The opening day of the Gothenburg Film Festival ignited a heated debate about cultural policy in Sweden. The absence of Culture Minister Parisa Liljestrand from the customary film policy summit, a traditional start to the festival, was the first spark. Instead, Liljestrand chose to visit streaming giant Netflix in Stockholm before arriving in Gothenburg later in the evening to deliver a partially booed opening speech. Her address was widely interpreted as a critique of Swedish film, suggesting it lacked commercial viability, should shoulder a greater share of its own costs, and was making flawed financial decisions. This speech ignited significant media backlash throughout the festival’s opening weekend, setting the stage for a contentious discussion about the value and funding of Swedish cinema.
Adding fuel to the fire, the satirical television series ”På armlängds avstånd” (At Arm’s Length), which premiered at the festival, mirrored the real-life drama. The series, set in a dystopian near future where cultural institutions have been dismantled and only commercially driven art survives, depicts a resistance meeting of desperate cultural practitioners waiting for a minister who never arrives. This fictional scenario, echoing the minister’s real-life absence, highlighted the escalating tension between artists and the government regarding cultural funding and priorities. The series served as a poignant commentary on the perceived threat to artistic freedom and the increasing pressure on artists to prioritize commercial success.
Tuva Novotny, star and co-director of the series, remarked on the uncanny parallels between fiction and reality: “What happened yesterday fit very well into what we have done. Sometimes, reality surpasses fiction. What we joked about in the series suddenly becomes completely relevant.” The series’ pointed satire, juxtaposed with the minister’s actions and speech, amplified the unease within the artistic community. Novotny characterized her role in the series, a rigid film and television producer navigating a hyper-commercialized media landscape, as a ”survivor paddling for life with blinders on,” a metaphor for the precarious position of artists struggling to maintain their integrity amidst commercial pressures.
Director Jimmy Olsson, known for his mockumentary work, compared the series to ”The Simpsons,” suggesting it had a prescient quality, anticipating the current cultural policy debate. He expressed excitement at the audience’s vocal disapproval of the minister’s speech, noting its uncharacteristic nature in Sweden. Olsson’s series satirizes a future where cultural icons like Pippi Longstocking and Karlsson on the Roof are relics of a bygone era, replaced by reality shows like ”Migrants Got Talent” and AI-enhanced historical dramas. The series features a cast of established Swedish actors, including Marie Göranzon and Bob Hansson, playing fictionalized versions of themselves, struggling to survive in this commercially driven cultural wasteland.
The series was written and filmed quickly in the fall, making its timely premiere at the festival even more striking. Screenwriter Theodor Österberg described the experience of arriving in Gothenburg with the series as ”surreal,” given the immediate and intense reaction to the culture minister’s speech. Remarkably, Österberg revealed that SVT, the public broadcaster airing the series, imposed few restrictions on the content, despite its pointed political satire. He noted that the network described the series as a live-action version of ”Herr Talman,” a popular satirical radio program. The writers anticipated more interference, especially regarding depictions of specific brands and companies, but were pleasantly surprised by the relative creative freedom afforded by SVT.
One of the most provocative characters in ”På armlängds avstånd” is a thinly veiled caricature of a far-right, motorcycle-gang-affiliated film consultant at a future version of the Swedish Film Institute, played by Magnus Krepper. Ironically, Krepper also appears in the festival’s official introductory film, playing a dictatorial figure who condemns artists as “dangerous traitors” and “disobedient dogs hiding behind what they call artistic freedom.” This coincidental casting further blurred the lines between fiction and reality, amplifying the series’ message and adding to the charged atmosphere surrounding the cultural policy debate. The series aims to spark discussion and division rather than consensus, ultimately questioning the value placed on art and the implications of prioritizing commercial viability over artistic merit. Novotny hopes the series will ignite a more meaningful conversation about film financing in Sweden and its significance for taxpayers, moving beyond polarized rhetoric and superficial sound bites. She echoes Gothenburg Film Festival artistic director Pia Lundberg’s sentiment that freedom of expression is a precious right that should be utilized, especially in a world where such freedoms are increasingly under threat.
