‘Wildland’ review: Dir. Jeanette Nordahl (2021) [GFF]

After the death of her mother, seventeen-year-old Ida (Sandra Guldberg) moves in with her estranged Aunt and her older cousins. It’s clear from the outset that the family is hiding some shady secrets, but after becoming directly embroiled in their criminality, Ida finds her familial ties severely tested. 

Wildland strongly identifies itself as a crime thriller, but approaches it from a much more subdued angle. Although likely to be some part of a crime syndicate, Ida’s extended family don’t outwardly present themselves as such. Discussions around jobs etc. are spoken about around the dinner table in the same way as others talk about a day in the office. It’s all very mundane and straight-forward; it’s a simple business transaction, which is not overdone or glamorized, and with the exception of a couple of key events, is pushed firmly into the background. This approach from director Jeanette Nordahl draws the focus to the family, allowing their interactions to form the narrative; the bulk of tension lies with outsider Ida trying to find her place in her estranged family unit. 

Although not featured as much as some of the other characters, Ida’s Aunt, Bodil (Sidse Babett Knudsen), rules the roost. Her influence and power is felt even when she is not around. She’s the epitome of ferocious matriarch, but is written and portrayed in a manner that we haven’t really seen before. Bodil isn’t a pantomime villain, nor an overtly wicked person, and certainly doesn’t conform with the average gangster types. She’s a considered character, one whose driving force is to protect her family at all costs. The boundaries to exactly when and who counts as family makes for some fascinating viewing. For example, Bodil treats each of her son’s partners differently, their treatment seemingly linked to how much they have ‘contributed’ to the family. Relationships get more intriguing with the inclusion of Ida, who although family by blood, has yet to fully prove herself to Bodil. The hierarchy of the group has been intricately written and it is these nuances and dynamic shifts that make Wildland interesting to watch.   

With such a focus on the intricacies of the interpersonal relationships, Wildland takes a while to properly kick-off. Most of the first half is spent simply being around all the characters, gleaning little bits of information, and as such the pace is slow and sedentary. Even when a catalyst event occurs, which momentarily speeds things up, the film soon returns to its more considered pacing. By slowing the pace right down, Nordahl echoes the “it’s just business” / way of life, mantra of our family. There’s nothing exciting here, it’s just life. The mundane pace means that the film’s final moments really make an impression. It is in the film’s closing moments that Wildland sparks into life. Suddenly we have a juggernaut of violence, aggression, and high drama, and the viewer is rudely jolted from the sedation they have been experiencing. For many the change-up will be a case of too little, far too late, but is so shocking and brutal that the images are seared onto your retinas. These moments properly hammer home the film’s stark message about the longevity of families of crime. 

With so much inferred rather than stated, Wildland doesn’t reveal a great deal about anyone or anything. As much as this tactic tries to make everything mysterious and intriguing, the result feels more frustrating. This is especially true when combined with the gut-punch ending that is begging for more examination. A perfunctory analysis of a family of criminals, Wildland has a lot to say, it just struggles with the delivery. 

Wildland was reviewed at Glasgow Film Festival 2021.