Pretty much tailor-made as the opener of the 49th Göteborg Film Festival, The Quiet Beekeeper has steadily gained a fair bit of pre-premiere buzz. The main spotlight is on writer-director Marcus Carlsson, whose thus far modestly distributed output has found esteem among those seeking his works out. His participation in this year’s Nordic Competition will add further clout.

Set in the midwestern province of Värmland, right by the Norwegian border, the story plays out in “American” Sweden, where sturdy pickups roam the rustic heartland as the massive timber trains keep on rolling, much like they did 100 years ago. “He who’s happy remains,” says Olof (Adam Lundgren, who also co-wrote the script). Like Pa and Grandpa before him, Olof keeps bees and drives a snowplough in wintertime to keep the bills paid. Olof’s immediate family consists of mother Christina, sister Amanda and teenage daughter Lise, providing comfort, belonging and spark to everyday life. Eligible and decidedly handsome, he’ll occasionally venture into non-committal relationships with local females. Then there are the bees, of course, which are almost family in themselves, even when occasionally inflicting an ill-tempered sting.

Olof’s real troubles lie in some recent life events – namely, the death of his wife and the mother of his daughter. True to these sturdy surroundings, the males are of the quiet sort, this main protagonist being no exception. Mother Christina mutters wearily about “typical menfolk”. Daughter Lise gets increasingly and understandably frustrated, stinging quite harshly herself at times. Another matter, which is equally shrugged off, are the coughs and physical pains that regularly overcome Olof. He’s not really in that happy place, our quiet beekeeper.

While this may sound theoretically gloomy, it’s in reality anything but, in no small part thanks to the thoughtful handling of a warmly melancholic, affirmative slice of imperfect humanity. In his director’s statement, Carlsson namechecks the cinema of Kelly Reichardt and Peter Fonda in Ulee’s Gold (another beekeeper), but the main tone is pure and authentic Scandinavian, recalling the fresh waves of the 1960s, and filmmakers like Bo Widerberg and Jan Troell (who’s thanked in the end credits). Like those cherished forerunners, Carlsson handpicks seasoned professional actors together with first-timers and captures those chance moments of magic that can, and do, arise. Highlighting any performance feels almost unfair to those unmentioned, but Marika Lindström, veteran of stage and screen and the popular face of several 1980s soap series, has rarely been better as Olof’s ever-dependable mother. Celluloid novice Hedvig Nilsson may well be a find of the year as the prickly Lise. Adam Lundgren, quite the golden boy of Swedish series like The Restaurant and recently seen in The Ugly Stepsister [+lire aussi :
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fiche film], gives one of his finest turns in the title role. Keen admirers will spot 1970s grindhouse icon Christina Lindberg (They Call Her One Eye) as a kind-hearted cancer-ward night nurse, a piece of excellent casting against type.

Praise should also go to the atmospheric score by the legendary Janne Schaffer, without whose lyrical guitar ABBA wouldn’t sound the same, and the dialect, which is equally lyrical, all but unintelligible for most and generously subtitled for all.

The Quiet Beekeeper is a Swedish production staged by Mariedamfilm, and co-produced by SVT, Region Värmland, Auditory and Shoot & Post.