A Pigeon Sat on a Branch Reflecting on Existence – Roy Andersson: What is life?

Petra Novalija

Roy Andersson, master of the cinematic absurd, concludes his trilogy on human existence with the film "A Pigeon Sat on a Branch Reflecting on Existence" (2014), which won the Golden Lion at the Venice Film Festival. The film offers a series of "vignettes" in which grotesque, lifeless characters survive everyday life as a sense of anxious meaninglessness looms over their lives. In other words, a film that recalls the bad days in the life of every viewer – just with a little better lighting. Following two clumsy novelty salesmen, Andersson constructs a world in which existence is more like an uneasy show than a meaningful experience. But the question arises – are these characters really the heroes of their lives or just spectators of their own demise?

Andersson's humor isn't just funny, it's embarrassingly funny. It's that laugh that breaks out when you collide with a person walking in the opposite direction and after five tries, you finally manage to pass each other. His style is based on the absurdity of everyday life and complete emotional non-communication between people, which is not only an aesthetic choice but also a very realistic depiction of Swedes in an elevator. In Swedish culture, there is the concept of lagom – the idea of moderation and balance, often reflected in the slow pace of narration, static shots and dialogues that sound as if they were written by people who have not spoken to other people for at least ten years. Visually recognizable, Andersson builds the film through static, almost painterly frames in which the world looks like a pale version of past reality. Pastel tones and stiff, tired characters are reminiscent of the landscapes of Pieter Brueghel especially his painting "The Hunters in the Snow", where figures roam through the cold space where life takes place, but true liveliness is absent. Just like Brueghel's hunters, Andersson's anti-heroes also seem to have gone for the meaning of life, but have forgotten where they parked along the way. It is worth highlighting the scene in which King Charles XII bursts into a modern bar with an army, completely unaware of the shock of the guests present. While the king orders a drink, the wounded soldiers fall to the floor, and the waiters continue their work as if everything is part of the usual ritual. This scene essentially illustrates Andersson's ability to blend past and present into the same grotesque indifference; history repeats itself again and again, and people, unable to learn, just continue to serve drinks as empires collapse. The film does not give a classic narration, but a series of scenes in which people behave like puppets of fate – from soldiers from past centuries who wander into the present to callous businessmen so busy with profit that they do not notice that their ethics have long escaped through the window. The most striking scene depicts capitalism in its most brutal form; men in suits watch as the natives are imprisoned in a huge copper cylinder that is then heated to a boil. Considering how society works, it is not impossible to imagine that someone would call this scene a “great business opportunity”. The pigeon in the title of the film is a symbol of the observer, the one who witnesses the world, but does not participate. It does not fly, it does not act, but simply sits and waits – like people in the waiting rooms of public institutions around the world. Andersson's world is filled with people who are not fighting for a better future, but just staring into nothingness, powerless before their own destiny, as if they are waiting for the existential crisis to come to them instead of ceasing to be participants in an endless bureaucratic process without an information counter.

"A Pigeon Sat on a Branch Reflecting on Existence" offers no comfort or answers, but it does provide an opportunity for that uneasy, quiet laughter. Andersson's precise direction and gloomy aesthetics make this film a unique experience that is difficult to place in conventional frames. Ultimately, the question he asks remains open: are we really living or are we just waiting for something to happen? Judging by Andersson's characters, the pigeon at least knows that it is an observer – while people may still be convinced that they are the main actors in their own lives.