Review by Ben Bussey
Desperate times make for desperate people. We may think we’ve got it tough now, but hey, it could be worse; we could be living without technology in an unforgiving wilderness, in the aftermath of the Black Death. Whilst Escape might be reasonably classed as a historical piece, given it’s set in a period in our world’s past, there are definitely grounds to class it as a post-apocalyptic movie. That’s very much the mood as we follow an impoverished family of four whilst they make their way, wearily but contentedly, through the desolate yet beautiful landscape of Norway. But as we know, to show even the faintest sign of contentment within the first few minutes of a movie like this is to invite devastating grief – and it isn’t long before arrows come storming out of nowhere, and cloaked aggressors with knives and axes in hand charge down the cosy family wagon.
In no short order, adolescent Signe (Isabel Christine Andreasen) is the only one left standing; cutthroat woodland bandits can always find uses for a girl of her age, after all. But before you start thinking this is purely a tale of a young woman’s battle to survive the savagery of man, we see who the undisputed leader of the gang is: Dagmar (Ingrid Bolsø Berdal), a white haired warrior woman whose level of compassion is sufficient to make Margaret Thatcher look like Mother Teresa. There’s also an even younger girl in the gang’s camp, named Frigg (Milla Olin), whom Dagmar has raised as her own – and, in a very fucked up way, bringing Signe into the camp is meant to be for Frigg’s benefit. So just what can Signe do, knowing the people she is up against and the fate that awaits her? Well – there’s a clue in the title…
(Oh, and if you’re still sniggering about there being a character called Frigg, you’re not alone. I was in full Beavis and Butthead laugh mode almost every time her name was uttered. There’s even a moment in the deleted scenes when Dagmar says “do it for Frigg’s sake,” and I just about died.)
I must admit straight away to not being particularly familiar with director Roar Uthaug, or his frequent collaborator Ingrid Bolsø Berdal. I caught a bit of their first movie, the more conventional teen horror Cold Prey, but it left me a bit cold (pun intended of course); and though I didn’t know it at the time, I’ve seen Berdal in Hansel & Gretel: Witch Hunters and The ABCs of Death. It would seem, though, that Uthaug is one of the prominent figures, alongside the likes of Tommy Wirkola, Thomas Cappelen Malling and André Øvredal, who are establishing Norway as a major new presence in genre cinema – and Escape should do nothing to hurt that cause. Coming in at a spritely 76 minutes, it’s an intense, adrenaline-charged survivalist adventure with a hard edge, but also some real emotional content; and while it may often strain credibility, it’s never less than gripping.
So just how much of the old disbelief-suspension is required, I hear you ask? Well, the press release describes Escape as ‘The Hunger Games stripped bare;’ a frame of reference I’m in no position to comment on, given my almost complete ignorance of the Hunger Games franchise (beyond the omnipresent ‘Battle Royale with Cheese’ joke). If anything, Escape struck me as kind of a midway point between Apocalypto and the I Spit On Your Grave remake. As the 15 certificate might suggest, it’s nowhere near as brutal as either of those films, but it does play on the same basic concepts: a) battle for survival against merciless adversaries in the great outdoors, and b) hitherto fragile young woman suddenly develops the will and the skill to fight back. Without giving anything away, there’s one particular moment about two thirds of the way through that’s almost identical to a scene in I Spit On Your Grave 2010, and the female protagonist’s actions thereafter are very much along the same lines. Again, this is only a 15, so don’t expect shotgun butt-rape or anything; but seeing a young woman who could barely lift a bow and arrow in the first scenes, yet successfully defends herself with it in the last act, with virtually no training in the interim… yep, suspension of disbelief is most definitely required.
Of course, assembling a band of bastards to antagonise an innocent protagonist, making us hate them and long for her escape and revenge; that’s all well and good. What makes Escape more interesting is the complexity of its central villain. As cruel and hideous as Dagmar is, she turns into a completely different person with Frigg (heheheheh… ah, it never gets old). Unsurprisingly, there’s a bit of backstory here; before the end of the movie we do get to understand what made Dagmar the person she is, which – while not excusing her – does put her actions in a different light. It’s a meaty role, and Berdal does a great job with it.
Balancing things out, Isabel Christine Andreasen and Milla Olin give nice performances of their own as the young innocents Signe and Frigg (heheh… okay, I’ll stop now). One of the real benefits of the film’s comparatively short running time is the lack of extraneous dialogue; we get to know these characters first and foremost by their actions, and though both have clearly suffered tremendous personal losses we don’t get any of the kind of woe-is-me monologues we might anticipate from a Hollywood take on this kind of narrative. Happily, this means that, though the shadow of sentimentality does hang ominously overhead, Escape manages to avoid it for the most part.
The last, perhaps most significant thing to note about Escape – not unlike Troll Hunter before it – is what a good job it does of making the Norwegian countryside look gorgeous. The rocky woodland terrain under the silvery sky really is quite a sight to behold, and even though a lot of it was achieved with a hint of digital trickery, it’s still enough to stir the heart of the armchair adventurer. Throw a fast-paced fight for survival in there with compelling characters, and you’ve got yourself a perfectly agreeable way to spend less than an hour and a half.
Escape is released to Region 2 DVD on 29th July, from Entertainment One.