Review
THE PLAY. It confronts the viewer with political correctness
If Ruben Östlund’s The Play had been made in the USA, it would either have failed to pass the censors or faced harsh criticism from the media.
If Ruben Östlund’s The Play had been made in the USA, it would either have failed to pass the censors or faced harsh criticism from the media. It is not surprising that the film did not find an American distributor, and its only official reviews in the United States appeared after a screening at the New York film festival. Of course, given the peculiarities of the American market, similar conclusions can be drawn for many European titles. The Play, however, is an almost perfect example because it confronts the viewer in a striking way with what is sacred to American producers—political correctness.
At a time when even Scandinavian gods are portrayed as Black in the name of inclusivity (after all, ethnic quotas must be respected), Östlund presents a story in which the perpetrators belong to a specific national minority.

Using the dynamics of the cat-and-mouse relationship between oppressor and victim, the Swede skillfully addresses issues not only related to minorities but also to the law’s often incomprehensible helplessness in the face of an ethnically evolving society. The film’s framework inevitably recalls the works of Michael Haneke. We find ourselves in a clean, brightly lit shopping mall, where well-known brands are easy to recognize. Two boys are searched due to the disappearance of five hundred Swedish kronor.
From a distance, a group of five Black children, seemingly aged ten to fifteen, observes them. Shortly afterward, the young Swedes, in addition to losing their money, must also come to terms with the loss of a mobile phone. The next victims are a trio consisting of two Swedes and a teenager of Asian descent. In their case, however, the situation becomes more complicated. The group of Black perpetrators decides to subject them to the eponymous “play” (it is worth noting that Östlund likely drew inspiration from the film Funny Games, which also includes the word “game” in its title).

The crime, for reasons left unexplained, cannot occur here and now. The trio of victims is forced, against their will and without knowing what awaits around the corner, to follow their oppressors and obey their commands. Despite similar structural premises, The Play does not move in the same direction as Haneke’s shocking vision (violence is important for Östlund, but not paramount). What both films share is a particular suspension, in which the victims cannot predict the next move of their tormentors. The unbearable nature of such a situation is best illustrated in the scene where one boy climbs a tree and shouts that he will not come down until he learns what the Black boys plan to do with the three kidnapped children.
As mentioned earlier, Östlund uses this situation to pose questions about national minorities. It is not just that the “bad guys” are Black boys for most of the film. The issue is more nuanced, as we must remember that among the trio of victims is an Asian boy, the Native American minority is depicted in a decidedly positive (though slightly eccentric) light, and every act of aggression—no matter how justified—directed toward an ethnic minority is perceived as extreme intolerance.

Östlund boldly asks whether the inability of certain ethnic groups to assimilate is merely an excuse that works because of the country’s legal impotence. He illustrates the impotence of the law through short scenes involving the mishaps of a child’s cradle. The object ends up on a train, but its owner cannot be found. It is too large to stand in the aisle between seats or on the platforms connecting the cars—safety regulations. Disposing of it is also problematic—it is someone’s property, after all. The train staff cannot resolve the situation because it is not covered in any code. The officials’ helplessness is comical, though in the context of the film’s final scenes it prompts serious reflection.
So what does Östlund do? He is certainly far from simple moralizing that would allow him to say: “Asians are fine, Black kids are criminals, and Peruvian street musicians are quite nice.” Thanks to an excellently written script and masterful direction of the young actors, The Play tackles a difficult subject and presents bold, yet subconsciously acknowledged, statements about the problem of national minorities. It is not easy or comfortable cinema, but it is intelligent and thought-provoking, prompting reflection on who is truly the Other, the Stranger, and who needs help finding their place in a new system.
