Halfdan Ullmann Tondel’s feature debut seems to be in an identity crisis of sorts. So much so that even after a second watch, I’m inclined to stick by my first impression and say that Armand wants to be too many things at once. Luckily, the same ambition translates much better in the parts where the film is an absolute work of art. But with the likes of The Teacher’s Lounge getting it so right, Armand doesn’t really have an excuse for only tapping the surface of its emotional themes without ever taking a deep dive.
Spoiler Alert
What happens in the film?
Conventional realism doesn’t quite line up with the tone Armand is trying to set. And that’s why a school which is supposedly celebrating the end-of-term looks so deserted. The fact that Elisabeth rubs the lipstick off of herself and takes off her blingy hoops is a sign that the school is a place where she will be judged. Once we’re in the school, and quick introductions to the key players of this drama get the ball rolling, it’s obvious that the school is a metaphor for society itself. What’s all this hush hush preparation the principal, school counselor, and a junior teacher seem to be engrossed in? Well, Jerle, Ajsa, and a very jittery Sunna are trying to get ahead of this very serious allegation a 6-year-old has brought against his peer of the same age. The accused, Armand, is son to Elisabeth, someone we hear is a pretty successful actress who’s endured some trauma recently. Jerle’s denial about how serious the situation is makes him push a clearly under-prepared Sunna into the eye of the storm. But Elisabeth and Sunna aren’t the only ones there. Pretty soon after Elisabeth shows up, we meet the parents of the kid who’s allegedly been put through some terribly traumatic sexual abuse. It’s understandable that Sarah and Anders are relieved that their son, Jon, isn’t present at this meeting. But Armand not being able to speak for himself does put them at an unfair advantage. Something Elisabeth is brave enough to address. The thing is, while no one can say with certainty that the accusations are unfounded, they mostly sound absolutely bonkers when a 6-year-old is accused of such things. Elisabeth isn’t blind to the fact that there’s a lot of pre-existing judgment that she’s walked into, the kind of judgment that her little boy might be falling victim to. And then there’s the matter of all the indelible history between Elisabeth, Sarah, and Anders, the heat of which permeates the room as soon as they’re all together.
Why does everyone seem to be against Elisabeth?
It doesn’t take long for Elisabeth to pick up on the air of animosity. But I also wouldn’t claim that she had no idea what she was walking into. They are, or more accurately were, all very close. Sarah is Elisabeth’s sister-in-law. And since Sarah’s let Jon spend so much time at her place, the accusations catch her off guard. Sarah doesn’t seem to want to stop stacking up the accusations against Elisabeth, things that even make Anders fumble. Even Sunna isn’t blind to the fact that Sarah is adding new information to the pile just out of spite. As a reasonable person, she can’t point fingers or pick a side in a matter of such grave concern. But her empathy gives her the kind of clarity that the likes of Jerle and Ajsa severely lack. But Sunna’s hands are tied by the insignificance of her official position in the school. And because Jerle is hardly immune to Sarah’s desperation to get Elisabeth to accept the blame, he has to sit in. As mere spectators, our understanding of the emotional depths of this circumstance can only come through a deeper look at how we’re finding out what we’re finding out. It isn’t sympathy that makes Sarah bring up her dead brother, Thomas, who was also Elisabeth’s husband. Given that is the recent tragedy that Jerle had mentioned, wouldn’t a good person see it as a reason to cut Elisabeth some slack? But that’s not what Sarah, and sometimes even Anders are after. They keep bringing up Elisabeth’s recent widowhood and the fact that her career isn’t going too well as ways to judge her even further. And then there’s the very palpable history that the school itself was a witness too. Since Sarah and Thomas were students here, Jerle has practically seen them grow up. He’s absolutely affectionate when it comes to their family, but seeing Sarah give him a push to see the whole thing with biased eyes does make me wonder two things. First, I think Elisabeth was a student here too, someone who didn’t have a very good reputation. That might be what Sarah’s banking on when she urges Jerle to remember her history. And you know Jerle. He’s the absolute picture of a clueless yet well-meaning parental figure, the kind whose cruelty gets justified by their supposedly good intentions. That’s a whole theme that Armand explores through some wild metaphors that puts a damper on the human drama. The broken fire alarm that keeps going off and triggers a futile panic might be the film’s way of outlining how people postpone taking care of potentially dangerous instincts. The same is metaphorized by Ajsa’s nosebleeds and how lightly she takes them. And Jerle’s instinct to see that as an inconvenience he needs to apologize for shows just how much is expected of people in terms of social niceties. And yet the one who’s actually not being very nice gets all the freedom to inflict pain in the wake of her own pain. As someone who’s not quite healed from the pain of her brother’s death, Sarah’s instinct is to blame Elisabeth for it. It’s by punishing and hurting Elisabeth that Sarah wants to lick a wound that Elisabeth didn’t cause. What’s rather strangely revealed is the dynamic between Elisabeth and Anders. When alone, he creeps up close to her as though he doesn’t have her consent to do so. And when we do see that Elisabeth and Anders share the kind of closeness that’s shattered Sarah, it feels weird to remember the way Anders was acting. So if I’m to see that as something meaningful, I’d go with the theory that it’s about what Anders’ intentions really are. His feelings for Elisabeth are creepy, and that still stands true even if she consents to the closeness.
So how do they deal with it all?
You know how people tend to force those around them into aligning with their own perspective? Abusers actually end up believing that they can turn any feeling they have into an active action. They’re bigger, and therefore more important than everyone else. And this narcissism is so deeply embedded in them that they turn a deaf ear to how ridiculous their claims sound. Elisabeth’s lifestyle doesn’t align with society’s dictates. And since that puts her at odds with most people, even Jerle and Ajsa aren’t above jumping to conclusions about her. Elisabeth’s seemingly never-ending fit of laughter is a commentary on just how farcical the school’s approach to this whole deal is. They think they can fix something they don’t even understand with the most general rules that aren’t even customized to the actual needs. And that sort of bullheadedness is what drives Ajsa and Jerle’s snarky remarks about how Armand has been unruly otherwise. Just like his mother, Armand is unfairly judged on the basis of things that have nothing to do with the current crisis. It’s an interesting question that Armand poses as it brings up the differences in the characters’ behaviors. Thomas used to abuse Elisabeth. And yet everyone except Sunna is more inclined to believe that Elisabeth made it up. It’s obviously the kind of cruelty that Sarah wishes to fuel by claiming that Elisabeth cries to get attention. And what’s Elisabeth to do? Her sudden plunge into the surreal and her dance with the janitor might be a glimpse into who she used to be and still is. And if the disapproval on Jerle’s face is any sign, this might be one of the many things that got her in trouble with people. The same kind of spirited existence is also held against Armand. He’s vocal and loud. And therefore he is a bigger threat to society than such blatant judgment from supposed adults. Elisabeth probably stays silent as the voices of the people around her are alarmed by her very identity. But when her son’s well-being is on the line, she speaks up for him. The only comfort that comes Elisabeth’s way is when Sunna tells her that she believes her. But she’s already made a big mistake. Frustrated with the way the whole thing was playing out, Sunna confided in one of her colleagues, Faizal. And Faizal has obviously gone ahead and been very loose with this secret in front of the other parents. Without more context, the parents’ first instinct is supposed to be concern for their own kids. Nothing comes before that. But what’s supposed to come after that is a rational examination of the information. How likely is it for a 6-year-old to do something like this? But the question that would always take precedence is if they’d let their kids play with Armand again. That’s the inevitable nature of an allegation that goes public. People can’t be blamed for being conscious about their personal well being. That amount of selfishness can’t really be helped. And that practically defines the state Elisabeth is in. She is helpless against something she is not quite sure about.
What happens to Elisabeth and Armand?
By the time the third act hits, we’ve achieved clarity about what Sarah’s trying to pull. She holds a grudge against her brother’s widow. And seeing how she’s practically out for blood, I think Sarah might even be the kind of person who’d wish death on Elisabeth if it spared her brother’s life. She’s never believed that her brother was physically abusive to his wife. She wants Elisabeth to feel the pain she feels. And to that end, she’s also told Jerle that Elisabeth nagged Thomas into killing himself. Thomas must’ve been an obedient kid. And Jerle’s association with Thomas as a teacher has convinced him that he could do no wrong. However many times Jerle might claim that he’s not here to investigate, his grief and affection for Thomas has made him vilify Elisabeth in their kangaroo court. Sunna’s protest drowns under the noise of all the judgment when Jerle behaves as though he knew Thomas just as well, if not better than the person he was married to and had a baby with. He pretends as if he knows more about the right way to raise Armand than the woman who’s been a good mom to him while dealing with her battlefield of a life. But for the sake of fairness, I don’t think Elisabeth is entirely flawless. But then again, who is? If there’s anything that she can be criticized for, it’s the way she lets her overwhelming emotions out in front of Armand. He might not be as guarded against complicated emotions as a child his age should be, but other than that, Elisabeth seems to have done a solid job with him. Her personal turmoil as she wonders if Armand could’ve actually done it must be excruciating for her, but it’s also a sign that she introspects and doesn’t ignore the issues as a mother. And that’s why it puzzles her when Jerle mentions involving the child welfare services. As someone who doesn’t believe that Thomas was an abuser, Jerle is hell bent on convincing Elisabeth that Thomas’ death was traumatic to them. This is what Sarah must’ve wanted in the first place. She wanted Elisabeth to lose someone who means the world to her, like she’d lost her brother.
Even though we’ve been guessing it all this while, we don’t really get much clarity about the truth before Sarah and Anders sneak into the AV room. As someone who has to accept that her husband has a romantic relationship with her sister in law, Sarah’s pain is more than justified. But it’s what she does with all this pain that defines her as a person. When she talks to Anders about Elisabeth, it’s as though she’s consciously in denial about the affair. And that paints the picture of marriage where they’re both allowed to lie to each other’s face without being called out on it. It’s not that Anders doesn’t ask questions. Sarah has lied about the old bruises on Jon’s body and blamed them on Armand. But it’s the mere fact that Sarah doesn’t feel the need to even lie and is given the choice not to answer that makes their marriage look like a place where toxicity and lies thrive unchecked. It’s only when Sarah teases Anders that he holds her accountable for her lies. It’s likely that Sarah abuses Jon. And as someone who’s so far ignored that problem, Anders is not the best dad either. But lucky for everyone, he comes to his senses when the truth gets hard to deny. Sarah is an abuser who’s avenging the death of another abuser. And Anders doesn’t wish to lie anymore. It’s highly likely that Armand did something he shouldn’t have done, but Sarah inflated Jon’s truth and weaponized it against Elisabeth.
By the time the fire alarm is fixed, it feels almost impossible that it will be called into action anytime soon. Life takes its sweet time getting people comfortable and making them feel safe. And that’s when the alarm rings again, justifying the paranoia. On her way out of the building, Elisabeth is caught by this very strange, very touchy group of people. As they proceed to grope her all over, her confusion turns into happiness, then fear, and ultimately ends with her breaking out of the grasp. While I totally believe this scene is pretty open to interpretation, I’ve got one of my own. I think the whole unnerving scenario is a metaphor for how the touch of love can turn into a touch of abuse. The connections you once cherished can potentially turn into traps that you must escape if you want to save yourself. Life gave Elisabeth another chance when Thomas died, the circumstances of this death notwithstanding. In her attempt to nab that from her, Sarah has only ruined her own happiness.
In Armand’s ending, Elisabeth is all alone under the shed. The crowd would rather drench than share a cover with someone the world’s shunned. It’s only when Anders does the right thing and tells the truth to Jerle that luck actually shows some kindness to Elisabeth. And soon enough, everyone’s on her side, and it’s Sarah throwing a fit in the rain-flooded ground. A vile combination of a personal grievance and societal judgment was just about to snatch the only morsel of hope from a woman who’s been through more than enough. All it took was one selfless action for her to be saved. It wasn’t Sunna’s job to apologise on behalf of the school. Hell, she was the only one who treated Elisabeth with respect. But accepting the truth one time hasn’t quite changed the school’s general sense of bloated pride. They’re too good to apologize when they’ve done something very wrong. What Elisabeth says to Sunna before leaving vocalizes what Armand has been trying to say all along. Everyone has flaws, and you’ll especially notice them when you’re looking for them. People need to be seen and understood just the right amount in order to thrive.
In Armand’s closing scene, seeing Elisabeth cuddle up to Armand is a reassurance that she’s handled things well. She could’ve done without the challenges that the likes of Sarah dismiss in a second. But as far as healing goes, Elisabeth and Armand are on the right track.
