Flame & Citron
Directed by Ole Christian Madsen
At Lincoln Plaza and Sunshine Cinemas
Runtime: 130 min.
Danish actor Mads Mikkelsen has the kind of somber presence that demands to be taken seriously. His English-speaking role as the calculating villain “Le Chiffre” in 2006’s Casino Royale confirmed two things: First, that the Euro-baddies in Bond films are still the best and, second, that Mikkelsen deserves the reputation his impenetrable, measured stare has earned him. Rugged, steely eyed and chalk-white, he exudes the aura of a man who broods for a living, concentrating on some sublimated dilemma so intently that he may be able to summon a comic book thought bubble for a halo by sheer force of will. Too bad his latest vehicle Flame & Citron, a Danish WWII thriller, forces him to be more serious than he should be.
As a film about the underground resistance movement in Denmark during the Nazi occupation, Flame & Citron’s spies are the historical equivalent of superheroes. They even have gaudy codenames, “Flame” (Thure Lindhart) for the ginger-haired gunslinger who does the bulk of the pair’s dirty work and “Citron” for the bitter, cuckolded family man Mikkelsen portrays.
The duo represents the necessity of black-and-white morality during wartime, so they normally shoot first and ask questions never. That changes when Flame becomes involved with Ketty “femme fatale” Selmer (Stine Stengade), who forces him to question whose side he’s really on.
Flame & Citron establishes its “gray” ethics by constantly reversing the moral certitude of the actions, forcing Flame to see the horror of war by wondering whether Ketty is a spy through each dismally repetitive incident, while Citron is left wondering if he’s no better than a common criminal for abandoning his family. By the end, the grays are revealed to be a flat combination of blacks and whites (killing a child is one of the film’s most manipulative coups on the audience’s tender heartstrings).
Mikkelsen looks great as a troubled provider unsure of his place, but there’s no joy to be had from the actor’s normally iconic gaze when it’s as poorly co-opted as it is here. Mikkelsen’s proud stance confirms that the good guys fought the good fight, even when they didn’t know what they were doing. If only a hard look were enough to make a tough character.
