurt the telling of the story, in different respects. The positive contribution form the Dogme95 approach was in the intimacy with which the story is told. Relying on a shaky, hand-held Sony camera (one of the smallest video cameras ever made) as well as natural settings and lighting, Vinterberg and his cinematographer, Anthony Dod Mantle, create a sense of a real family gathering shot by home video. We feel like guests at this banquet. The Dogme95 approach thus succeeds, to an extent, in creating a documentary quality of realism. The Dogme95 approach also arguably succeeds by focusing attention back were it most belongs – on the importance of a stellar script to the success of a cinematic endeavor. Where it fails the story, however, is that the graininess of the images and the poor lighting in some scenes is so severe, at times, that it actually draws attention away from the great drama and performances to the inadequacies of the cinematic techniques. There is also some senses in which Celebration actually obviates the supposed intents of Dogme95. Vinterberg uses intricate editing, simultaneously unfolding multiple threads and jump-cuts, which undermine any "realism" ostensibly achieved by the gritty filming method and other Dogme95 requirements.

The performances in this film are exceptional. Ulrich Thomsen's portrayal of the scarred but courageous Christian is nothing short of brilliant. His anxiety as he contemplates unveiling his big revelation is palpable. He fidgets and his lips curl up tautly. Thomas Bo Larsen provides an intense performance as the hot-headed and often contemptible Michael. Paprika Steen very effectively illuminates the inner pain of her character, Helene. Henning Mortizen delivers a magnificent portrayal of the manipulative and immoral Helge without depriving him of his humanity. Birthe Neumann absolutely shines in her one big scene where she delivers her toast and demands that Christian apologize.

Bottom-Line: Celebration achieved widespread recognition internationally, sharing a Jury Prize at Cannes and winning awards in Toronto and New York. The Universal DVD provides only a trailer as an extra but the film itself is provided in a stellar transfer – or at least as stellar as the Dogme95 film style permitted.

Vinterberg's fellow Dogme95 founder, von Trier, is often viewed as something of a poseur and headline grabber, so it's natural to wonder how much of Dogme95 was designed for attention-grabbing effect. The ground rules are about as arbitrary as some of the Epinions write-offs and serve somewhat the same purpose. Nevertheless, Celebration effectively demonstrates what can be accomplished within the Dogme95 constraints. The effect of the Dogme95 stylistic requirements on the worth of this film amounts to about a tossup, providing equal portions of benefits and detractions. Dogme95 strikes me as the reciprocal extreme from that emerging in the recent films of Zhang Yimou, Hero (2002) and House of Flying Daggers (2004). While Dogme95 suppresses glossy imagery, action, and special effects to magnify the importance of good story telling, Zhang (who had previously shown that he knows how to tell a good story) has suppressed plot and character development in preference for gorgeous images, technical wizardry, and lots of wire-fu action. Celebration is in Danish with English subtitles and has a running time of 106 minutes.


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You might want to check out these other excellent films from Denmark:

Babette's Feast
Dancer in the Dark
Day of Wrath
Gertrud
The Kingdom
The Kingdom II
Passion of Joan of Arc
Pelle The Conqueror
Vampyr

Recommended:
Yes

Viewing Format: DVD
Video Occasion: Fit for Friday Evening
Suitability For Children: Not suitable for Children of any age