THE HOSTAGE

A hijacked plane lands at Riga Airport, a farmer narrowly escapes a putative attempt on his life, a police detective almost burns alive, the cyclists competing in a race fall under suspicion of doping, a biathlete mutates to a sniper, and a highly dubious song contest ends in chaos. In Laila Pakalniņa’s fast-paced deconstruction of the thriller genre, the bizarre occurrences all turn out to be connected. Skilfully playing with viewer expectations, the director charges trifles with significance and builds up tension. And while the latter melts away, more than a glimpse of everyday madness shimmers through the whole story. Pakalniņa pursues her own agenda in regard to her craft, likewise: furious camerawork; long, unconventional shots, and starkly accentuated editing neatly connect the intertwined plot strands. The kidnapper and his 7-year-old hostage sit in the belly of the besieged plane, calm and composed, thinking up new demands and munching on chocolate. Outside people are rushing about in confusion, trying to do their jobs. In the end, the very Latvian solution found for the hostage crisis involves some tampering with two sacred national institutions, song contests and the biathlon. The “reality” is set against a prefabricated television world whose uncritical earnestness makes the absurdity of events even more glaringly apparent. With a furious showdown involving all the protagonists and the disintegration of the last, laboriously upheld semblance of civilization, the laughter sticks in the viewer’s throat. German premiere.