Force Majeure: The Day Daddy Ran Away — and the World Laughed, Cried, and Awkwardly Looked at the Floor

There are moments in life when you discover what you’re really made of. Some people lift cars off trapped children. Some stay calm in the face of danger. And others, like the dad in Force Majeure, leg it faster than Lewis Hamilton when an avalanche heads for the lunch terrace.

This Swedish film, directed by Ruben Östlund, begins like one of those glossy ski resort adverts, perfect family, perfect snow, perfect jawlines. You half expect a Volvo to glide past in slow motion. But then, boom, a wall of snow tumbles down the mountain, and in that split second, our hero Tomas reveals his true colours: he grabs his phone and sprints off, leaving his wife and kids behind.

Not since the invention of the electric scooter has manhood looked so pathetic.

Of course, the avalanche stops short. Nobody dies. The only thing buried is Tomas’s dignity. But that’s when the real disaster begins. His wife, Ebba, doesn’t let it go, oh no. She picks at the wound like a terrier with a sock, reminding him of his cowardice at every possible moment. Dinner becomes a courtroom. Drinks with friends become interrogations. You can almost hear Tomas’s self-esteem whimpering in Swedish.

And this, ladies and gentlemen, is where Force Majeure becomes something magnificent. It’s not about snow or skiing or marriage counselling. It’s about masculinity melting under pressure. It’s about what happens when the “protector of the family” proves to be about as useful as a chocolate teapot.

You sit there watching, half horrified, half howling with laughter, thinking, “Oh God, that would be me.” Because deep down, we all know, faced with a charging wall of snow, half of us would save the phone too.

The film moves at a glacial pace (pun fully intended), but that’s the genius of it. Östlund lets the tension simmer like a badly timed fart at a wedding. Long silences, awkward breakfasts, the eerie hum of the mountains, it’s all designed to make you squirm.

And then comes the ending. Without spoiling too much, though, frankly, you deserve it for reading this far, there’s another panic on a bus, and this time it’s the wife who saves everyone. The whole family trudges down the mountain, humbled, confused, and probably wondering why they didn’t just book Disneyland.

Force Majeure is a brutal, hilarious reminder that we are all only one moment away from humiliation. It’s a film about pride, instinct, and the ridiculous theatre of gender roles.

Watch it, and you’ll never trust yourself near a buffet or a natural disaster again.

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Verdict:
⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
A comedy of manners wrapped in an avalanche of awkwardness.
Swedish brilliance that’ll make you laugh, cringe, and reconsider your life choices — in that exact order.