No Comment

“No comment” is usually the safest response when the press starts pressing for answers to uncomfortable questions. But, while it is the safest, it certainly is not the best, since the best it can do is to delay a problem for a relatively short period of time. And in dirty business that demands quick wits, such as politics, time and timeliness are of the essence.

Petter Næss’ newest feature takes the phrase for its title and is ultimately as safe and as effective as the phrase itself. Basically, it is a comedy with a dash of a political drama and satire that tries to emulate the greatness of Barry Levinson’s Wag The Dog (1997) and the sense of urgency of Armando Iannucci’s In The Loop (2009), while still appearing friendly for the widest audiences. Working from a snappy, but ultimately superficial script by Ståle Stein Berg, the best Næss can hope for is a decent to solid movie.

Alma Solvik (Laila Goody) is a beloved Norwegian prime minister running for her new mandate. It seems that she runs a tight ship in her government cabinet, in her party and at home as well, since her husband, stock broker Sondre (Andres Baasmo) is best known for writing a book about her. With only days until the elections, it seems that the polls favour her as well, but not strongly enough for her to claim victory in advance.

Then the scandal ensues. Allegedly, Sondre used information from his wife to turn some profit at his job. Although inside trading is not classified as crime in Norway – and, for that matter, most of the continental Europe, as the stock markets are not running the show as much as in the “Anglosphere” – it is still considered unethical. The opposition smells blood and crisis management is much needed. Realising that she cannot simply rely on the members of her cabinet and her party’s majority in parliament, Alma urges her second-in-command Levi (Ingar Helge Gimle) to agree to including one particular person in the team with whom the party has a troublesome history.

Enter Karianne (Pia Tjelta), the ace spin doctor and Alma’s college friend. Her first decision for the campaign is to deflect the public attention and the blame towards Sondre who also arms up with a team of bros who try to re-invent his public image, while living in the same house – actually the prime minister’s residency – with his wife. Karianne’s work must not be visible by the public, even her presence must not be noticed, and some of the team members are far less enthusiastic to have her pulling strings from behind. Politics is dirty everywhere, but can be especially slippery in a society that values honesty and transparency.

Coming with a reputation of being a versatile and dependable helmer, Næss tries to play a game for several different crowds in a single movie. The filmmaker wants it to be understandable universally, coloured locally, to fare well in cinemas, to be safe for TV and to be bookable on the festival circuit (its first international berth there is at Tallinn Film Festival). The thing is, it cannot do all of that at once without some heavy sacrifices since the idea behind it is far from new and equally far from original. Up to a point, Næss succeeds in his intentions, but new obstacles keep popping up.

Certainly, there is flare in the opening act that effectively portrays the context of the Scandinavian way of life that favours modesty and simplicity, so the residence is just one of the better houses in Oslo, but it is not that flashy and is surrounded by the regular, slightly upscale residential area. In context presented that way, the fact that the character of Alma seems modelled after an internationally recognisable actor on the global scene – former German chancellor Angela Merkel – serves the purpose of making the film appear more universal. One more success is the snake-like charm written into Karianne’s character and the level of the manipulation skills she expresses. The end result of that is meaty performances and good chemistry, especially between two leading ladies.

One might say that refraining from mentioning the actors on the actual Norwegian political scene is a cop-out move, but “colour-coding” the parties without naming them actually works both ways, as a move towards universality and as a direct allusion to the existing parties which might harbour even greater levels of corruption. The trouble is that the whole thing is not exactly new for a viewer who has a clue or two about politics, not just in Norway and Scandinavia, but in Europe and in general, and for the viewer who has seen more than a few political thrillers or satires.

Simply, the comedy never really works, whether it is the constant use of music in various genre registers – from girlie power-pop, via sleazy rock to blasting rap – for various characters and their natural “habitats”, or the attempts at gags and some attempts at verbal cheekiness that simply fall flat. For it to work, the script must be much sharper in dialogue and much more provocative in attitude, but that way the film would not be a decent, safe bet for everyone, regardless of the position the viewer comes from. In the end, No Comment plays out like an Armando Iannucci satire adapted for the national broadcaster hoping for a prime time slot.

Reviewed on: 20 Nov 2025