The unsightly abomination, which we are supposed to endure as the protagonist, has an awfully low self-esteem; he is embarrassed of his size; he is inept to comply with his gorgeous wife, Diana; and consequently equivocal to her desire for having children. As the narrative hurtles impressively, he is seen copulating with another woman, merely to quench his conjugally dysfunctional concupiscent desires.
The interview wherein he talks about the importance of reputation is brilliant. But the initially promising set-up soon dissipates. We are supposed to root for this insecure, despicable weed that, despite being adulterous himself, gets in a moral rage when he stumbles upon his wife's infidelity. We are to cheer for this parasite that obdurately refuses to take its dying pal to hospital. Of course, Morten Tyldum expects us to embrace the "shades of grey", yet he gets moralistic with an utterly cheesy, saccharine sweet climax, ridiculously accentuated by Diana's pot-belly.
In a miserable attempt to evince his "breed", this fecal sausage disguised as an actor, not only threatens to sack Clas Greve (played effortlessly by Nikolaj Coaster-Waldau) but also render him unemployable. His persona as an intimidating corporate magnate, who can make or break careers at whim, is a giggle. It gets downright laughable when the director tries to pass this rickety, emasculated eyesore as a John Rambo and a suave, charming James Bond-archetype, who wrestles out of every peril laid out for him.
It doesn't help the fact that Aksel Hennie has neither the charisma nor the talent to play this character. How could someone so ineffectual, with the appeal of human excrement, be entrusted with this role: perhaps as an amulet to ward-off the evil eye? It's as baffling as to see a sophisticated beauty, Diana, feed on this coughed-up phlegm.
The interview wherein he talks about the importance of reputation is brilliant. But the initially promising set-up soon dissipates. We are supposed to root for this insecure, despicable weed that, despite being adulterous himself, gets in a moral rage when he stumbles upon his wife's infidelity. We are to cheer for this parasite that obdurately refuses to take its dying pal to hospital. Of course, Morten Tyldum expects us to embrace the "shades of grey", yet he gets moralistic with an utterly cheesy, saccharine sweet climax, ridiculously accentuated by Diana's pot-belly.
In a miserable attempt to evince his "breed", this fecal sausage disguised as an actor, not only threatens to sack Clas Greve (played effortlessly by Nikolaj Coaster-Waldau) but also render him unemployable. His persona as an intimidating corporate magnate, who can make or break careers at whim, is a giggle. It gets downright laughable when the director tries to pass this rickety, emasculated eyesore as a John Rambo and a suave, charming James Bond-archetype, who wrestles out of every peril laid out for him.
It doesn't help the fact that Aksel Hennie has neither the charisma nor the talent to play this character. How could someone so ineffectual, with the appeal of human excrement, be entrusted with this role: perhaps as an amulet to ward-off the evil eye? It's as baffling as to see a sophisticated beauty, Diana, feed on this coughed-up phlegm.