‘Reedland' Review: Outstanding Slow-Burn Thriller Announces Potentially Major New Dutch Director Sven Bresser
Johan (Gerrit Knobbe) is a reed-cutter. As 'Reedland' opens, we meet him in his natural habitat, surrounded by hissing, shivering reeds shot in close-up, then in wide shot. It's a sonic and visual maze, the natural world's equivalent of TV static: earth-bound, mud-rooted and subtly threatening in its hypnotic, fluttering illusion of uniformity. Reeds are the perfect hiding place for horrors, as will shortly become abundantly clear, when a girl's body is revealed in the dirt, in all its helplessness.
A violent crime fracturing a tight-knit community is hardly a new subject for arthouse cinema, but it is handled here by freshman writer-director Sven Bresser with an original eye and a keen sense of how to generate a persistent atmosphere of foreboding. It was filmed in Weerribben-Wieden in the Netherlands, and the landscape is integral to this finely calibrated mood. 'Whispering' is probably the adjective most associated with reeds, giving the land the stark sense of harboring infinite witnesses who cannot speak of the crimes they have seen — at least, not in any language we can understand.
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Well-chosen place-name titles are more than just a convenient piece of orientation for an audience. When used judiciously, they plant a flag in that location, forever binding the place and the film together. 'Reedland' is not the name of a town or road, but a terrain that provides the physical and psychological setting for an eerily poetic character study.
Knobbe is an extraordinary presence as Johan, a widower who has worked at his job for decades, and is now also an attentive grandfather. As the camera studies Knobbe's weather-beaten face, you watch him, trying to place which Ingmar Bergman film you might know him from. But he isn't an actor, and you've never seen him before. He is an actual reed-cutter, discovered by Brasser during the process of researching and building the film, which makes his tightly controlled performance all the more impressive, and provides persuasive evidence of Brasser's aptitude as both talent-spotter and performance coach.
Knobbe's face is shaped by his work in the outdoors, in a way that you simply don't see with actors nowadays, when a high proportion of both men and women seem to be engaged in counterintuitive quests to make their faces, the primary tool of an actor, less capable of expression. Knobbe's, by contrast, gives lived experience — it is its own craggy, fathomless landscape.
In addition to Bergman, the lineage of European filmmakers into which this dark, finely judged film slots includes the likes of Michael Haneke and Thomas Vinterberg. But 'Reedland' also recalls Japanese director Kaneto Shindō's 1964 masterpiece 'Onibaba' with its hints of supernatural evil. There, as here, reedland is presented as a breeding ground for more than just mosquitoes: It contains madness and murder. The two films share some visual strategies, with reeds-as-labyrinth shots just as effective a motif now as they were 60 years ago.
Not to suggest that DP Sam du Pon's camera only gets landscapes to work with. Numerous vignettes of the small community's existence both in public and private afford Bresser and du Pon the opportunity to explore how people reconcile their public and private selves, on one occasion via the precise framing of a shot where Johan engages with pornography on his laptop, and we glimpse artwork by his granddaughter pinned to a wall in the background.
With a tight runtime, magnetic central performance and bleak but compelling subject matter, theatrical prospects could be potentially rewarding for an appropriate arthouse distributor. This is a film designed to be seen on the big screen, and while it should certainly have appeal for high-class streamers, it'd be a pity to see it skip cinemas. For audiences looking to take a step up from standard Scandi-noir murder fare on TV while staying firmly within the realm of accessible narrative cinema, 'Reedland' is an outstanding discovery.
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Yahoo
3 days ago
- Yahoo
Skyrocketing costs nearly sunk 'Wolf Hall.' So key players took a pay cut to save it
A second season of 'Wolf Hall' was inevitable. The first, based on Hilary Mantel's award-winning novels 'Wolf Hall' and 'Bring Up the Bodies,' arrived in 2015, before the third and final book existed, but producer Colin Callender optioned Mantel's entire trilogy from the outset. What wasn't inevitable was the wait. 'I always knew that we would come back to it at some point,' Callender says of 'Wolf Hall: The Mirror and the Light,' which premiered on 'Masterpiece' on PBS in March. 'Although I never imagined it was going to take 10 years.' 'Part of it was that Hilary took a long time to write it,' adds director and producer Peter Kosminsky. 'The first two novels were phenomenal successes. She became a celebrity almost overnight. But it was also a difficult book to write.' Mantel sent sections of 'The Mirror & the Light' to Kosminsky as she was working. He says she was daunted by the idea of reaching the end of her story about the rise and fall of Thomas Cromwell. Her writing was affected by the 'Wolf Hall' TV adaptation, which was nominated for eight Emmys. 'She was very open and honest that she was very influenced by the first season in writing,' Kosminsky says. 'Particularly the character of Henry.' By the time 'The Mirror & the Light' was published in 2020, returning screenwriter Peter Straughan had already adapted it. The production faced a delay due to the pandemic but was gearing up again when Mantel died unexpectedly in 2022. 'It was incredibly sad,' Kosminsky says. 'It also made me feel a tremendous sense of responsibility to bring her final novel to the screen.' 'Wolf Hall: The Mirror and the Light' follows Cromwell (Mark Rylance) as he navigates the tumultuous court of King Henry VIII (Damian Lewis) after the death of Anne Boleyn. Although none of the actors had been contracted for a second season, the hope was that the ensemble cast would reprise their original roles. There were a few obvious hurdles: Tom Holland, who played Gregory Cromwell, was now too famous, and Bernard Hill, who starred as the Duke of Norfolk, died before production (he was replaced with Timothy Spall). 'It was particularly complicated because we wanted to bring back as many people as we could,' Callender says of scheduling the production around cast availability. 'We knew at some point that we weren't necessarily going to get everybody back, but we did pretty damn well.' 'I was always anticipating coming back,' Lewis confirms. 'Being an actor is like being an athlete: You're the sprinter and it's the 100 meters. You're going to come on set for a brief amount of time and you're going to nail it. But there might be a lot of waiting before you get to the starter's block, all coiled and energized. I was like that for 10 long years.' Everyone had aged, but Kosminsky says 'that wasn't necessarily a bad thing' because the show covers 10 years of Cromwell's life. 'Across the series the actors age by exactly the right amount,' he notes. 'In a different world with a far larger budget and a lot more time for prosthetics and CGI, we might have been able to graduate that change.' Budget constraints were a huge challenge. Over the last decade, the proliferation of streamers has meant that public broadcasters like PBS and the BBC have to fight for crew and locations and can't match their competitors' budgets. The producers had to figure out how to tell the story in a way that felt like a continuation of Season 1 'without anywhere near enough money to do it,' as Kosminsky says. 'We cut and we cut and we cut,' he notes. 'Eventually it was either shut the show down, or the producers and the screenwriter and the leading actor essentially give back most of their fees.' So, weeks out from production, Kosminsky, Callender, Straughan and Rylance gave back significant portions of their paychecks to get 'Wolf Hall: The Mirror and the Light' off the ground. 'The reality is the cost of making this second season was literally 100% more, twice the amount, that it cost to make the first,' Callender says. 'It's a challenge that informs the whole of the British television industry in the high-end drama sector.' Kosminsky reassembled his original department heads, including cinematographer Gavin Finney, production designer Pat Campbell and costume designer Joanna Eatwell. The costumes had been sent back into circulation, which meant starting from scratch. 'When we came back, we all came back from a position of experience, rather than from a starting point of zero,' Eatwell says. 'That was actually quite liberating. It meant we could enjoy the project more. And not having the costumes meant we could move on and grow because the story is so different.' Ultimately, Eatwell's team made as many of the costumes 'as the budget could stand,' including all of Henry's sumptuous ensembles. 'He has to be the center of the universe, and that's what I always tried to achieve with him,' she says. 'Wolf Hall: The Mirror and the Light' was shot over 84 days entirely on location in Tudor-era structures around England. The schedule was adjusted based on when the historic homes had less tourists. Some locations had been used in the first season, but others were newly accessible. Hampton Court Palace, an actual home of Henry VIII, said no to filming for 'Wolf Hall' but allowed Season 2 to use its Great Hall. 'Wolf Hall: The Mirror and the Light' marks the end of the road for Cromwell, whom Lewis refers to as 'the JD Vance of the time,' and for the series itself — an experience that left everyone involved proud of what they accomplished despite the financial constraints and long time gap. 'We worried that maybe there wasn't a place for this kind of show in this TV landscape,' Lewis says. 'But, happily, we've been proved wrong. That, actually, if something's good people come and find it. It's been one of the things I've enjoyed most doing. The subject matter is intrinsically interesting. The material is endlessly deep. Aesthetically, it was so pleasing to be part of. And at the center of it is the reimagining of a very well-known, very well-documented piece of history through another man's eyes.' Get the Envelope newsletter, sent three times a week during awards season, for exclusive reporting, insights and commentary. This story originally appeared in Los Angeles Times.

Los Angeles Times
3 days ago
- Los Angeles Times
Skyrocketing costs nearly sunk ‘Wolf Hall.' So key players took a pay cut to save it
A second season of 'Wolf Hall' was inevitable. The first, based on Hilary Mantel's award-winning novels 'Wolf Hall' and 'Bring Up the Bodies,' arrived in 2015, before the third and final book existed, but producer Colin Callender optioned Mantel's entire trilogy from the outset. What wasn't inevitable was the wait. 'I always knew that we would come back to it at some point,' Callender says of 'Wolf Hall: The Mirror and the Light,' which premiered on 'Masterpiece' on PBS in March. 'Although I never imagined it was going to take 10 years.' 'Part of it was that Hilary took a long time to write it,' adds director and producer Peter Kosminsky. 'The first two novels were phenomenal successes. She became a celebrity almost overnight. But it was also a difficult book to write.' Mantel sent sections of 'The Mirror & the Light' to Kosminsky as she was working. He says she was daunted by the idea of reaching the end of her story about the rise and fall of Thomas Cromwell. Her writing was affected by the 'Wolf Hall' TV adaptation, which was nominated for eight Emmys. 'She was very open and honest that she was very influenced by the first season in writing,' Kosminsky says. 'Particularly the character of Henry.' By the time 'The Mirror & the Light' was published in 2020, returning screenwriter Peter Straughan had already adapted it. The production faced a delay due to the pandemic but was gearing up again when Mantel died unexpectedly in 2022. 'It was incredibly sad,' Kosminsky says. 'It also made me feel a tremendous sense of responsibility to bring her final novel to the screen.' 'Wolf Hall: The Mirror and the Light' follows Cromwell (Mark Rylance) as he navigates the tumultuous court of King Henry VIII (Damian Lewis) after the death of Anne Boleyn. Although none of the actors had been contracted for a second season, the hope was that the ensemble cast would reprise their original roles. There were a few obvious hurdles: Tom Holland, who played Gregory Cromwell, was now too famous, and Bernard Hill, who starred as the Duke of Norfolk, died before production (he was replaced with Timothy Spall). 'It was particularly complicated because we wanted to bring back as many people as we could,' Callender says of scheduling the production around cast availability. 'We knew at some point that we weren't necessarily going to get everybody back, but we did pretty damn well.' 'I was always anticipating coming back,' Lewis confirms. 'Being an actor is like being an athlete: You're the sprinter and it's the 100 meters. You're going to come on set for a brief amount of time and you're going to nail it. But there might be a lot of waiting before you get to the starter's block, all coiled and energized. I was like that for 10 long years.' Everyone had aged, but Kosminsky says 'that wasn't necessarily a bad thing' because the show covers 10 years of Cromwell's life. 'Across the series the actors age by exactly the right amount,' he notes. 'In a different world with a far larger budget and a lot more time for prosthetics and CGI, we might have been able to graduate that change.' Budget constraints were a huge challenge. Over the last decade, the proliferation of streamers has meant that public broadcasters like PBS and the BBC have to fight for crew and locations and can't match their competitors' budgets. The producers had to figure out how to tell the story in a way that felt like a continuation of Season 1 'without anywhere near enough money to do it,' as Kosminsky says. 'We cut and we cut and we cut,' he notes. 'Eventually it was either shut the show down, or the producers and the screenwriter and the leading actor essentially give back most of their fees.' So, weeks out from production, Kosminsky, Callender, Straughan and Rylance gave back significant portions of their paychecks to get 'Wolf Hall: The Mirror and the Light' off the ground. 'The reality is the cost of making this second season was literally 100% more, twice the amount, that it cost to make the first,' Callender says. 'It's a challenge that informs the whole of the British television industry in the high-end drama sector.' Kosminsky reassembled his original department heads, including cinematographer Gavin Finney, production designer Pat Campbell and costume designer Joanna Eatwell. The costumes had been sent back into circulation, which meant starting from scratch. 'When we came back, we all came back from a position of experience, rather than from a starting point of zero,' Eatwell says. 'That was actually quite liberating. It meant we could enjoy the project more. And not having the costumes meant we could move on and grow because the story is so different.' Ultimately, Eatwell's team made as many of the costumes 'as the budget could stand,' including all of Henry's sumptuous ensembles. 'He has to be the center of the universe, and that's what I always tried to achieve with him,' she says. 'Wolf Hall: The Mirror and the Light' was shot over 84 days entirely on location in Tudor-era structures around England. The schedule was adjusted based on when the historic homes had less tourists. Some locations had been used in the first season, but others were newly accessible. Hampton Court Palace, an actual home of Henry VIII, said no to filming for 'Wolf Hall' but allowed Season 2 to use its Great Hall. 'Wolf Hall: The Mirror and the Light' marks the end of the road for Cromwell, whom Lewis refers to as 'the JD Vance of the time,' and for the series itself — an experience that left everyone involved proud of what they accomplished despite the financial constraints and long time gap. 'We worried that maybe there wasn't a place for this kind of show in this TV landscape,' Lewis says. 'But, happily, we've been proved wrong. That, actually, if something's good people come and find it. It's been one of the things I've enjoyed most doing. The subject matter is intrinsically interesting. The material is endlessly deep. Aesthetically, it was so pleasing to be part of. And at the center of it is the reimagining of a very well-known, very well-documented piece of history through another man's eyes.'


Hamilton Spectator
17-05-2025
- Hamilton Spectator
What Depardieu's conviction and Cannes' response means for #MeToo in France
PARIS (AP) — For powerful men in France's film industry, this was a week of reckoning. Gérard Depardieu — the country's most famous male actor — was convicted of sexual assault. Two days later, the Cannes Film Festival barred another actor accused of rape from walking the red carpet. Together, the decisions sent a message that France had long resisted: that artistic brilliance may no longer shield those who abuse their power. For decades, Depardieu was revered as French cinema's 'sacred monster' — a towering talent whose gluttony, volatility and magnetism became part of his myth. With more than 250 films to his name, many believed he would remain untouchable even after more than 20 women accused him of sexual misconduct . Now, that myth has cracked. The verdict has revived a broader question France has ducked since the dawn of the #MeToo movement: Can a country that celebrates seduction and irreverence finally hold its male icons to account ? France has long lived its own #MeToo contradiction. That talent, charm, or intellect forgives misconduct. That the art excuses the artist. This is the land that gave the world Brigitte Bardot's pout and Catherine Deneuve's poise — and then watched both recoil when the movement came knocking. Deneuve has defended 'the right' to seduce , while Bardot has dismissed feminism outright: 'I like men.' But the ground is shifting. Cannes' seismic shift Depardieu was handed an 18-month suspended sentence on Tuesday for groping two women on a 2021 film set. He denies the charges and is appealing. 'It's the end of impunity of artists with a capital A,' Carine Durrieu Diebolt, a lawyer for one of the two women who won their case against Depardieu, told The Associated Press. The verdict represented 'a bookend for putting actors on a pedestal because they were talented,' she added. Two days later, the prestigious Cannes Film Festival barred actor Théo Navarro-Mussy — accused of rape by three former partners — from attending the premiere of the movie 'Case 137,' which he stars in, even though the file was dropped for lack of evidence. The women are launching a civil complaint. Navarro-Mussy denies wrongdoing. His lawyer said that she's unaware of any ongoing proceedings against him. Dominik Moll, the movie's director, said he supported the move. 'It was the proper decision,' he told the AP. 'Out of respect for the women, the plaintiffs.' Yet what stunned wasn't just the decision, but who made it. Cannes director Thierry Frémaux had long been seen as emblematic of the old guard. He defended Roman Polanski for years and continued to screen his films despite the director's 1977 guilty plea in the U.S. for sex with a 13-year-old. In 2018, when asked why Cannes still included Polanski, Frémaux said: 'These are complicated matters.' Frémaux opened 2023's festival with a film starring Johnny Depp , despite the actor's highly public legal battle with ex-wife Amber Heard over allegations of domestic abuse, in which he was never criminally charged. When asked about the backlash, Frémaux replied: 'I only have one rule: it's the freedom of thinking, and the freedom of speech and acting within a legal framework.' This week, the rules changed. 'The Cannes decision is of course linked to the Depardieu verdict,' said Céline Piques of Osez le féminisme ('Dare Feminism!'), a group that campaigns against sexual violence. '(They've) realized which way the wind is blowing. Frémaux is trying to right the wrongs.' Resistance remains Not everyone welcomed the verdict — or what followed — as a cultural turning point. Fanny Ardant, one of French cinema's grandes dames and a longtime friend of Depardieu, sat on his side in court . She is now directing him in a film in Portugal, despite the conviction. 'Fanny Ardant? She completely missed the point,' said Piques. 'She downplayed the violence, normalized it. That's rape culture, plain and simple.' Juliette Binoche, Cannes jury president and one of France's most respected actors, struck a note of restraint: 'He's not a monster. He's a man — one who has, apparently, been desacralized.' A justice system slowly opening In 2024, more than 22,000 rapes were reported in France. Fewer than 3% led to convictions. 'The Depardieu verdict shows there's progress,' said lawyer Anne-Sophie Laguens, who works with victims of sexual assault. 'But for most women, the barriers to justice remain enormous.' When Bertrand Cantat — front man of Noir Désir and once one of France's bestselling rock singers — launched a 2018 comeback tour, he had served just four years in prison for killing his partner, actor Marie Trintignant, during a violent assault. Despite public outrage, he returned to the stage and performed. 'That would be unthinkable today,' said Piques. 'The public mood has changed. What we tolerate has changed.' The shift in shame One breakthrough came not from a film set, but a courtroom in Avignon. The conviction of 51 men for drugging and raping Gisele Pelicot — who chose to waive her anonymity and insisted on a public trial, turning private horror into public reckoning — marked a turning point. For years, shame was hers. Now, it belongs to the perpetrators. 'It proved rapists aren't just strangers in alleys,' said Piques. 'They're husbands. Colleagues. Respected men.' That shift in shame is now rippling through the cultural world — once seen as a bastion of male privilege. Director Christophe Ruggia was recently convicted of abusing actor Adèle Haenel when she was a minor, though he is appealing; and actor-director Nicolas Bedos, was sentenced for sexual assault. Is this a victory for #MeToo? Slowly but surely, yes. The system that long protected men like Depardieu is not yet dismantled, but it is shifting. As one of the actor's accusers said through tears after the ruling: 'I'm very, very much satisfied with the decision. That's a victory for me, really. And a big progress, a step forward. I feel justice was made.' __ Associated Press journalist Louise Dixon in Cannes, France contributed to this report