Armand

PALM SPRINGS INTERNATIONAL FILM FESTIVAL 2025 REVIEW! Halfdan Ullman Tøndel’s Armand is a true oddity: a deadly serious chamber drama with elements so surreal and unhinged they almost throw it entirely off-balance. The filmmaker attempts to dilute the “one setting, few characters, no action, all dialogue” shtick with “poetic” touches, but they do little to deepen or otherwise complement the focal subject matter. Furthermore, they make it seem like Tøndel has run himself into a corner, stretching out an already-protracted, claustrophobic two-hour narrative.

The film has a lot going for it. Its onion-like plot unravels layer-by-layer, skillfully revealing pertinent information that switches one’s perspective of the conflict. The lead performance by the talented Renate Reinsve may just be her most committed yet, exemplifying every emotion on the spectrum. At 90 minutes or so, with the needless pseudo-artistic embellishments and tautology tossed out, Armand would have been an intense and cerebral little psychological nail-biter.

The plot, in a nutshell (minor spoilers ahead): Elisabeth (Reinsve) is called into her six-year-old son Armand’s school for some trouble he’s caused. She’s promptly reassured that it’s not a big deal. When the victim’s folks, Sarah (Ellen Dorrit Petersen) and Anders (Endre Hellestveit), arrive, it turns out to be a huge deal: Elisabeth’s boy allegedly sexually assaulted his best friend. Mind-boggling and repulsive to even consider. Yet truths surface, and perhaps the situation is not as far-fetched as it seems.

Could it have been a “cry for help” from Armand, who’s experienced his father’s suicide and (again, allegedly) Elisabeth’s promiscuity? Maybe it is Sarah and Anders who require scrutiny – why would they drop off their son at Elisabeth’s so frequently? What’s up between Anders and Elisabeth? What are all these people hiding? The unreliability of the narrator here is the entire point, the film’s ambiguity its driving force, exemplified in Sunna (the wonderful Thea Lambrechts Vaulen), who strives to believe the best but is, too, riddled with doubt.

“…Elisabeth’s boy allegedly sexually assaulted his best friend…”

In the era of cancel culture, #MeToo, and many other such movements, the topics Tøndel addresses couldn’t be more relevant. How much evidence does one need when such an accusation comes to light, especially when children are involved? The lack of a clear resolution, despite some answers, hints, and insinuations, is suitably haunting.

The writer-director expertly navigates the “humor-to-drama” transitions, with unexpected, initially chuckle-inducing moments morphing into something deeply serious and often uncomfortable, like a sudden nosebleed or a prolonged laugh attack. He is less adept at imbuing the narrative with artsy non-sequiturs. About halfway through the film, an impromptu, not-a-little-insane, improvisational dance scene occurs, and that’s before the orgy-cum-dance, wherein Elisabeth is groped and tossed around by a group of people. The filmmaker thinks he’s upped the ante to extreme levels, underscoring his central themes with theatrical/metaphorical detours, but he’s come dangerously close to making a farce of the proceedings.

One could argue that the whole situation is fundamentally farcical: folks facing off against each other over an outlandish allegation. But therein lies the clash: the film takes itself very, very seriously; even the characters constantly reiterate just how serious this conundrum is (they also want to “wrap it up” on more than a few occasions well before the film does, and one can’t help but sympathize with their sentiment).

Armand utilizes a minimalist setting to delve into a big issue, relying on its resounding, complex controversy to grip the audience for 120 minutes. A not-quite-there curiosity touches a raw nerve, sure, but then yanks it repeatedly.

Armand screened at the 2025 Palm Springs International Film Festival.