Here is an unusual, engaging crime procedural that
depends way more on atmosphere and psychology than on the case details that are slowly revealed to us. Insomnia’s
cinematography creates a world of flat, unexceptional interiors made of the mundane, baseboard heating and spare, functional furnishings. The film’s high key lighting banishes shadows
and contributes to the sense that the light in this town of the midnight sun fills every space. And when when we're in Insomnia’s bright, flat interiors, every window shows us a burned out exterior
where the light is so strong that no detail is visible. The light in this film is a character, and it is an important factor
in the increasing psychosis of the chief investigator, Jonas Engström.
From the time our we first meet Engström, we have the sense
there is something wrong. He’s on a
plane with Erik Vik, his fellow investigator, when the pilot announces they've
crossed the Arctic Circle. The dozing
Vik rouses a bit, and then we hear the exact same announcement again, as though
Engström’s mind has momentarily slipped a notch, missed some information, or lapsed into a
daydream. It's not clear exactly what happens here, but we quickly realize that Engström’s mind is working in a way slightly different
from ours.
We’re soon following the sleepless Engström as he tries to solve the
murder of Tanja but accidentally shoots Vic. The detective then begins to build a web of lies to frame Tanja's murderer, Jon Holt,
for Vic’s death, but the lies becomes more and more complicated,
and Engström finds himself both the object of a police investigation and victim of
blackmail by Holt. And as Engström increasingly struggles to create a coherent story to account for the facts, director Erik
Skjoldbjærg also mixes in a couple of uncomfortable scenes charged with sexual
energy between Engström and local women. And all the while, Engström is unable to sleep
because of the harsh, omnipresent light in Tromsø, and his psychology, fragile
at the beginning of the film, shows more and more signs of strain.
Skjoldbjærg's achievement here is that the details of the crime are not the focus of interest in
Insomnia. Instead, we have an edgy, fascinating, detective improvising an increasingly complex and increasingly high stakes network of lies while he is on the verge of cracking in this environment that would stress even a sane person. And that is what we watch with fascination.
