[WARNING: Some spoilers ahead]
Suicide is a serious subject and any attempt at showing it in a humorous light runs the risk of trivializing what amounts to a major public health problem. "Wilbur Wants to Kill Himself," set in gloomy Glasgow, a city with a collective depression syndrome to begin with, polarizes audiences into "It's great" and "It's awful" groupings. Director Lone Scherfig handles both the city and the characters with a light hand. Moods are created by settings that reflect the unfolding drama.
Wilbur (Jamie Sives) and brother Harbour (Adrian Rawlins) inherited a small, dusty bookshop - shelves groaning with misplaced volumes - from their just deceased father. Wilbur has a record of self-destructive acts, some silly and others very dangerous. He's in a therapy group run by a German psychologist, Horst (Mads Mikkelseen), and a ditzy nurse who thinks husband hunting amongst the suicidal is a good option. Horst seems more enervated and down than his patients with whom he has a decidedly detached relationship.
A nurse's aide, Alice (Shirley Anderson), supplements her inadequate income by bringing books she "finds" at the hospital to the brothers' book store for a few quid. A single mom, she and her pre-teen daughter, Mary (Lisa McKinlay) share a warm relationship. Chronic lateness brings the Scots equivalent of a pink slip and Alice ends up working at the bookstore after she quickly falls in love with Harbour. Their wedding takes places in a Chinese restaurant featuring an owner whose Highland brogue is thicker than congee.
Alice agrees, indeeds almost insists, that Wilbur live with them in the cramped flat behind the store. His self-absorbed attempts at suicide continue until he seems to rebound by falling in love with his sister-in-law who returns the affection.
Oh boy, a not atypical film menage a trois with the good guy husband unaware that he's in a roiling threesome. But there's a twist. A sudden collapse in a supermarket leads to a diagnosis of pancreatic cancer for Harbour spelling out a quick and deadly fate that he attempts to keep secret.
Harbour's concealment of his illness is futile and wrong but his deepening relationship with Horst becomes the foundation for the psychologist's belated but imperative need to reconnect with the reasons that brought him into clinical therapy. And we also learn that grand Kentucky bourbon is available to Glaswegians.
What follows is the relationship between four people with Mary, the child, taking on an increasingly important albeit quiet role. The store facing financial ruin, she offers her own money (apparently a trust fund from somewhere) to float the emporium.
This is a serious film about complex relationships, told non-judgmentally (which may be what has bothered some who reviewed the movie on IMDb). An excellent cast turns in credible and moving performances. Alice isn't very pretty-she certainly isn't glamorous. But she has a sensuous love of life and a deep caring for her child., Harbour loves his brother and his new wife and his almost instant bonding with Mary is believable, the realization of a long, missing need. Mary is bright, curious and vulnerable. She's dependent on the adults and is shielded from their various dilemmas and delinquencies. And Wilbur really doesn't want to die-anyone intent on suicide succeeds. He wants a life with a rewarding love. Who doesn't?
Set in Scotland, there are quite a few Scandanavians associated with the film. An alert reader of end titles will note that director Lars von Trier ("Breaking the Waves," "Dancer in the Dark" and, now, "Dogville") was a "script consultant," whatever that means.
One problem: it's time that makers of films set in working class Scots cities bite the bullet and provide subtitles. :)
9/10
Suicide is a serious subject and any attempt at showing it in a humorous light runs the risk of trivializing what amounts to a major public health problem. "Wilbur Wants to Kill Himself," set in gloomy Glasgow, a city with a collective depression syndrome to begin with, polarizes audiences into "It's great" and "It's awful" groupings. Director Lone Scherfig handles both the city and the characters with a light hand. Moods are created by settings that reflect the unfolding drama.
Wilbur (Jamie Sives) and brother Harbour (Adrian Rawlins) inherited a small, dusty bookshop - shelves groaning with misplaced volumes - from their just deceased father. Wilbur has a record of self-destructive acts, some silly and others very dangerous. He's in a therapy group run by a German psychologist, Horst (Mads Mikkelseen), and a ditzy nurse who thinks husband hunting amongst the suicidal is a good option. Horst seems more enervated and down than his patients with whom he has a decidedly detached relationship.
A nurse's aide, Alice (Shirley Anderson), supplements her inadequate income by bringing books she "finds" at the hospital to the brothers' book store for a few quid. A single mom, she and her pre-teen daughter, Mary (Lisa McKinlay) share a warm relationship. Chronic lateness brings the Scots equivalent of a pink slip and Alice ends up working at the bookstore after she quickly falls in love with Harbour. Their wedding takes places in a Chinese restaurant featuring an owner whose Highland brogue is thicker than congee.
Alice agrees, indeeds almost insists, that Wilbur live with them in the cramped flat behind the store. His self-absorbed attempts at suicide continue until he seems to rebound by falling in love with his sister-in-law who returns the affection.
Oh boy, a not atypical film menage a trois with the good guy husband unaware that he's in a roiling threesome. But there's a twist. A sudden collapse in a supermarket leads to a diagnosis of pancreatic cancer for Harbour spelling out a quick and deadly fate that he attempts to keep secret.
Harbour's concealment of his illness is futile and wrong but his deepening relationship with Horst becomes the foundation for the psychologist's belated but imperative need to reconnect with the reasons that brought him into clinical therapy. And we also learn that grand Kentucky bourbon is available to Glaswegians.
What follows is the relationship between four people with Mary, the child, taking on an increasingly important albeit quiet role. The store facing financial ruin, she offers her own money (apparently a trust fund from somewhere) to float the emporium.
This is a serious film about complex relationships, told non-judgmentally (which may be what has bothered some who reviewed the movie on IMDb). An excellent cast turns in credible and moving performances. Alice isn't very pretty-she certainly isn't glamorous. But she has a sensuous love of life and a deep caring for her child., Harbour loves his brother and his new wife and his almost instant bonding with Mary is believable, the realization of a long, missing need. Mary is bright, curious and vulnerable. She's dependent on the adults and is shielded from their various dilemmas and delinquencies. And Wilbur really doesn't want to die-anyone intent on suicide succeeds. He wants a life with a rewarding love. Who doesn't?
Set in Scotland, there are quite a few Scandanavians associated with the film. An alert reader of end titles will note that director Lars von Trier ("Breaking the Waves," "Dancer in the Dark" and, now, "Dogville") was a "script consultant," whatever that means.
One problem: it's time that makers of films set in working class Scots cities bite the bullet and provide subtitles. :)
9/10