Swedish Films on Norwegian Rooftops

Up in the Clouds
Originally uploaded by joshlabove

Such a title already suggests the kind of culture-blur that happens when one leaves the comforts of one space and moves in to another altogether different one. The weather was decidedly cooler Saturday, a crisp, clear autumnal (or pre-autumnal, yes?) night that produced wispy clouds and a breathtaking sunset. While I've done my best to attempt to capture the beauty of sun falling in to the horizon line of the North Sea, you may just have to take my word for it. Standing on top of the Oprean--a building of glass and limestone that is part ballet hall, part opera house, 100% urban park--I looked out, to one side, on the capitalists transforming Oslo's modest skyline, while on the side, the chilly coastal waters still rippled from the passage of yet another cruise ship.

This morning, the Operaen had been taken over by the Norwegian Bokklubben--a book fair/sale of epic proportion. Now, as the sun was falling behind it's elusive angles, the roof played host to a film screening. In a literary twist, this film, Swedish as you've by now surmised, was based on book two in a three part series by Steig Larsson. Larsson achieved something of a cult popularity in Scandinavia when his trilogy hit bookshelves only after the writer himself had suddenly (and quite sadly) passed away. The ensuing year has been a chance to eulogize the man who became the voice of Northern Europe, whose commercial and critical success has been loud, proud, significant--but all sadly, long after his early demise. Few have taken up the practice of truly using the setting of chilly winters in Stockholm, or a dock in Oslo, with as much nuance and skill--in doing so, he earned the affection of plenty in these parts.

I was at the movie, oddly enough, with one guy I had met at cafe from Spain, and a girl who worked at said cafe, herself from Boise, Idaho. He was a graduate student in Salamanca; she was working through a visa program similar to one I had once used in the UK--learning Norwegian (she was already convincingly local with her six foot stature and blond hair). And together, we, a rather motley crew, enjoyed the cool air, the camaraderie, and a rarity in Norway: a freebie. The film, and, as it turns out, a bagful of hot muscat rolls (boller). We made no pretense about this night being fleeting and beautiful--no pretending to take down numbers and emails and promising to "facebook you later". It was organically derived connections between three people--in a moment, in a place--and when it was over, we'd all have a great night under the Oslo stars.