I went to see the film ‘3 Miles North of Molkom‘ on Saturday night. It’s a documentary about the No Mind festival in rural Sweden where various loonies and hippies get together for chanting, throat singing, shamanistic ‘de-amouring’, skinny dipping, fire walking, trying desperately to get laid and tree hugging (literally). And it was brilliant, a bit like an extended episode of Brass Eye but for real. You know you’re in for something special when you’re watching people say things like “I’m so sorry to be late for the sharing circle, but I was singing at a lesbian wedding ceremony.”
The filmmakers had the luck to stumble upon a lone Australian rugby coach who had ended up there by mistake while holidaying in Europe, and his attitude over the course of the film pretty much mirrors what most sane people will experience while watching it: baffled, amused and disgusted in equal measure at first, he’s surprised to find himself growing to like some of the other people he’s been grouped together with, and he even enjoys a few of the less ridiculous activities. That’s not to say that the most self-indulgent hippieness becomes any less preposterous though, don’t worry. By the end of the film we get to see a man walking around covered from head to toe in blue paint, except for his penis which is bright yellow, plus the world’s most amazingly cack-handed, half-baked and disastrous version of chi gung (taught by a man who looks like Eric Roberts a.k.a. the ugly male Julia Roberts).
Well worth seeing, although here in London it only seems to be on in a tiny 25-seat screen at the Empire in Leicester Square which is a bit like a sensory deprivation chamber - I highly recommend you don’t try sitting in the front row or you eyes will be screwed by the end. Holla.
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