EVIL (2003), dir. Mikael Hafstrom

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What is “pure evil?” According to this searing Swedish drama, it’s causing pain to others simply because one is bigger, or has the protection of the authorities. It’s bullying, and it’s even worse when the bully is reasonably intelligent. Stand up to this kind and they may leave you alone temporarily, but all the while, they’ll be plotting any manner of alternative ways to get at you.

At the beginning of “Evil,” public school thug Erik Ponti (Andreas Wilson) is accused of being exactly this sort of psychopath. He scraps with his classmates, has been suspected of stealing, and despite what glimmer of academic ability he has shown, there is little chance he’ll be admitted to college. What Erik’s critics don’t know is the physical abuse he’s endured at the hands of his stepfather; only Erik’s mother knows, and in desperation, she sends him off to a private boarding school called Stjarnsberg, pleading with him to save what’s left of his future.

From the outside, Stjarnsberg looks like any other preparatory institution for sons of the rich and prominent. Despite being 17, Erik is roomed with younger, fresher-faced students, and his roommate is Pierre (Henrik Lundstrom), an affable dork who brings him up to speed on how things are run. Here the upperclassmen police the lowerclassmen, punishing infractions such as public cursing with some physical reprimand – for example, one student gets struck over the head with a spoon. But it goes further: basically, the lowerclassmen have to do the upperclassmen’s bidding, and when Erik balks, he finds himself at odds with Silverhielm (Gustaf Starsgard), who proves one heck of a sadistic senior.

Pretty much the entire Stjarnsberg upper class sets out to make Erik submit. When he won’t clean a pile of their mud-encrusted shoes, they make him dig ditches in the yard and other forms of hard labor. As for the headmaster, he generally turns a blind eye to whatever the older students do to the younger. Worse, there is a boxing square where lowerclassmen can be challenged to fight, but it’s always two-to-one in favor of upper-classmen, meaning it’s really a place for bigger students to beat smaller, weaker boys into pulp. Erik would be the exception; however, he refuses to engage in fisticuffs out of his promise to his mother to stay out of trouble.

Viewers will figure out early that Erik gets off the sidelines (note the scene where he and Pierre bond over their mutual love of “Rebel Without a Cause,” and the latter says his favorite scene is when James Dean is standing over his best friend’s dead body). To be fair, “Evil” doesn’t telegraph itself quite so cleanly, and it’s pretty good until about halfway through, when a plotline involving Erik’s swimming ability – which gives the underclassmen their first opportunity to steal some glory from the uppers – gets abandoned in favor of escalating antics (although nothing quite tops the use of a bucket containing human waste during the film’s middle).

What lesson are we supposed to take away from all this? Authority figures with absolute power can corrupt absolutely, be they favored students or step-parents? That’s all well and good, but as far as I can tell, the movie never presents or proposes any solution to this problem (and “Evil” does seem to think it’s that). If Erik is to be our example, the only real hope appears to be enduring indefinitely or getting oneself a good attorney. True, he does get a love interest for distraction, but their relationship is strangely underdeveloped, although one scene which amounts to, “You appear to have hypothermia. Let’s have sex,” is pretty funny.

The movie does try to say something about how abuse can shape us, either as individuals or as a mass: Erik was a thug because his stepfather would verbally and physically hurt him; meanwhile, Pierre points out that when Silverhielm was an underclassman himself, he probably had to endure atrocities similar to what he dishes out now. When the movie does allow Silverhielm an explanation, he says Erik’s defiance in and of itself caused him a “living Hell.” This implies the cyclical nature of bullying at Stjarnsberg breeds peer pressure; poor Silverhielm must make his charges fall in line, or else.

However, the most telling scene about the effects of abuse might be when Erik gets one of his tormentors alone, acts like he’s going to kill them, and starts explaining how he will commit the murder and get away with it. It all sounds half-baked, but the victim breaks down and starts begging for their life, at which point Erik looks at them, genuinely half-surprised. “You really thought I was going to do it, didn’t you?” he says, and the answer is: Of course they did. When a person has spent so much time around human beings at their absolute worst, what else would they expect of anyone but the same?

Overall rating: ** (out of ****)