Although very few people in the English speaking world will have heard of it, it became an unprecedented hit in Denmark, the country in which it was made. Written, produced and directed by acclaimed director Lars von Trier, (Breaking the Waves), The Kingdom (Riget in Danish) emptied the streets when aired in Denmark originally, in 1994. It was compulsive viewing.
It was commissioned for television by network DR-TV and initially, five
episodes were broadcast, although since then it has become clear that these
five parts were merely the opening instalment of an ultimately twelve part
series.
Credited with such features as The Element of Crime and Europa,
both awarded at Cannes, Lars von Trier was quickly signed by DR-TV to shoot
another four episodes of the series, which went into production after his
feature, Breaking the Waves, was completed. These 4 episodes have
also been released at this point, as "Kingdom II" and filming on Kingdom
III is continuing at the moment.
No one could have predicted the success of the show, least of all von Trier himself. Despite (or perhaps because of) his many awards for cinema, he considered the television project something of a left-handed job, but he grew immensely fond of it, and it became quite dear to him. And to a great many other people too.
Since it it's original broadcast in 1994, it has been licensed to 24 territories for theatrical release, besides television deals for, among others, Russia's NTV. The Venice International Film Festival selected the production for a special screening, and from Venice it has never left the festival circuit. The 35mm blow-up went on to sweep the Danish Oscars ceremony, bagging six out of seven Bodil statuettes.
On my own travels through Europe I've caught it on half a dozen different stations of varying languages at one time or another. In fact, my first glimpse of KINGDOM II was while channel surfing through German TV stations about 1:00am and suddenly pausing as I recognised a bunch of actors. But not the scene. A quick check of the TV listings and I was suddenly wishing I understood German a hell of lot better than my pidgeon-French.
In keeping with that, it was when I was living abroad for the first time in England
that I first came upon The Kingdom. It was a welcome and happy accident. I was living
in a little town outside London called Bracknell. It was the dullest place
on Earth (or if not the dullest, then in the top 10 anyway) and while looking
for something to kill a Sunday afternoon, I found this double-video on sale in a shop.
Apart from the rave reviews on the video cover (which lets face it, appear
on almost every video in the world anyway regardless of quality) I had
no idea what to expect. I bought it, and watched the 300 minutes of it in one sitting.
I loved it.
Lars von Trier's hospital soap opera-cum-ghost story is set in a labyrinthine Copenhagen medical institution known as "The Kingdom". It earned that name when it was founded before World War I by Denmark's best and brightest, to accommodate patients from all over the Kingdom of Denmark in the most modern and advanced conditions. But as the story opens, the high-science veneer of the institution is beginning to crack. Inspired by the classic ghost films of the 1950s, some very strange things begin to happen in the sterile and technological setting of the hospital, starting with the nightly arrival of an empty driverless ambulance. It's not long before a habitual patient (with Munchausen's syndrome and a host of unusual spiritual beliefs) thinks she hears the voice of a child calling to her.
While this strange patient dabbling in spiritualism seeks to put an end to the 'exterior forces', there are a mixture of "normal" plotlines going on in the hospital. The sort of stories that wouldn't find themselves too out of place, in a series like ER. (Although this version of ER would be directed by David Lynch from scripts by Neil Gaiman and Matt Groening). A Swedish doctor who despises Danes is newly arrived and bringing with him a possible malpractice suit; the chief of staff is trying to push a managerial "Fresh Air" policy; interns have unrequited passion for nurses; potential single mothers try to keep a career; a doctor is trying to get consent to remove a diseased liver from a terminal patient to aid in his studies, and practical jokes in the morgue come back to haunt the jokers threatening careers and futures.
And yet amidst this normalacy, there are two kitchen workers afflicted with Down Syndrome. They appear occasionally throughout the episodes, isolated from the main action by their work in the kitchen. To anyone who has a bit of knowledge of theatre, these two perform the function of a Greek chorus, informing the audience through their dialog of what is happening in the floors above them. They are the only ones who know exactly what is going on. They just joke about it though. Afterall, they are removed from the action, and so the consequences do not affect them.
As it says in the introduction to each episode, the walls are breaking down. What is natural is joining with what is supernatural; the normal is invaded by the paranormal.
The series was made to frighten and to frighten a great deal. It accomplishes this in number of subtle ways. The mixture of realism and the supernatural, for example, as people who we have seen only in a rational and sane context begin to notice some of the peculiar things. Their minds try to make sense of it in a calm and scientific way. It's a running theme in the show that their arrogance becomes too pronounced, and likewise their consistent denial of the spirit, until towards the end, they are forced headlong into assuming a different viewpoint as things literally go to Hell around them. It's no surprise that von Trier is an avowed hypochondriac, who doesn't feel too good about Doctors.
A la Alfred Hitchcock in reverse, Von Trier appears onscreen at the end of each episode to offer a brief wry commentary, although unfortunately in the video version I own this only occurs at the end of each video, ie twice out of five episodes.
No opportunity for going over the top is missed, no ethical interdict is left untransgressed, no sensibility untrammelled. The mordant hospital humor includes some horrifically graphic operations--one involving power tools. And with shots of open brain surgery and even Romero inspired zombie like cannibalism in one scene, you may need a strong stomach. But not a single blooded frame is gratuitous, really. It's all held together by manic conviction and a well driven plot right up to the stunning and shocking finale. If you've been paying close attention, the ending to part 5 will leave your jaw on the floor.
The style and direction initially looks very cheap. I have heard friends of mine say that the series is very amateurish. A nervous, handheld camera peers over the actors' shoulders, jockeying for position in this virtually self-enclosed world. What you need to realised is that the gritty look to everything gives it an uncanny air of reality, like watching a CCTV of incidents which really happened. And the acting is first-rate. Stars include Sweden's Ernst-Hugo Jaregard; Udo Kier, a German actor who has appeared in Madonna videos; and Ghita Norby, winner of two Danish academy awards.
Like any self-respecting miniseries, The Kingdom deploys a large cast of characters, which helps the show move along at a fair pace, never becoming dull. Each one has their own depth and storylines which intermingle and criss-cross in an intimate interplay, like many of the workplaces in the real world. Danish-hating Swedish surgeon Stig Helmer (played by von Trier regular Ernst-Hugo Jaregard) mutters his pet imprecation of "Danish scum!" One doctor runs a black-market operation out of the hospital basement, while the hospital's inane director leads staff meetings in song, and Stig Helmer refuses to leave the hubcaps on his beloved sports car, as he eyes with extreme paranoia, the Danish youths in the area. Aspects of each characters storylines impinge on others.
Underlying even all of this strangeness is The Brethren, of which I won't say anymore because it's one of the great little plot devices I really liked in the show.
Very observant of human nature, which can make it disturbing (the mother tending her brain damaged daughter) as well as funny (the nurse who can't watch operations but loves horror movies) von Trier keeps the movie's various plots bubbling, until they simultaneously come to a boil in the hospital archives--and then spectacularly overflow onto a group of visiting government ministers, who are checking up on "Project: Morning Air"
No one is spared by the themes of this show. The Kingdom trashes New Age spiritualism as well as medical science, not to mention the Scandinavian sense of an orderly society. You won't feel any better about Doctors than you do about mediums or management. When it comes to administering the hospital, enlightened liberals are no less foolish than Neanderthal conservatives.
This is an astonishingly good and different story with much to credit it, in acting, themes
and direction. There is no one message or one moral or one point, with which to bash the
modern viewer insensate over the head. (Greed is bad! Asteroids are dangerous! Killing is cool!)
It is a rich tapestry of cynical, funny, enlightening, scary and uplifting moments.
Borrow it or rent it or buy it. Just watch it. (Pay attention.) And enjoy it.
