‘Alpha.’: Seville Review

Dir/scr: Jan-Willem van Ewijk. Netherlands/Switzerland/Slovenia. 2024. 100mins

The chilliness of the Swiss Alps is no match for the chilliness of the father-son relationship at the heart of Jan-Willem van Ewijk’s third feature, Alpha. This forensic, mountain-set study of their struggle for dominance – and its shattering consequences – is itself rather cold in its detachment and refusal to engage viewer emotions. But Alpha’s careful structuring and formal daring, and its often-subtle take on the tricky issue of masculine identity, make it ideal festival fare. It screens in Seville’s official section following its premiere in Venice’s Giornate degli Autori, where it won the Europa Cinemas Label, and will next head to Stockholm.

Minimalistic to the point of being undercooked

Following the death of his mother, 30-something Rein (Reinout Scholten van Aschat) has retreated to the Alps to teach snowboarding, abandoning his ambitions to become a musician. A brief early scene featuring a standoff between Rein and another skier shows that, psychologically, Rein is not in a good place – a situation which worsens with the surprise arrival of his father Gijs (played by Reinout’s real life father Gijs Scholten van Aschat), a well-known actor who is an old-style alpha male, and who hasn’t seen Rein since the death of his wife.

Their exchanges, which highlight their differing ideas about manhood, are superbly uncomfortable throughout. “It’s OK to be sad”, says one. “It’s also OK not to be sad,” says the other. (This is a dialogue-light film in which utterances tend to be definitive.) It is clear that Gijs’ psychological bullying is one reason why Rein has chosen to escape following his mother’s death.

When they head out for a days’ skiing, with a couple of friends and Rein’s maybe-girlfriend Laura (Pia Amofa) – she doesn’t seem as sure that they are in a relationship as Rein is – the power dynamic changes: in the mountains, Rein is at home but Gijs feels out of his depth. Gijs flirts shamelessly with Laura, comparing her hands to those of his dead wife, but, as Rein points out, Gijs wasn’t even there when she died. 

Perhaps as punishment, Rein decides to take his father out of his comfort zone, high up the mountain. He allows Laura and the others to go ahead and, oddly, none of them are never referred to again by Rein, Gijs or the screenplay. Night falls and the ill-matched pair, neither of them equipped either emotionally or practically for what lies ahead, must face the immensity of the mountains together, both now feeling vulnerable and useless in the shadow of something far bigger than they are. At last, the camera comes down from on high and starts to take a more careful look at them.

The theme of warring versions of masculinity is potentially very rich, but van Ewijk’s treatment of it is minimalistic to the point of being undercooked. It’s unclear whether the director’s true allegiance is to his characters or to providing a visual celebration of the mighty, and inevitably dominant, Swiss Alps. As the film goes on, those beautifully framed aerial shots, or which there are many, start to feel like a distraction from the developing action. It is almost as though, in his desire to capture the mountains in all their majesty, van Ewijk has left himself short of time to fully explore the human consequences of his characters or their story. 

Moreover, given what happens over the film’s final third, the fact that the script entirely abandons Laura and her friends following their departure creates a ravine-sized credibility gap that could easily have been closed: the focus on the big picture means that key detail has been lost. This may be a part of the film’s minimalist feel – or it may be a simple oversight. On the upside, those mountains are the most enthralling of backdrops, the father-son dynamic is subtly and economically drawn, and the pervasive mood of encroaching discomfort is stylishly rendered.