Director: Lasse Hallström Producer: Waldemar Bergendahl Screenplay: Lasse Hallström, Reidar Jönsson, Brasse Brännström, Pelle Berglund, from the novel by Reidar Jönsson Cinematography: Jörgen Persson Editors: Christer Furubrand, Susanne Linnman Music: Björn Isfält | Anton Glanzelius (Ingemar) Tomas von Brömssen (Gunnar) Anki Lidén (Ingemars mamma) Melinda Kinnaman (Saga) Kicki Rundgren (Ulla) Lennart Hjulström (Konstnären) Ing-Marie Carlsson (Berit) Leif Ericson (Farbror Sandberg) |
FESTIVALS:
1986 Berlin, Cannes, Sydney, Toronto, London
1987 Miami, Wellington
2002 Febio [Czech Republic]
This charming, bitter-sweet evocation of childhood is something of a minor gem. Set in the Sweden of the 1950s, it describes the 400 blows suffered by a resourceful, twitchy and energetic 12-year-old boy who is farmed out to country relatives when his antics and demands for attention prove too much for his ailing mother. Hallström nurtures from his young star (Glanzelius) a performance of remarkable range and maturity, presenting a poignant picture of youthful tenacity struggling to come to terms with disappointments and events that may be beyond his comprehension, but which he manages to negotiate with his quirky, open-eyed optimism intact. Witty, touching and perceptive as he contrasts the rural village and its strange but generous-hearted eccentrics with the harsher realities of the city, Hallström makes it a seamless mix of tragedy and humour.
– Wally Hammond, Time Out, 27 May 2016.
The skill and artistry of recent Swedish cinema is evident in helmer Lasse Hallstrom’s fifth feature effort in 10 years, My Life As A Dog, an exquisite look at childhood.
Based loosely on Reidar Jonsson’s 1983 novel about a rural-provincial 12-year-old equivalent of J.D. Salinger’s Holden Caulfield, Hallstrom, a script collaborator, obviously put a lot of personal recollections into his telling of Ingemar Johanson, who has a hard time adjusting to the atmosphere of his beloved mother’s house. She is bedridden with a terminal illness, but also given to temper tantrums alternating with a refuge behind heavy literary tomes. Ingemar tries his level best to control his mischievous pranks and high spirits.
To secure the mother her peace and quiet, the boy is sent away to some relatives in a rural community near the famous Boda glassworks. When his mother eventually dies, Ingemar finds elbow-room for his mischief when settling permanently with his soccer-playing, glassblower uncle, an amiable prankster himself, in a cozily tolerant household of no-nonsense love and happiness.
The year of the action is 1959, when the boy’s countryman-namesake won over Floyd Patterson in the world boxing champion fight, and little Ingemar, literally and in other ways, has some fighting of his own to do before he comes out the winner over his haunting memories of a dead mother and a dog left behind.
Actually, getting down on his knees to bark and to feign barking turns out to be the boy’s best means of getting around various moments of crisis. Otherwise, he is endowed with a charm so obvious that nobody can quite help loving him. As played by amateur Anton Glanzelius, dark-haired, slant-eyed and with a mouth of a multitude of expressions, there is nothing slick or cute about this Ingemar as there is nothing maudlin nor prearranged about the whole film.
Tomas von Bromssen as the curly-haired, blond uncle is a marvel of subdued humor and strength, and all supporting players seem caught in mid-action of real life.
Even though My Life As A Dog is obviously anecdotal, it has a smoothly moving narrative flow. Executive producer Waldemar Bergendahl, a veteran of his trade, has filled the big screen with every value of sight and sound a fair-sized budget would allow. The only value not on display on this film’s sleeve is its nostalgia.
– “Kell”, Variety, 18 December 1985.
1986 Berlin, Cannes, Sydney, Toronto, London
1987 Miami, Wellington
2002 Febio [Czech Republic]
This charming, bitter-sweet evocation of childhood is something of a minor gem. Set in the Sweden of the 1950s, it describes the 400 blows suffered by a resourceful, twitchy and energetic 12-year-old boy who is farmed out to country relatives when his antics and demands for attention prove too much for his ailing mother. Hallström nurtures from his young star (Glanzelius) a performance of remarkable range and maturity, presenting a poignant picture of youthful tenacity struggling to come to terms with disappointments and events that may be beyond his comprehension, but which he manages to negotiate with his quirky, open-eyed optimism intact. Witty, touching and perceptive as he contrasts the rural village and its strange but generous-hearted eccentrics with the harsher realities of the city, Hallström makes it a seamless mix of tragedy and humour.
– Wally Hammond, Time Out, 27 May 2016.
The skill and artistry of recent Swedish cinema is evident in helmer Lasse Hallstrom’s fifth feature effort in 10 years, My Life As A Dog, an exquisite look at childhood.
Based loosely on Reidar Jonsson’s 1983 novel about a rural-provincial 12-year-old equivalent of J.D. Salinger’s Holden Caulfield, Hallstrom, a script collaborator, obviously put a lot of personal recollections into his telling of Ingemar Johanson, who has a hard time adjusting to the atmosphere of his beloved mother’s house. She is bedridden with a terminal illness, but also given to temper tantrums alternating with a refuge behind heavy literary tomes. Ingemar tries his level best to control his mischievous pranks and high spirits.
To secure the mother her peace and quiet, the boy is sent away to some relatives in a rural community near the famous Boda glassworks. When his mother eventually dies, Ingemar finds elbow-room for his mischief when settling permanently with his soccer-playing, glassblower uncle, an amiable prankster himself, in a cozily tolerant household of no-nonsense love and happiness.
The year of the action is 1959, when the boy’s countryman-namesake won over Floyd Patterson in the world boxing champion fight, and little Ingemar, literally and in other ways, has some fighting of his own to do before he comes out the winner over his haunting memories of a dead mother and a dog left behind.
Actually, getting down on his knees to bark and to feign barking turns out to be the boy’s best means of getting around various moments of crisis. Otherwise, he is endowed with a charm so obvious that nobody can quite help loving him. As played by amateur Anton Glanzelius, dark-haired, slant-eyed and with a mouth of a multitude of expressions, there is nothing slick or cute about this Ingemar as there is nothing maudlin nor prearranged about the whole film.
Tomas von Bromssen as the curly-haired, blond uncle is a marvel of subdued humor and strength, and all supporting players seem caught in mid-action of real life.
Even though My Life As A Dog is obviously anecdotal, it has a smoothly moving narrative flow. Executive producer Waldemar Bergendahl, a veteran of his trade, has filled the big screen with every value of sight and sound a fair-sized budget would allow. The only value not on display on this film’s sleeve is its nostalgia.
– “Kell”, Variety, 18 December 1985.