(English Title ‘Evil Rising’), Directed by A. J. Annila, 2008, 83 minutes

In 1595 soldiers from a recent war between Russia and Sweden form a border commission to divide territory. They discover an uncharted, isolated village with a seemingly derelict bath house. As tension between the recent enemies mounts negotiations founder in confusion and frustration. When people begin to disappear brothers Erik (Ville Vertanen) and Knut Spore (Tommi Eronen) attempt to understand the ominous significance of the sauna.

It is rare to find a film of such narrative economy as ‘Sauna’; it runs at less than eighty minutes yet achieves so much within this short span that it leaves more elaborate films breathless to catch up. Dialogue is sparse but replete with meaning; the faces and eyes of the actors are left to fill in character detail and motivation with emotional response. These worn and weary faces are testament to lives twisted out of shape by years of war. The small ensemble cast particularly lead actors Ville Vertanen and Tommi Eronen as brothers Erik and Knut Spore and Viktor Klimenko as Russian veteran Semenski contribute outstanding performances. These are realistic, fully drawn characters rather than hastily sketched victims. There are no simple heroes or villains here. Despite Erik’s capacity for violence his love for his brother is deeply felt and tender. Knut’s honourable affability is compromised by paralysing guilt and thwarted desire. Much of the horror of ‘Sauna’ is personal or existential, this demands that director Annila and screenwriter Liro Küttner work carefully to establish character so that we care about what happens to these men and share their terror.

The sauna has a unique cultural role in Scandinavian culture. It represents hospitality, a place where guests are invited to soak away their fatigue; a haven of warmth and conversation which offers relief from the harsh climate. It is also a symbolic gateway, fulfilling a more sombre role in rites of passage where the new-born and dead are purified. Annila’s film takes the concept of the sauna to its metaphysical extreme. This sauna is a dark void where sins can be expiated but at terrible cost. Inside “the future always has its back to us” and when loved ones turn to face us, we no longer recognise them.

The film begins with an epigrammatic explanation of all that is to follow. This is delivered by Semenski in the form of a parable: Strange and direct, his tale cuts away the expositional excrescence so common in supernatural cinema and leaves the film’s emotional and philosophical core exposed. The story of the village and the sauna itself remains largely untold. We learn only enough to intrigue and frighten us. This is a film about despair and disillusionment, about lives stained and torn by guilt and hopes left far beyond fulfilment. ‘Sauna’ faces the filthy residue left by violence, corruption, betrayal with a steady eye and sets the dark stain of guilt against man’s poignant desire for redemption. There are very few laughs here. Unlike much horror or supernatural cinema ‘Sauna’ takes itself very seriously and addresses us as adults rather than emotional teenagers or children. Harsh truths are told straight with no concessions made to sentiment.

The film posits that guilt is an inevitable part of the human condition and that as remorse accretes the desire for expiation becomes unbearable. The characters of ‘Sauna’, fresh from a bitter and bloody war have more sins to purge than most. Brothers Erich and Knut struggle to maintain a relationship overshadowed by the past. Erich is haunted by the lives he has taken in a war that has kept him away from his home and family for twenty-five years; frustrated and disgusted by his aging body (signified in the film by his failing eyesight) he tries in vain to preserve the innocence of his younger brother Knut, an academic who has been kept away from the conflict but who now has cause for guilt of his own. The Russians also bring dark pasts with them, they all have sins to wash away but some dirt can never be removed no matter how hot the water and how harsh the scrubbing.

Set in an unsparing winter landscape Henri Blomberg’s photography has little colour but creates a profound sense of isolation. The film relies on being off the map leaving both the characters and audience disorientated. The environment is as uncertain and merciless as the Zone in Tarkovsky’s ‘Stalker’ (1979), a film with which ‘Sauna’ has some stylistic and thematic affinity. Bare trees stand in serried ranks like a bleached-out monochrome copy of Klimt’s ‘Birch Forest’ (1902). The flat horizon extends to infinity and the characters appear insignificant, left exposed with no place to hide from their personal demons.  The sombre orchestral score by Panu Aaltio with its lyrical piano solos perfectly complements the films stark, uncompromising tone.

‘Sauna’ generates a profound sense of foreboding. We know that something is coming but we don’t know what it is; the villagers are waiting for “something not even God would be able to watch”. This may seem like an idle threat in our jaded and visually over-saturated culture but Annila delivers a climax that offers the viewer a vision quite unlike anything seen before, an image of utter dread that will stay with you long after the film has finished.

‘Sauna’ is horror cinema for adults, it is a timely reminder that the supernatural genre retains the power to explore profound truths and shock audiences to silence as it did when we told ourselves tales around the fire with darkness at our backs. Despite its uncompromising view of the human condition it is also touching and strangely beautiful. Enter with a steady gaze and marvel.

Quotes

“…maybe it’s not a sauna – but only appears to be one because we can’t comprehend what it is” –  Semensky (Viktor Klimenko)

“Darkness doesn’t reflect; it absorbs” – Eukko (Kati Outinen)

Connections

Film

‘Hour of the Wolf’ directed by Ingmar Bergman (1968)

‘Stalker’ directed by Andrei Tarkovsky (1979)

‘The Village’ directed by M Night Shyamalan (2004)

‘AntiChrist’ directed by Lars von Trier (2009)

‘November’ directed by Rainer Sarnet (2017)