The sheer force of the mountain of masculinity cops a scouring in the scathing Swedish film FORCE MAJEURE.

When a controlled avalanche looks like it’s going to wipe out a resort in a tsunami of snow, the father of a family flees leaving the mother to fend for herself and their two children.

When the ice mist settles and it’s apparent that any danger was perceived rather than real, all are relieved that nobody perished, but the pall of abandonment and cowardice pervades the couple’s relationship.

And so a sunny ski holiday turns into a glacial guilt trip, with the playing fields of fidelity now a ruptured ravine.

Johannes Kuhnke plays Thomas with all the wounded pride of a male found at base-camp of bravery and courage when he should have been at the peak.

Lisa Loven Kongsli is his wife, Ebba, trying to navigate the crevasses and fissures that have opened up in the previously forgone solid foundation of their family.

Their children, Vera and Harry, are played by real life siblings, Clara and Vincent Wettergren, both shaken by the permafrost that seems to have set in between their parents.

Thomas’ denial of the event and his insistence of rewriting a substitute scenario prompts Ebba to embarrass her husband into facing up to the matter by bringing it up in front of his oldest male friend, played by Kristopher Hivju. It’s a spectacularly awkward situation, the kind you wish an abyss would appear and you could quickly sink into oblivion.

Written and directed by Ruben Ostlund, FORCE MAJEURE is a controlled avalanche of a film, sweeping away assumptions, burying long standing emotional edifice, and culminating in emotional rescue and recovery operations.

Awesome to look at, FORCE MAJEURE, is just as awesome in it’s narrative, as Ostlund persistently ice picks his way through the psyche of male pride, relentlessly chipping away at the veneer, pricking and swinging .

A jury prize winner in Un Certain Regard at the Cannes Film Festival, FORCE MAJEURE lives up to its name in narrative and visual impact.