Bakerman is an independent film shot in Denmark by Irish Writer/Director David Noel Bourke and starring Mikkel Vadsholt and Siir Tilif. It has been described as a contemporary Falling Down and as a vigilante film. Some people even view it as a commentary on, or a response to, superhero tropes. I have to admit that none of these comparisons hit me while watching the film.
I was reminded of Camus’ The Stranger more than anything.
The film follows Jens (Vadsholdt) as he makes his way through the soul-deadening monotony of his life. He’s a baker whose bakery is under new management and he’s not happy with the direction in which the business is moving. He feels the quality of his work is being sacrificed for easy profit and cheap product. But no one listens. No one takes him seriously. He is rejected by women, intimidated by his boss, and threatened on the street by yobs (as the official synopsis calls them).
One day, when he leaves work he finds his car window smashed and one of said yobs wearing his sunglasses, he tries to let it go, but can’t. With a swift attack, he murders the young man and takes back his sunglasses. From there, the film dives even deeper into Jens’ psychology without ever veering into exploitation.
This is a quiet film about a man pushed past his limit. And ultimately it’s about loneliness and isolation… with a few murders sprinkled in.
In retrospect, I can see the Falling Down angle, except that film was more about cis white male anxiety than anything else. It’s an easy comparison to make if you just ignore everything but the most surface aspects of Bakerman. And in a way, this film hints at becoming a vigilante movie, although that plays out more as an impulsive act of self-actualization than as a plot device.
The reason I was reminded of The Stranger is that this film emphasizes the absurd meaninglessness of life. Jens’ Sisyphean life of continual repetition and ritual is almost entirely empty of human contact. He goes out with his co-worker now and then and he referees youth soccer, but he’s physically cut off from everyone. Even his relationship with his sister is resigned to doting and he won’t let himself be around her son, even for his confirmation.
This and another plot point imply that he may have done something horrible earlier in his life that he was never punished for and his hermit-like existence is his way of making sure that nothing like that ever happens again. But Bourke’s script and direction forces the viewer to make that assumption without ever making it obvious.
That’s a good thing.
To be honest, nothing in Bakerman is obvious. There’s a subtlety to every aspect of this film that is inspiring to see from an independent filmmaker (and I’m a huge fan of over-the-top exploitation madness). A large part of that subtlety comes from Vadsholdt’s performance. Even when Jens does something that, in the hands of another director, could play more ridiculous, comical, or even evil, he brings an emotional intensity that grounds the experience in loneliness and barely repressed sorrow. I wouldn’t even go so far as to say that Jens is an anti-hero (although that’s more apt than anyone calling this a story about heroism). He’s just a man, alone and on the verge of losing everything. He does horrible things, but this is a world where there is no justice, no ultimate right and wrong. Does the one unselfish, good thing he does cancel out the bad? That’s up to you.
Vadsholdt makes this movie work, but without the brutally honest performance by Tilif as Mozan, we might not, as viewers, be able to allow Jens his redemption. And what began as a meditation on the repetitive monotony of life and evolved into an exploration of repressed violence, becomes a heartbreakingly honest expression of love overcoming loneliness.
If you get the chance to see Bakerman, you should not pass it up.
This is the good shit.
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