In June last year the TUC published a report suggesting that only 1% of fathers take any additional paternity leave above the entitled two weeks. While this is predominantly due to financial reasons, it reflects that despite living in “modern times”, society’s attitude towards parenting is still affected by outdated stereotype. Mikkel Nørgaard’s bizarre comedy, confronts the issue of men becoming fathers with quirky and frequent hilarity.
When Frank (Frank Havm) discovers his girlfriend Mia is pregnant, but has been hiding it from him because of reservations about his suitability as a dad, his confidence is understandably a little shaken. Efforts to convince Mia of his appropriateness don’t quite go according to plan so in a last ditch attempt, Frank ‘kidnaps’ Mia’s twelve-year-old nephew Bo (Marcuz Jess Petersen) and takes him on the canoeing trip he’d been planning with best friend Casper (Casper Christensen). Things come to a loggerhead however, when Frank’s plans of rehearsing his fatherhood proficiency directly oppose Casper’s debauched yearning for extra-marital intercourse, heady intoxication and general mischievous merriment.
Although the film’s premise relies on Frank’s inability to make rational and sensible decisions, the often ludicrous and outlandish events don’t feel over the top and unbelievable but fit naturally into the slightly exaggerated world the narrative has created. Even at moments of borderline slapstick (the fight in the canoe which inevitably capsizes) the straight-faced delivery, much like The Office, prevents them from becoming actions for comedy sake and instead aligns them with the emotional journey of the characters, making you empathise with them while still providing humour.
Havm portrays the timid but defiant father-to-be with a gangly dominance, aware of his geeky and downtrodden status but proud enough to not carry a chip on his shoulder. His meekness is masterfully contrasted against the self-centred assertiveness of Christensen’s lecherous womaniser. With neither man being a particularly good role model, Klown outwardly appears to conform to the stereotype that rearing a child is the mother’s role. However, the very principle of the movie and the lengths Frank goes to in order to prove himself worthy as a dad, support the idea that parenting is something best achieved as a family unit. Frank and Casper’s woeful efforts at being responsible, in effect highlight what’s important about bringing up a child.
Visually the film is varied. Nørgaard provides sumptuous vistas of the peaceful Danish countryside as the ungainly trio paddle their way through the landscape. Wide panning shots and an unobtrusive soundtrack give these scenes a sense of harmony with the environment; a gentle accord between man and nature that mimics the kind of relationship Frank is desperately trying (and failing) to forge with Bo. These scenes are juxtaposed against short, quickly spliced together shots, especially seen at the music festival where they’re accompanied by a maniacal and frenzied score, accentuating the frenetic change of pace and also the unravelling of Frank’s control on the situation. This combination of different styles prevents the narrative from becoming too repetitious and predictable, breaking the story into chapters and keeping interest keen.
The film is largely so successful because of the script’s skilful balancing of distinctive comedy with a strong sense of sentimentality. Written by Nørgaard, Havm and Christensen, it tactfully follows up moments of cringing discomfort (the finger in the bum) with genuine, heartfelt emotion. It’s this that separates Klown from other silly and raunchy titles such as the Carry On series. Although unashamedly a comedy, at its heart this is a film of personal betterment and redemption. Through taking the journey with Bo, not only does Frank discover the warmth of child-care but, through having a target to apply himself towards, he also realises his full potential. Klown is a riotous but contemplative exploration into the anxieties and rewards of becoming a parent.