U – JULY 22: Frustrating Portrayal Of A Harrowing Terrorist Atrocity

In 2006, to mark the fifth anniversary of 9/11, Hollywood produced two starkly different approaches to documenting the horror onscreen; the mainstream friendly World Trade Centre (directed by Oliver Stone), and the comparatively documentary inflicted United 93, from director Paul Greengrass. By some strange coincidence, Greengrass is now preparing for the release of another film about a harrowing terrorist atrocity, just as a separate film is garnering attention for taking on the very same subject.

This isn’t a review of Greengrass‘ 22 July, however, but it’s hard to imagine the shaky cam auteur wouldn’t be somewhat envious of the arthouse effort that’s beat him to the punch. He’s a filmmaker committed to capturing realism within narrative film, so how could he not be envious of a re-enacted true story filmed in one take, playing out in real time?

A Unique Style Choice – that detracts from the film’s power

U – July 22, the latest effort from middlebrow director Erik Poppe, sees him abandon his usual pedestrian style in favour of something more ambitiously experimental than his prior work, while still pitched directly at a mainstream becoming horrifyingly normalised to far right ideology. The film relies on melodramatic narrative beats in an unashamedly populist (Poppe-ulist?) manner, without ever coming across as an exploitative exercise. The director has clearly taken time and effort to make sure he’s both respectful to the survivors, and careful in how he portrays the excessive violence, so it doesn’t risk further warping minds attuned to the terrorist’s extremist ideology.

The problem with U – July 22 isn’t that it becomes akin to exploitation, as it remains carefully handled even in its most harrowing moments. Instead, the problem is the paradoxical clash of filming in a one-take, realist style, while keeping the viewer at arm’s length from the truth of the atrocity; all the characters onscreen are fictional out of respect for the real life victims, and it’s hard not to view the supposed realism as anything other than artificial upon learning this. The gimmick winds up becoming an unnecessary barrier, rather than a tool to heighten audience anxiety – aiming for a realistic view of events, yet used solely to follow around characters who we know are mere dramatic constructs.

​Andrea Berntzen stars as Kaja, one of the many campers at a leftist youth camp being held on the Norwegian island of Utøya. As news spreads round the camp of a bomb attack outside Oslo’s government buildings, fear begins to spread – but this slowly calms down, until suddenly, gunshots are heard firing in the distance and everybody is hiding in fear for their lives. Nobody can see the attacker, with the only observance being that he was wearing a police uniform; U – July 22 doesn’t contextualise further than this, instead throwing you into the chaos for 71-minutes, the same duration as the terrorist’s shooting spree on the island.

The film does get a lot of things right, especially in its approach of how to handle onscreen terrorism. Taking a leaf from Dunkirk‘s book, we never actually see the terrorist carrying out his actions (with the exception of a two second shot, firmly in the distance), and he is merely named as an extremist or an attacker. In not naming him, he is being robbed of any future notoriety for generations previously unfamiliar with his actions – something that Greengrass‘ film doesn’t have in its favour, as it documents his subsequent trial. Out of respect for the victims and survivors of the Utøya attack, his name will not be mentioned in this review either. Their stories need to live on, but his warped view of events needs to be banished to the dustbin of history.

The Limitations of a one-take movie laid bare

However, it’s in this very deliberate technique that the film struggles to convey the sheer weight of the atrocity, as all casualties occur offscreen – with only ricocheting gunshots in the background giving any context to the full extent of the brutality. Again, this is likely a result of using the supposedly realist one-take technique. Trying to show the 71-minute massacre in real time means the production can’t afford to waste resources on depicting bloody casualties, leaving Poppe to bend over backwards in his attempt to keep the camera squarely fixated on the lead character, and not the hellscape around her.

Similarly, there are long, seemingly improvised sequences of characters hiding, either whispering out of fear or conjuring up inane conversations about kebabs in order to retain a degree of normalcy. At first, this proves effective, with an extensive sequence hiding in the forest, characters tearfully whispering down the phone for news as the killer stalks nearby. But as the film continues, it becomes apparent that these moments are only utilised as the practical effects for the next scene are still being developed, and each moment needs to be elongated until they’re ready. Instead of further immersing me into the realism, my awareness of the behind the scenes action hindered me from seeing anything onscreen as more than a mere construct – a troubling problem for a film depicting one of the worst atrocities in 21st Century European history to have.

You could say that I’m missing the point, and that we’re clearly supposed to be focused on the human cost of the attack. Yet, the film is populated by artificial composite characters instead of portrayals of the survivors, with Andrea Berntzen’s Kaja even styled to look somewhat like Katniss Everdeen, the protagonist from The Hunger Games. Its lapses into melodrama in its comparatively quiet character moments never ring true, but wouldn’t feel particularly jarring if it wasn’t for the inexplicable one take approach Poppe has chosen to tackle this material with.

And again, I come back to the fact that I feel somewhat uneasy with my own judgement, considering my concerns with the film’s effectiveness are squarely a byproduct of its willingness to both innovate, and avoid glorifying the atrocity with a blunter portrayal. It should be praised for not falling into exploitative territory, and even managing to capture vivid cinematic moments while maintaining its central stylistic conceit. One moment, where an insect is seen crawling on Kaja’s arm, recalls The Thin Red Line in its juxtaposition of nature maintaining a peaceful indifference while human horrors unfold alongside it. It’s even more powerful considering that this image was captured with filming methods boldly opposite to Malick’s perfectionism.

U – July 22: Conclusion

Poppe has strayed firmly out of his filmmaking comfort zone, and U – July 22 is a commendable effort for that alone. For as long as there are tragedies, there will be cinematic retellings of those stories – and he deserves credit for straying from exploitative paths where it could be so easy to lapse into bad judgement. But at the same time, I can’t help but feel this would have been even more effective divorced from its central gimmick, which creates an unnecessary barrier instead of tightening its emotional pull on the audience.

It’s to be seen whether or not this will be more effective than Greengrass‘ July 22, but even as its conceit falters in execution, it will likely remain the bolder, more ambitious film of the two. For all its faults, its attempt to throw the viewer into an unimaginable situation instead of passively retelling it is worth celebrating, even if it doesn’t fully achieve its immersive aim.

U – July 22 is released in the UK on October 26. All international release dates are here.