Mate, have you seen Passion Play? I caught it last week, and, well, let me spill the beans over a fika. This thing is a wild rollercoaster, like taking the tunnelbana with no real destination in sight but just out for the ride, eh?

First off, we’ve got Mickey Rourke, looking like he’s straight outta a rough night at Södermalm’s pubs. The guy’s got that gritty charm, kind of like when you wear your well-worn jeans in just after a few too many herring dinners. There’s this angelic twist, literally, with Megan Fox sprouting wings of all things. It’s like someone mashed up a Swedish midsummer night’s dream with a Vegas cabaret. While the concept is wild, I reckon it flutters around a bit – like when you’re trying to swat a fly at the kräftskiva and it just won’t sit still.

Now, there’s this saxophonist subplot – reminded me of that time I tried to impress Lena playing sax at the Nordiska Musikgymnasiet. Trust me, it sounded worse than a cat on Valborg, but it had heart! That’s what this film has too, even if it misses some notes.

Some scenes had more jazz flourishes than a Stockholm jazz night. But other parts? They dragged like a rainy Tuesday here – you know what I mean. There’s a noir charm here that tickles your senses and keeps you guessing – was that intentional ambiguity or just sloppy storytelling?

And this film taps into this universal bit – how we all want to fly away sometimes. Who hasn’t dreamt of taking off to escape, eh? There’s a raw, weird beauty to that.

Maybe flick it on a lazy Sunday arvo when you’re feeling nostalgic and in the mood for an odd mix bag of feelings and feathers. Or just to see if your life choices are better than the characters’.

Check it out on YouTube for a little escape from the usual Lagom, yeah?

Check the trailer here: Passion Play