Morten Tyldum’s Headhunters is a brisk, viciously funny thriller, held together by an anxious, resourceful performance from Aksel Hennie. The plotting grows too pleased with itself, but the pursuit earns our attention long before the explanations arrive.
Morten Tyldum makes a thoroughly entertaining thriller out of a man who is difficult to like. In Headhunters, Roger Brown’s vanity matters as much as the danger pursuing him, and the comedy depends on taking both seriously. The film is cruel, quick and occasionally over-arranged, with enough feeling in its central performance to keep the cruelty from becoming tiresome. At 100 minutes, it also knows how long this sort of pressure can usefully be sustained.
Aksel Hennie gives Roger enough anxiety to make his concern with status understandable, even when it makes him objectionable. His mortification is funny because he keeps trying to preserve the seriousness with which he regards himself, despite increasingly persuasive reasons to abandon it. We laughed at Roger’s humiliation, then felt slightly cruel: the panic that Aksel Hennie conveys is too convincing to dismiss. His distress keeps us interested even when Roger’s conduct gives us little reason to be generous.
The screenplay by Lars Gudmestad and Ulf Rydberg, adapted from Jo Nesbø’s novel, gives that performance a demanding succession of problems. Information that initially seems incidental is made to matter, which lets the surprises feel prepared even when the situations become extravagant. Roger’s failings keep the story moving, and our interest survives stretches in which sensible conduct is in short supply. The demands on belief accumulate, but the film usually supplies another immediate problem before we can start examining the previous one.
John Andreas Andersen’s polished cinematography suits a character so invested in how things look, while keeping the pursuit sufficiently clear to follow. That clarity matters when the dangers begin arriving faster and the comedy depends on our understanding just how badly things are going. Nina Bjerch Andresen’s production design gives Roger’s attachment to wealth a useful visual basis, making his concern with appearances feel habitual. The finish serves the character without demanding that we pause to admire it.
Vidar Flataukan’s editing keeps the action readable as its demands become increasingly unreasonable. There is room for the embarrassment to register before the next danger takes over, and that timing helps prevent the chase from becoming numbing. Jeppe Kaas’s contribution to the score supports the tension efficiently, though the music has less personality than the central performance. Morten Tyldum generally lets a predicament become uncomfortable enough to earn its laugh before sending Roger towards another one.
The weakness is the script’s insistence on accounting for itself. As the explanations accumulate, there are passages when we feel the writers making sure every connection has been understood, and the pace briefly suffers. Some of the plotting is implausible enough that this extra attention does it no favours. The film has already persuaded us to accept considerable exaggeration, so the effort spent explaining the machinery feels unnecessary, particularly when it takes time away from the actors.
Among chase thrillers, Headhunters distinguishes itself through the embarrassing business of being Roger Brown. The physical danger works because Aksel Hennie gives us reasons to care about a man we might otherwise be happy to avoid. There is nothing especially unusual about putting a flawed protagonist under pressure, but the performance makes each further indignity matter, and the direction keeps the threat sufficiently serious. Accept a little contrivance, and settle in for an agreeably uncomfortable evening.
