A 'Celebration' to Savor By Michael O'Sullivan Washington Post Staff Writer Friday, November 6, 1998

A son with shocking secrets reveals them to the family at a reunion. (October) Director: Thomas Vinterberg Cast: Ulrich Thmsen; Henning Moritzen; Thomas Bo Larsen; Paprika Steen; Birthe Neumann; Trine Dyrholm Running Time: 1 hour, 45 minutes For profanity, sex, nudity, fisticuffs and themes of physical and emotional abuse

In the same vein as Neil LaBute's virulent "Your Friends and Neighbors" and Todd Solondz's corrosive "Happiness," which tore at the meat of social intercourse like hungry dingoes, Danish director Thomas Vinterberg's "The Celebration" also bites shrewdly, this time into the intimate flesh of family relationships. Its sparse, Scandinavian humor may be less prominent than that of the other two recent films, but its sting is no less astringent or astute.

Set at a family reunion on the occasion of Helge Klingenfeldt's (Henning Moritzen) 60th birthday, "The Celebration" focuses on the patrician businessman's three grown children: Christian (Ulrich Thomsen), Michael (Thomas Bo Larsen) and Helene (Paprika Steen). Only a few weeks earlier, there were four of them, but Christian's twin sister Linda, (Lene Laub Oksen), has just been put in the ground, a suicide.

When earringed brother Michael arrives at the Klingenfeldt country estate with his sullen wife, Mette (Helle Dolleris), and three kids in tow, he finds that he is not on the guest list, having been banned from family functions after imbibing too much schnapps at last year's celebration. Daddy, apparently, is trying to avoid another scene from the black sheep of the family, who resents his more successful brother and father.

(Daddy ain't seen nothing yet.)

It's not Michael, after all, that the old man has to fear, but straight-laced Christian, who gets the formal dinner off to an unpleasant start with a toast to dear old Dad containing a nugget of family news that will curl your toes. It seems that Linda's suicide and the festive occasion have inspired him to reveal a long-repressed secret in front of four generations of Klingenfeldt kith and kin. Like the rest of Helge's floored guests, you will probably not know whether to take Christian's bombshell as a sick joke or the even sicker truth, but pull up a chair, my friends, the night is still young.

Before sunrise, Christian gets tossed out of the dining room on his ear not once but twice, each time returning to the party with an even more shocking bombshell. Then Helene's date shows up: an English-speaking black man named Gbatokai (Gbatokai Dakinah). He is mistaken for the help; then, after making the mistake of defending Christian, Gbatokai is serenaded by the gathering with a racist ditty. Soon, blows and recrimination are being served up along with the dessert mints.

Like the trapped dinner guests in Luis Bunuel's surreal "The Exterminating Angel," many members of this captive audience also try to flee the nightmarish soiree but can't – only this time it's because the chef (Bjarne Henriksen), a childhood friend of Christian's, has confiscated their car keys. Assisting him in the endeavor are housemaids Michelle (Therese Glahn) and Pia (Trine Dyrholm), whose entanglements with the Klingenfeldt clan are not entirely platonic.

Ultimately, though, what is even more shocking than Christian's secret is the fact that it isn't so secret at all. Over the course of the night's harrowing events, it becomes clear that some major denial has been going on – that certain family members have chosen to maintain appearances rather than face horrible facts. It's the recognition of that extreme defense mechanism – one that would dare to weigh a human life against the preservation of superficial livability – that is the most horrible (and familiar) thing about "The Celebration."

Director Vinterberg is one of four Danish filmmakers (including Lars von Trier of "Breaking the Waves") who came out a few years ago with the manifesto called "Dogme 95." In accordance with their (possibly tongue-in-cheek) "vow of chastity" to shun filmmaking tricks, "The Celebration" was shot with a hand-held video camera in available light and then transferred to film.

The wobbly, staggering frame of reference effectively casts the audience in the role of a hapless fellow dinner guest, alternately eavesdropping, drunken and increasingly panicked when the festivities turn ugly. It may not be the most comfortable vantage point from which to view the queasy proceedings, but for those who can stand the emotional bear-baiting of "The Celebration," it's the best seat in the house.