A REVIEW OF THE FILM GUTER JUNGE (2008)

Sam Hall   6 December 2021

Was Sven’s incident with the ten-year-old an incongruity or the end result of the physical and mental pummeling he’d endured – mainly at the hands of a father who’d shown no interest in his son until charged with the mission of extirpating his sexuality and capacity to love. The fact that the father is not a bad man, develops a genuine concern for his son, is only evidence of this film’s determination to leave no screw unturned.

In such a grim film, the brief, albeit quickly-snuffed, relationship between Sven and Patrick is the most shocking incongruity – a genuine moment of brightness amid the relentless gloom. But Patrick’s winning, infectious smile cannot, in this world, catch on, and is duly cured.

Sven was an averagely mixed up seventeen-year-old youth, fatherless and a bit adrift. His penchant for shaving his body hair showed his trepidation at approaching manhood. To have taken on a senior role in a romantic relationship with the rather love-struck Patrick seemed set to offer both boys a fair helping of what they clearly needed.

So it was incredibly sad, late in the film, to see Sven’s disturbed attempt to recreate the bright Patrick-moment with an unknown, uncomprehending child. By hook or by crook we Frankensteinian brutes will create the monsters we so inexplicably crave.

It’s notable how repulsive the adult world is in this film. Disengaged for the most part, they hover oppressively and voyeuristically over Sven’s life, chortling over his masturbation and bathroom habits. All good fun, apparently, as long as the young man remains safely tucked away in his claustrophobic little room. Call us when you’ve met a nice girl.

These “grown-ups” are nothing but a bunch of insecure, past-it, hook-up loafers, still boozily trying to recapture the romantic thrills which properly belong to youth. Not only do they refuse to grow up, they sure as hell aren’t going to let any young whelps get the jump on them.

The final scene is the perfect apotheosis of despair this film courts from the start. A maximum security lockdown, father staring blankly into dead air, Sven lost, dislocated, his physical location no longer traceable or relevant. The memory of him, already fading, is superimposed on our collective gargantuan life-sentence of cold state security – a fitting endpoint and inevitable destination of today’s whole damn shooting match.