Anders Thomas Jensen‘s most recent film, “Riders of Justice” leaves you hooked in for its entire 1:16 minutes. It is not preachy but deeply touching. The revenge story of a family destroyed by a seemingly accidental situation turns into a philosophical film that makes us think about many aspects of our existence, actions, relationship, and why and whom we live for in this world. The cast is an ensemble of the best Danish cinema has to offer, and performances are stellar, to say the last- Markus (Mads Mikkelsen), Mathilde (Andrea Heick Gadeberg), Otto (Nikolaj Lie Kass), Lennart (Lars Brygmann), and Emmenthaler (Nicolas Bro). The characters propelled the storyline, the underlying themes and created one of the finest acting ensembles and unnerving films of the year.
The climax comes early on with a bike getting stolen; this cascades a series of events that bring all the main characters together. The probing question that Jensen aptly throws in early into our mind is whether everything that happens by chance or accidents could be deterministic. Then, the narrative takes us into rural Danish society, troubling family relations turned upside down by a tragedy and underworld of Denmark in which gangs go free and unpunished. In portraying this setting, Jansen uses many elements of conventional cinema. The dialogues are superb and rough. The characters are well constructed from their physics to their roles and dynamics in the whole ensemble. Music is not overdone and carries the melancholic and tragic nature of the story and possibly its extension as what it means to wake up every day and not be drowned by the randomness of events. Further, cinematography supports the alienation and lost lives of characters. The barn scenes and use of wide-angle shots enrich the aesthetics and these themes. Last but not least, Jensen understands the intertwining of our existence’s tragic and comic nature, and this aspect is visible in numerous scenes with good doses of humour.
Dissecting the layers that Riders of Justice touches is inclusively challenging. This task could make us critique the film’s message as well. The sense of justice and restoring it permeates the story from the beginning. It drives the action of all characters, even Kurt, who is a gang leader. Nevertheless, like many classic films and stories, one can ask, it comes at what costs? The sense of avenging that makes Markus kill as he does ants and flies must send a shockwave to our post-modern world plagued by an unforeseen pandemic. He discovered the power of family and relationship too late, after an hour of cinematic visual carnage. His nihilism subsided by then but most likely not gone. Markus’s ethics are beyond worshiping any angel/God and sticking to any religion. He calls them fantasy and useless, but when it comes to realizing the ultimate question of why we do things we do and why we live for, he becomes numb and succumbs to the reality of the unbound and profound question of our livelihood. Neither for him and any of us, church, grand creator, or human agency could be a settling solution. Jensen explained, “The core of the story is pretty dark and serious. The underlying theme is quite monumental. The meaning of life.”
The other subtext to Riders of Justice is the absence of faith in societies and their institutions. Lennart goes to the police station to testify and present his theory of events; he is understandably ignored, and consequently, he decides to bypass them. Emmenthaler and Otto could hack any of the Danish databases without any repercussion. Markus can kill based on personal ethics disregarding any evidence and rules established. The role of technology as a force to correct mistakes is highlighted too. Facial recognition and hacking both create unintended consequences leading to the massacre and loss of many lives, including innocent gang clubs. In a sense, Jansen’s script, camera, and characters ridicule and question the overreliance on data, numbers, and technology ascendency. In this context, it makes sense why Markus drives away from human connection, kills aimlessly, and lives in a fantasy world before getting struck by what his daughter, boyfriend, and people around him attempted to awaken.
Riders of Justice has a rather happy ending, but this should not be a comfort pill for the unsettling messages that it engages and leaves us as critical spectators. It can be called a drama or thriller with a heavy philosophical undertone. It raises many questions: Is there any meaning or ways to create meaning in a rather absurd world of random events? Can we count backward from 500 and go to sleep, forgetting our metaphysical and existential uncertainties? Can our loved ones (Mathilde) give us a glimmering hope to save us from the abyss of nihilism? Can we live our lives playing chess with the events around us locally and globally? In short, Jensen’s portrayal and cinematic conception take us to think deeper and conceptualize the cinema of empathy. This cinema promotes genuine relationships across all levels of human lives/existence despite pitfalls of violence, loss of loved ones, and tendencies to dominate others. For Jensen, the Christmas ending scene signalled restoration of justice and stability at some levels, but he overrode it with an absurdist biking scene, leaving tormented existential questions wide open.
Grade: B+