Worlds Apart (To verdener)
Directed By: Niels Arden Oplev
As she comes of age, Sara (Rosalinde Mynster), a young Danish woman, finds herself developing new points of view that contradict certain tenets of her religion. When she is unable to squelch her attachment for Teis, an aspiring musician (Johan Philip Asbæk), as well as doubts about her faith, she is torn between two worlds. One provides the security of her religious foundations, her family and her community. The other will lack those significant elements but in turn offers true love and her freedom to express it, not to mention her individuality as a whole.
A great number of young people in their late teens go through the transitional phase where they begin to consider ideas and worldviews not imparted to them by their authority figures up to that time, in a quest to define their identity. In relaying this experience, Worlds Apart isn’t covering new ground. And though of course the stakes are increased when one is raised under any sort of strict dogma, even that dynamic has been explored in cinema. However, what’s unique is that the film is set within the framework of the Jehovah’s Witnesses, a denomination not often represented in film. It’s a welcome, original choice, considering less is known about the everyday particulars of its followers beyond the door-to-door proselytizing.
The narrative here is pretty straightforward, and were one to focus on where the plot is going, it’s a bit of a no-brainer. Better to focus on the journey rather than the destination, which is supported by excellent performances. Mynster makes strong, organic choices that support the see-sawing between tradition and fresh perspectives her character repeatedly engages in. Asbæk holds his own as Sara’s boyfriend who manages as best he can the harsh reality that whether she chooses her faith or him, some form of heartbreak for them is inevitable. Sarah Juel Werner is excellent in the understated role of Sara’s mother. And as a congregation elder, Anders W. Berthelsen is almost chameleonic in how his deep, velvety voice and piercing blue eyes conjure up compassion and kindness one instant, and a downright creepy and commanding underlying authoritativeness the next.
In quiet, emotionally charged scenes, minimalist dialogue and stark lighting are well-employed to create an even more realistic feel. Unfortunately, they are also used in conjunction with a good deal of shaky camera work. Sure it’s trendy, but it seems a static approach would have better suited those moments. Like unbroken silence, there’s something to be said for the tension a pointed, unwavering look generates.
Oplev is careful to steer from portraying the Jehovah’s Witnesses as caricatures, and indeed their humanity shines through early on as does the truth of their good intentions. However, the film- based on a true story- has no way of getting around the darker sides of the faith either as they factor into the plot- particularly, the practice of shunning. And needless to say, it’s pretty challenging for anyone with a shred of compassion to not take sides when witnessing Sara being suddenly and mercilessly regarded as a complete stranger by friends and family for simply having alternative convictions- convictions not based out of unkindness or spite, but out of love for another.
Marleah Martin