Dir: Roy Andersson
All directors no doubt jot ideas down in their notebooks from time to time, but they should hardly make a film composed of a bunch of these ideas thrown together. This particular screenplay looks like it could have put together in this way in a single day. Here are a hundred dismally unimpressive snapshots of morose characters shuffling about in various degrees of depression. Some of them develop into little half-baked storylines, but never go anywhere in particular. It’s all supposed to be funny in that dry Scandinavian way, but Kaurismaki did it more artfully, intelligently, and subtly and never lapsed into the pretentious use of muted colours or having characters directly address the camera. Andersson’s grown men have an annoying tendency to start crying in public; he should also note that other people’s dreams are rarely of any interest – if he doesn’t understand that simple fact alone, then this director has little to inform us.
Cinema Cahiers 