Exploring a new perspective in body horror we have Above The Knee. Amir (Freddy Singh) is experiencing Body integrity identity disorder. He looks at his left leg with obsessive repulsion. His secret desire is to have it removed. This poses a number of problems of course, not the least of which is the mental toll that it takes on his everyday life. Relationships become difficult, and work is nearly impossible. Written by Viljar Bøe and star Freddy Singh, and directed by Bøe, we are challenged as we sympathize with someone who wants to harm himself. Above The Knee takes us down the rabbit hole of sound mind, societal perceptions, and consensual self-harm to interesting effect.

With his previous movie, Good Boy, Bøe explored autonomy and objectification in a story about a millionaire who keeps a man in a dog suit as a pet. The enemy was clear in that story, with free will being robbed for another person’s pleasure. Here, we meet Amir, who cannot function because he wants to sever a limb. He keeps his desires secret to everyone but hatches a secret plan to stage an accident.

Amir’s beautiful, compassionate girlfriend Kim (Julie Abrahamsen) knows something is up. She notices his distant stare, his agitation, and she asks him to communicate. He simply shrugs it off as depression and a lack of motivation. It isn’t until Amir meets Rikke (Louise Waage Anda) that he finds a kindred spirit willing to keep his secret. Rikke is a woman who obsesses with being blind. While fully capable of sight, she desires to be blind. She even goes so far as to pose as blind in public. The real question arises; What is at the heart of the desire to remove an ability? Is it a desire for sympathy and attention or is it something more?

Bøe and Singh tell the story from Amir’s point of view, quickly having us side with his unusual desire. It’s certainly an effective tactic that leaves you feeling pretty uneasy. While this works, I found myself hungry for more arguments from the ableist world. While Rikke and Amir argue their side of autonomy, the thriller is weakened by a lack of levity. We are nearly forced to side with Amir’s drive to remove a leg and we are starved a moment to see how his loved ones would process things. We are instead given cutaways of bloody saws and crimson gore as Amir plans his “accident.” We are directed to our immediate disgust via visceral images. It works, but feels like a repetitive cop-out.

I do love the difficult questions that Above The Knee explores under the guise of a thriller. I was also impressed with Singh‘s firey performance as Amir. His melancholy is palpable, with rage seething just below the surface. Bøe does what he does best, keeping things grounded in a very real world while shocking us with the endless terrors and contradictions of the human mind. Above The Knee is a fascinating, compelling, if myopic thriller and another complex entry into Bøe’s body of work.