Many other reviewers on this list have split into two camps: Those that find this film an exploitative waste of time. And those who find it a masterpiece of art cinema. The truth probably lies in-between. This is a beautifully filmed portrait of the seedy low-life of a Danish mobster family in a Turkish tourist town, as seen through the eyes of Sascha, the king pin's blond arm candy and sometimes courier. In the style of Refn's Pusher II, also about low-life gangsters from the island Amager south of Copenhagen, their lifestyle is portrayed in its unadorned proletarian dullness. No witty one-liners or criminal honour here, just tedious boozing, brawling, and boasting. Not to mention awful fashion taste. But unlike Refn's preference for grainy tinted images through shaky hand-held cameras, Eklöf lets us witness this depravity in splendid technocolor and careful lingering shots.
The sophistication of the script lies in the way it plays with our feelings for Sascha. At first she seems a naïve victim in deep waters. She is left to wait for her contact at an unbearable family hotel, and is punished disproportionally for spending a tiny amount of money without prior permission. Clearly, she is at the very bottom of the family hierarchy. But soon we learn that, even if she often feels above the unsophisticated mores of her fellows, she is very much an integral part of the family. The infamous explicit rape scene is hardly very shocking to anyone accustomed to recent Danish film making. To those largely indifferent to the on-screen display of genitalia or sex, it is not anywhere as shocking in context, as is that infamously grueling rape scene from Irreversible. At this time in the plot Sacha has already been drug raped at least once within a few days and has simply accepted it as normal fare. And obviously she submits to her rapist without much quarrel or protest, as if this is routine to her. In some scenes, it seems she even enjoys being abused by her sugar daddy. What is shocking, if anything, is the implied normalcy of this. Sascha, like her fellow minions, willingly subject to the king pin's strategies of domination. In turn he lavishes them with ridiculous gifts, in turn he rapes them or savagely beats them up, while the family kids watch tv shows in the adjacent room. Always he expects their compliance and gratitude. This is simply regular crime family life. As a side character finally calls Sascha out on her complicity, she responds by demonstrating her personal callousness and temper. Life goes on, as the family helps clean up the mess. What remains disturbing as the end credit rolls, are the mixed emotions the viewer is left with.
Were we tricked into caring for a callous manipulative minion, simply because she is pretty and naïve? Or did we witness the ultimate perversion of a fragile young woman at the hands of an evil sadist? The film offers no definite answers. Herein lies its primary quality.
Review of Holiday
