Gone with the Woman

The woods are full of passive men who somehow can’t imagine how they got into that no-win romance with a domineering woman. But the total lack of self-awareness that draws them in, and strangely leaves them off the hook for lurking near that maelstrom in the first place, is what destroys this amazingly annoying romantic comedy from Norway. The nameless protag wakes up one morning to suddenly find himself attached to Marianne, a red-haired whirlwind who leads the conversation while saturating it with needless melodrama. Adding nothing to the relationship except a stunned expression, our man gets in deeper and deeper with this freight train of a woman until they’re both cohabiting with a bright yellow dresser and he starts losing his mind. Trouble brews when they go on a trip; he meets a comely French lady with less hang-ups; she decides to get some proverbial "space.” Will he win back his lady? Is it even a good idea? To make this movie work, you’d have to have some idea of what drives both of the leads, instead of just making them archetypes with one trait each. But people just sort of exist in this movie — nobody examines their motives or has any kind of credible back-story. In the end, you’re stuck with a wimp and a chatterbox for most of the running time, and even with occasional detours through the wisdom of Peter Stormare (whose advice would embarrass Burgess Meredith in Rocky), the thing is worse than dinner with a girlfriend’s parents who despise you. Incredibly, this thing was Norway’s submission to the Oscars this year, and even by the low standards of that contest it’s a pretty sad thing to represent your country’s cinema.