Marketic It's no definitive masterpiece but it's damn close.

Executscan Expected more

Monkeywess This is an astonishing documentary that will wring your heart while it bends your mind

Marva-nova Amazing worth wacthing. So good. Biased but well made with many good points.

friedman-302-406495 Understated yet compelling, "Cool and Crazy" effortlessly explores the paradoxes of past vs. present, community vs. isolation, and religion vs. secularism.This well-received full-length documentary from acclaimed Norwegian director Knut Erik Jenson provides an in-depth look at the Berlevåg Men's Choir – its music, its travels, and most importantly, its members. It is a compilation of the choir's performances, of candid interviews with the men, and of the stark winter environment of Finnmark. Slow-moving and without much action, the film mirrors daily life in the small northern Norwegian village: Berlevåg is a quiet, traditional fishing community with strong ties to the church. Yet the effects of globalization and modernization are seeping into this village, displacing much of the population and secularizing and isolating the remaining inhabitants. Even an audience that knows little about rural Scandinavian culture is familiar with this disturbing process. The conflict between past and present is an international theme that touches the heart of many. American viewers leave "Cool and Crazy" with a sense of sympathy and connection that most foreign documentaries fail to impart. The principal paradox in this film is that between past and present. As one of the choir members explains, Berlevåg was once a flourishing fishing community. Not only did fishing provide employment, it was the backbone of the village's culture. One of the choir's songs is about working in the fishing factory. The lyrics describe the various jobs involved in filleting the fish and light-heartedly poke fun at the gendered dimension of the work. Many other songs discuss fishing more subtly, referring to the sea as the source of life or as Mother Nature herself. But times are changing. Many of Berlevåg's residents have migrated to cities in order to pursue a more "modern" lifestyle. "Money controls the people," one of the singers explains. The decrease in fisheries from five to one, lack of cars or pedestrians on the street, and excess of elderly choir members all confirm the abandonment. Berlevåg is a shell of its former self. Yet all is not lost. One of the choir's youngest members, probably in his late twenties or early thirties, declares that he and his wife plan to stay in the village because it is a good place to raise their three children. An older member tells us that his grandchildren live in the village as well. And then there's the middle-aged fisherman who could have been a mathematician but decided to spend his life as a fisherman, asking with a smile, "Why strive for more when you have a fulfilling life?" All of these signs point to a past that, while fading, is far from lost. As the majority of people leave Berlevåg in the name of modernization, the community disintegrates and those few that remain find themselves newly isolated. A number of men in the choir speak of a time when the port was thick with ships and the fisheries bustled with busy men and women. Their voices are filled with nostalgia, faces heavy with wrinkles. Even their houses have a sad silence. One of the most poignant moments of the film is when an elderly choir member says "I especially appreciate the rehearsals now that I'm alone." He is taking about the death of his long-time girlfriend, but the audience understands he is also referring to the deeper loneliness of a greater abandonment. This sense of isolation is enforced by the frequent shots of nature: windy fields, calm ocean, snowy skies – all desolate and remote, yet profoundly beautiful. The subtle, distinct beauty of this environment speaks to the fact that Berlevåg's community, like the past, is not gone. The focus of the film, after all, is a tight-knit group of men that comes together not only to sing, but also to chat, cook, and offer support. An apt example of this positive male culture is the scene in which two of the men are preparing a meal together, gently mocking one another about his weight. There is no violence, no underlying cruelty or anger – just good friends having fun. What's more, the viewer observes a number of middle-aged men and a few young men as the camera slowly pans across the choir. The fact that the choir is multi-generational inspires hope for the future. Perhaps the younger men can act as a bridge between past, present, and future. Perhaps the community will carry on in the years to come, even in the form of a small men's choir. Less the result of modernization and more the result of globalization, Berlevåg is becoming increasingly secularized. One can plainly see Christianity's mark on the village: the simple white church on the hill, the deeply religious lyrics and hymnal quality of many of the choir's songs. Yet the church and the music are more symbols than indications of a strong, active faith. Religion is clearly a thing of the past. Never do we see a church service in session. Never do the choir members mention God or Christ. Even the church organist openly considers himself an atheist or agnostic. And then there's the staunch communist, the ultimate representation of secularity. Unlike that between past and present or community and isolation, this paradox seems to lack complexity. Berlevåg appears to be moving distinctly from religion to secularism, with no sign of indecisiveness. Yet the choir's songs – undeniably placed at the center of the film – speak of spirituality, the bible, and Christian values. Is the singing of this music simply a tribute to the past, to things long gone never to return again? Or does it suggest a vague preservation, even continuation of these beliefs? The viewer leaves the film, somewhat uneasily, without an answer to this question. But perhaps that is Jenson's point: "Cool and Crazy" represents a village – and a world – caught smack dab in the middle of the past and the future. And no one knows where we'll end up.

larsga This is the only movie I ever watched twice in a cinema. The first time I recall being confused at the end, being unable to tell if I was laughing or crying. Never, ever, did I have a movie experience like this.Unfortunately, if you are not Norwegian, and you can't understand what the people in the movie are saying you will necessarily lose out on a lot. (A lot of inexplicable value and detail is in how they talk.) Also, if you don't know much about Norway and the arctic region there are lots of things you won't understand. As a an example picked at random, if you're Norwegian, the first 30 seconds are a pretty poignant meditation on the poverty of state charity in the richest oil nation on earth, but if you are not Norwegian it will be utterly incomprehensible. (On the other hand, it's only 30 seconds, so if you're not Norwegian you can just watch that floating past and ignore it.) What I really loved about the movie is the way it shows normal people (for Northern Norway, which means they're not really normal at all) not going about their normal business, but talking openly and honestly about the things that matter the most to them in their lives. The scene where the communist (at 70 degrees north near the Soviet Union during the cold war this actually meant something) ruminating about his freewheeling former life as a punk rock singer while brushing himself in the bathtub is priceless. 2-3 minutes of that alone is worth the price of buying the movie, watching it 5 times, *and* learning Norwegian so you can understand what the hell the guy is saying. ("Thinking back it often makes me sad. *leisurely stroke of the brush* Oftentimes it was just pure lust. *brushing soap out of his beard* You know, being the vocalist, you would be the most attractive. *breaks off, stares at soapy water*) This may sound ridiculous, but watching the movie it is painfully clear that for the guy in the tub, what he's talking about is the high point of his life, and here he's offering it freely, with no reservations, in the movie. It's only a few minutes altogether, and it alone is worth more than I could tell you. You may laugh, or you may cry, or you may not know which.And so it goes, throughout the entire movie. The characters are frequently hilarious, frequently murderously honest (the drug addict talking about how he'd meet the coastal ferry on the quay every day in the hope of a talent spotter spotting him; the church organist on how the Luftwaffe put a metal plate into his head; the drug addict on the joys (and troubles) of having his own apartment for the first time; the convinced communist crying at a war memorial across the Russian border; the whole choir wordlessly aghast at the environmental destruction at the metalworks in Nikel...), and never anything less than absolutely riveting.I think I could probably retell this movie frame by frame, despite having watched it only twice. Most parts of it are indelibly etched on the insides of my eyes. Forty years from now I may have forgotten the names of my grandchildren, and still remember the guy who keeps the photo of his first sweetheart (from when he was 16) on the living-room wall, despite his wife's disapproval (shhh! he tells the camera (the CAMERA!), and who still brushes his hair for best effect (with water) at 75, vain as a peacock, and who doesn't care at all that the whole world gets to see all of this.And so it goes, on and on, throughout the entire movie. These people lay their lives bare in details so poignant and telling that the mere thought of it fills me with awe, and the end is sad because it means the end of the movie. It's touching, ridiculous, painful, and unforgettable. If I could only keep one movie out of the hundreds I've seen, it would be this one, and I would consider the loss of all the others pretty cheap.If you can't understand Norwegian dialect, multiply the above by 0.8, as much of the nuance of what is said will be lost on you.

lucy-66 I saw this movie in central London. General age group of the audience was quite young, and I heard one say "wonderful film!" as they left, also they applauded. But some of the audience treated it as a bit of a freak show. They seemed to think these ugly, old people were hilarious, and laughed whenever they did anything slightly "embarrassing". Maybe this says more about English people than it does about the film or about Norwegian people! But I found something in the way the film was made that invited you to laugh, and not kindly. The choir members were encouraged to reveal themselves: their pasts, their sex lives, their naked bodies (in the bath). But sometimes the camera deliberately made them grotesque. Do they really sing outside during snowstorms? The performances you heard were certainly not recorded in snowstorms but in a hall, and dubbed on. Also sound effects like whistling wind were exaggerated, apparently for 'comic' effect. The English translations of the songs were laughable - deliberately? This film is not as innocent as it seems.

ingemli Heftig og Begeistret (Intense and Enthusiastic) is a documentary-like story of a male choir up in Berlevåg in the very northern part of Norway, where the weather is cold and hostile, the days are dark during the winter and the towns are faced with young people moving to the more populated parts in the south of Norway, where the climate is warmer and there are more opportunities.The most beautiful part of this movie is the humans themselves. The people in the choir, who are aged from 30 to 95, all have unique, colorful lives and are very enjoyable beings. They are characterised by the harsh climate and the recession of the North and have adapted to the way of living required. Throughout the movie, we learn a bit about many people in the choir and we follow them through songs, some events in a church and on the harbour, and in the end, a trip to Murmansk.The outside environment filmed in the movie is very beautiful and characterised by the Norwegian nature. The scenography is also natural and taken directly from the choir and from the peoples lives that we meet. Thei r livingrooms, the bathroom, the kettle on the oven; there is nothing artificial about this movie, not the people, not the environment, not their music and not their feelings. Everything is as real as can be. It all loses out though when it comes to giving a story. It is very beautiful and real, but why do we see it? Is it because of the songs? Is it because of the nature? Or is it simply just to see a story about Berlevåg Mens-Choir, about their life and some of the trips they have. The message, if there is any, is that this small society copes with life through such social events like the choir. The choir have kept the people together for many many years.It is all nice, but being as popular as it has been, seen by almost 200.000 in Norway, there is something wrong. There is no beginning or end to it. Nobody gains or loses anything, nobody reveals any message or tries to convince the audience of that this is good or that life up there is great. Why was this movie made?I am sorry. It is a nice movie about good people, but compared to the average European, Scandinavian or Norwegian movie - this does not deserve a 9 out of 10. It is closer to 4 out of 10, and that is what I will give it. If you see this movie in a theater, you should expect the average age on the audience to be around 55-60. It has reported to be consistently high in all theaters. Maybe this is also the reason for it receiving such very high praise in the news and good grades also on the IMDB: It is a movie about elders, for elders. It is a movie of "I regret nothing in my life", and a story saying that living in a small town like Berlevåg, might be a nice life too.