Songs From The Second Floor is more of a sustained mood than a film. There are plotlines worth following and characters to get to know, but they are secondary to Andersson’s mise-en-scene. His absolute creative control shows in every carefully constructed scene; each detail down to the hue of the sun in the background is complementary to the surroundings and action. Andersson’s city looks like any other featureless downtown core, but feels like a dream. Whole streets are devoid of people while others have traffic jams winding into infinity. Hordes of businessmen wander in packs, flagellating themselves as they roam. Others gaze into crystal balls to discern some iota of hope. A salesman tries to rejuvenate his business by selling models of Jesus on the Cross. When his endeavour fails, he stares at the crucifix and asks, “Who could ever hope to profit from a crucified loser?” A group of stockbrokers is so far out of touch with reality that they could swear they are seeing the house across the street move. The owner of a furniture store torches everything to get the insurance money, finding nothing left in his life for which to care. He’ll encounter some ghosts, but by the end it becomes difficult to tell whether the living or the dead are better off.