Stolen Identity: Ole Bornedal’s “Just Another Love Story” by Jeff Reichert (January 8, 2009)
A scene from Ole Bornedal's "Just Another Love Story." Image courtesy of Thura Film.
[An indieWIRE review from Reverse Shot.] If you’re about to see a movie whose title is prefixed with the generic marker “Just Another,” odds are it won’t be “just another” anything except a strenuous exercise in subverting the tropes of said genre. This titular quirk may be just a function of rough translation, but Danish filmmaker Ole Bornedal (director of “Nightwatch”—both the original and U.S. remake) lives up to his English title with “Just Another Love Story,” a coolly modulated mistaken-identity amour fou bruised and bloodied all over by healthy run-ins with familiar noir and thriller additives. The film’s opening jabs—beginning-at-the-ending voiceover, quick elliptical edit work, a series of punctuating title cards introducing the trio of love stories we’re about to witness—portend the kind of chillier form-conscious European take on Tarantino genre-revisionism we’ve come to expect from the likes of Tom Tykwer or Nicolas Winding Refn. “Just Another Love Story,” which embraces the classicist underpinnings continental filmmakers often bring to bear in these situations (see: baroque camera angles, painterly compositions, classical music sprinkled liberally, an air of the downbeat), is generally competent enough to pass muster, and even though Bornedal doesn’t reach the lurid heights of his American brethren, this isn’t the soppy weak-kneed existentialism of Dominic Moll either. Our hero for this outing is of the familiarly schlubby variety: Jonas (Anders Bertelsen), a married father of two who dreams of life beyond his grey box of a new Copenhagen apartment and harbors artistic ambitions that aren’t fully satisfied by the photographs he takes as a crime-scene investigator. A freak roadway accident throws him into the orbit of mysterious brunette Julia, set up for us via voiceover as a classic femme fatale—she’s headed away from somewhere, and in a hurry. Wracked with guilt at the damage caused by his jalopy’s breakdown, Jonas visits the comatose girl in the hospital and finds himself mistaken for her new boyfriend, Sebastian, by her anxious family. Uneasy (aren’t they always?) at first about the masquerade, Jonas quickly slips into the role with a creepy relish.
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