THE BOTHERSOME MAN (2006), dir. Jens Lien

In reviews, this film has been compared to a feature-length episode of “The Twilight Zone,” but having seen “The Bothersome Man,” I realize it’s a favorable comparison. The best science-fiction reflects real world concerns through fantasy scenarios, and in this deliberately-paced, Icelandic meander, the numbness of modern society is allegorized through a strange city that may be the after-life, and either a heaven or hell depending on one’s taste.

The film opens with its main character, Andreas (Trond Fausa Aurvaag), leaping into the path of an oncoming train. When next we see him, he is arriving via bus at a station house in what appears to be the outskirts somewhere, at which point he gets a lift to the aforementioned city, which looks at any other metropolis. Here he has a job and apartment waiting for him.

The work is relatively-unchallenging, and it isn’t long before Andreas starts staring out of windows, noticing strange things about the city, such as the lack of smells, and the fact there are never children around. He also finds that food doesn’t taste like anything, and no matter how much alcohol he imbibes, it never has any effect. One day, during a dinner party with friends, he meets a beautiful woman named Anne (Petronella Barker); they make love after a date, but the act seems rote and mechanical.

“It doesn’t always have to be good, but…” he hears another man complain one day. The stranger goes on about how much he misses hot chocolate, and it isn’t long before Andreas begins to miss it, too.

Earlier, I had described this film as taking place in a possible heaven or hell, a fact reinforced by how Andreas cannot do lasting harm to his body. He slices off a finger in a workplace machine, only to find his hand all better just a short time later. Later, he does worse, in a sequence involving subway trains that’s the most eye-opening thing in the movie, both for its unflinching goriness as well as its droll, black humor.

But notice that I spelled heaven and hell with lower-case “h’s.” Jens Lien’s film is entirely non-religious, and from an allegorical standpoint, the common man’s miraculous healing ability may just be screenwriter Per Schreiner’s way of illustrating how the average lifespan has been prolonged. Meanwhile, the inability to do self-harm also means suicide is impossible, which could reflect modern anxieties that the current miseries – icy cordiality in lieu of genuine feelings, rampant consumerism, failure of traditional means of self-medication for escape – will never end, just go on and on.

There is, however, another choice for living, which is to not conform, to actively seek out the sensations felt missing from existence. In the course of the film, that appears to mean reaching for something more idyllic, something consisting of more traditional values. Of course, when most of society is happy with the way things are, this kind of act has consequences, and it’s a shame Andreas couldn’t have fought for those simpler pleasures a little more vigorously.

Had that happened, he might have seemed like more of a tragic hero, rather than just a poor mope. In turn, “The Bothersome Man” might have left viewers feeling galvanized and angry. As it is, it’s a near-masterpiece of sustained tension, drab colors, and emotional remoteness.

Overall rating: ***1/2 (out of ****)