Upper
body strength means little in fencing. It is all about the legs. Lunging and
retreating are key to the sport, or as Endel Nelis puts it: “controlling the
distance between you and your opponent.” Those instincts have also served him
well as a fugitive from Stalin’s secret police. He has come to Haapsalu,
Estonia, because the provincial town is the perfect place to lay low. However,
his fencing classes attract dangerous attention in Klaus Härö’s biographical
drama, The Fencer (trailer here), Finland’s
official foreign language Oscar submission, which screens as part of the AFI’s
2015 EU Film Showcase.
The
school principal is the sort of petty apparatchik who resents any form of
talent or accomplishment. Naturally, he takes an instinctive dislike to Nelis,
the new physical education teacher from sophisticated St. Petersburg (or
Leningrad as a Party hack might call it). Nelis has no intention of rocking the
boat or standing out in any way. He is working under an assumed name, hoping to
avoid capture and exile to Siberia. Against his will, Nelis was pressed into
service by the German Army. He managed to avoid combat by deserting into the
forest, but he has still been declared an enemy of the people.
Naturally,
Nelis is required to voluntarily manage an athletic club, but the principal
refuses to allot him any resources. However, when he starts giving fencing
lessons with mere switches cut from trees, many students are intrigued. Of
course, the principal thinks little of this “feudal” sport, but parental
support temporarily ties his hands. While Principal Skinneruu plots against him,
Nelis prepares to take a small team to compete in an all-Soviet open
invitational.
Based
on a real historical figure, The Fencer ought
to be catnip for Oscar voters. Like Mr.
Holland’s Opus with fencing foils, crossed with The Lives of Others, Härö and screenwriter Anna Heinämaa tell the true
story of an initially cold and standoffish teacher, who comes to care about his
students as they deal with some pretty extreme challenges, like the arrest and exile
of family members. It is not a dramatic conversion, but a subtle evolution of
character that Märt Avandi plays with great strength and nuance. He also
develops terrific chemistry with Joonas Koff and Liisa Koppel as his two star
pupils, both of whom have “missing” fathers.
There
are a number of scenes that could have been embarrassingly cheesy and saccharine,
but at each potential pitfall, Härö reins in the film, going for a quietly
stoic Baltic moment instead. As a result, he truly earns the comparatively
sentimental closing. It is also impressive how much attention was given to
proper fencing technique. They really are doing it right.
