Cold as a Copenhagen winter

Rating: 5/10 (4 January 2016)

Set in Copenhagen in the mid-1920s, this film tells the story of the first person to undergo gender reassignment surgery, a story which does not, sadly, have a happy ending. Einar Wegener, a Danish painter, has been married to a fellow-artist, Gerda for six years. Gradually he becomes obsessed with the idea of becoming a woman, a quest which leads him to submit to untried medical procedures which eventually prove fatal.
It does not take much imagination to appreciate how challenging it must be to find oneself stuck in the 'wrong' body and impelled to rectify this situation by resort to surgery. Perils loom on all sides - the physical risks, the psychological anguish, the threats to personal relationships, the fear of social ostracism or worse - and smooth passage seems improbable. How much more so given the state of medical and psychological knowledge in the 1920s and a less liberal moral climate than prevails today. Surely such a prospect must make for rich and vibrant drama. Yet, despite its dramatic potential, the Wegeners' story is given such a flat treatment by Tom Hooper that the movie verges on boring at times.
A bleak note is struck from the start and continued with little respite. The mood is cold and gloomy, emphasised by the colourless, sparely-furnished interiors (light-grey walls in their apartment, harsh white wall tiles in the clinics and consulting rooms - only when Gerda visits Paris do we see some gorgeous period interiors), the bare wintry landscapes of Copenhagen, and the minor-key music. The tempo is one-paced and the dialogue is often stilted and dreary. Can this really be someone engaged in a momentous struggle with their identity and, consequently, with their personal relationships and their position in society? Indeed, when Einar first steps out into the world as Lili, she seems barely noticed by those around her despite looking far from convincing as a female.
Einar and Gerda never explore with each other in any sustained way what is happening to him and its implications for their relationship. Partly because of this we get little understanding of Einar's self-perception, little sense of his insights into his condition. Similarly, we don't encounter the desperation of someone in crisis except very late on when Einar is battling with the immediate after-effects of his operations. Mercifully, we are spared visual details of his exposure to the surgeon's scalpel.
The lead characters are surprisingly one-dimensional and seem to be narrowly self-obsessed. The emotional range is equally constrained for while we witness neediness, longing and lust, there is no real passion, no sense of warm affection or love between Gerda and her husband. Nor do we see real anger displayed, despite there being much for the characters to be angry about. Lili's quest for transformation seems to bring no one any lasting pleasure.
The exaggerated and awkward manner that Eddie Redmayne brought to the character of Stephen Hawking, and which worked brilliantly there, does not really do so here. Instead it proves a distraction. Lili repeatedly responds to male attention with little more than shy downward glances and simpering expressions which become rather embarrassing to watch. Perhaps only a more accomplished actor than Redmayne could carry off this highly demanding role successfully. Alicia Vikander does much better as Gerda but cannot shine so brightly in Redmayne's shadow.
There is clearly plenty of talent associated with this film and the story of the Wegeners seems worth telling. But this movie fails to hit the mark.
Viewed at Home (successor to The Cornerhouse), Manchester, UK, 03.01.16.