Growing up is difficult, especially if you are a lonely and eccentric misfit. It can be even worse if you are faced with alopecia areata, a common disease that results in the loss of hair on the scalp. Such are the circumstances that are brought into play in this Norwegian film (which was Norway’s Oscar candidate for Best Foreign Film last year) that captures the traumatic coming-of-age of an 11-year-old boy named Herman (Lie) with a skillful mixture of humor and poignancy. Newsreel footage of the simple, happy life of 1950s Norwegian society draws the viewer into the cozy working-class existence that Herman shares with his mother (Sand) — a grocery store clerk — and father (Floberg) — a crane operator. Although Herman loves his parents, being an only child isn’t easy, for always being the focus of their attention makes him uncomfortable at times. School life, as well, is no piece of cake: he is either constantly bullied or ignored by teachers, and his classmates reject and taunt him. But Herman finds solitary comfort in creating his own reality through speaking of himself in the third person, pretending to sleepwalk through town, and dreaming of his idol, Zorro. He also escapes into the tall tales that his bedridden grandfather (Robert) and drunken neighbor (Kulle) weave about Egypt, Turkey, and the Belgian royal family. Everything changes for the worse, however, when during a visit to the barber (Steen), affectionately known as Fatso the Barber, a small bald patch is discovered at the top of Herman’s head. Doctor’s appointments and tests swiftly follow, and soon Herman and his parents are informed that he has alopecia areata, which will eventually cause him to lose all of his hair. Faced with a losing battle that makes him feel even less capable of handling his own life than he felt before, Herman realizes that he must now struggle with his dilemma on his own. Although some comparisons can be made with the Swedish coming-of-age comedy/drama My Life As a Dog, Gustavson’s film stands on its own merits as a good, memorable work that is touching without resorting to the maudlin, and funny without using predictable childhood high jinks. Rounding out the film are richly drawn characters molded from credible performances, and detailed art direction and set design that realistically capture the time and place without a hint of phoniness. A story for anyone who has had a tough time growing up, and for those who didn’t.
This article appears in July 2 • 1993 (Cover).
