IFFR 2021 - Riders of Justice
IFFR
Man with the Midas touch, Mads Mikkelsen, just can’t help himself. After his barnstorming success in Druk, the bar was set inevitably high for Riders of Justice. Unfair as that may be, the tuned-in, wry sparks of director, Anders Thomas Jensen’s work would be no match for the finest film of the preceding year. Benefitting from their frequent collaborations with one another, Riders of Justice shines through as an inevitably engaging partnership, one that attempts to have its cake and eat it as it dissects the grief that comes from comedy, and the laughter needed to push through the darker times ahead.
As shattering military service may be to the nuclear family dynamic, Riders of Justice shows Markus (Mikkelsen) cling to the waning days of his tenure overseas. He is unable to bridge the gap between his time as a soldier and the strained love his family have for him. An early shock puts those plans out to pasture, and Markus returns home to the fractured family he left behind. What follows is an engrossing collection of grief-stricken moments, providing the cover necessary to bring about a story of conspiracy and assassination, something far greater or wilder than the film should be able to manage. While it eases into the sorrow with impressive, reflective moments, the underlying story of amateur detective work throws a spanner in the works.
Dark moments of comedy are layered over the foundation with mixed results. Although it may be unavoidable for jumbled outcomes to present themselves when tragedy is concerned, Riders of Justice does well to disguise these moments as more than light flutters of respite. Pacing is crucial here, Jensen’s script often lines up the horrors of ingrained violence and its effect on the emotional state of the leading man with a scene before it that brings out a bit of dark, yet frivolous entertainment. Much of the humour is left to the supporting characters, and even when Nikolaj Lie Kaas is enveloped in uncovering the subterfuge, he merely feeds the important details to Mikkelsen, who must feel a tad sore after Polar failed to give him the action-man material he’d been crying for.
Riders of Justice grapples its themes well though, with strong performances from those involved with a tale of civilian justice and a tongue-in-cheek style. It shouldn’t gel well, and at times it doesn’t, but when the boundaries are crossed, there is a sweet spot of magnificence that blends the rapid-fire comedy with the deep-rooted themes. An effective approach to the unlikely friends that appear through happenstance horrors, and the healing they can provide. Crazed, played-up drama which excels at baiting a few chuckles blends almost seamlessly at times with the messages of emotional wellbeing and the inevitable acceptance of grief.
Jensen has a strong piece of film here, musing greatly on the emotional traumas of military service and the guilt that comes from failing to capitulate a response to unmitigated love. It is soon pushed to the wayside, detailing a strong series of thriller-like elements and manic humour. Riders of Justice is a bit too excited by its own merits, losing its way from time to time. But even when it loses itself to the many avenues of comedy, it marches right back to the centre of its story. An expectedly strong combination of Jensen and Mikkelsen, Riders of Justice combines themes and performances that grapple with grief exceptionally well, yet don’t get to the core of it all, knocked back further and further by the ever-changing narrative style. The conspiratorial, underlying story is a strong one, and it provides reason to the verses of the shattered equilibrium which Mikkelsen and Andrea Heick Gadeberg must piece back together.