First of all, who knew that we still have chimney sweeps in 2024? Luckily, Dick van Dyke has retired and left the task to Jan Gunnar Røise and his boss Thorbjørn Harr. They are back in the staff room having a chat when the latter man explains a dream he had where he had an encounter in a bathroom with David Bowie - and he was a female. No, not quite of the cottaging variety but still ambiguous enough to empower the former man to announce that yesterday, he had had sex with one of their male clients. What makes this hook up the more interesting is that this hitherto straight gent initially declined the offer, but having left the man's house and reconsidered, he decided to return and assume the more passive role in their tryst. Both swear the other to secrecy and that ought to be that, except the next scene sees the sweep trying to explain his activities to his completely befuddled and feeling somewhat betrayed wife (Siri Forberg). Why on earth did he tell her? Did he tell her? Anyway, what now ensues sees the couple - still very much in love - try to sort out how they both feel and will feel about his dalliance and it's implications. Meantime, his boss is also having a bit of a crisis with his masculinity - but one of a more musical nature that puzzles himself, his wife (Birgitte Larsen) and teenage son (Theo Dahl). As these men discuss their situations with each other, amongst their families and with medical professionals we begin to expose what I suspect were the points that auteur Dag Johan Haugerud wanted to draw attention to. Snag is, he does it at such a glacial pace and with such an intensity of dialogue that the degree of concentration required to follow the story is quite hard to sustain and that also illustrates some of the holes in a plot that seemed a little too contrived to get the story on track rather than ring true. The relationship between Røise and Forberg is really only superficially presented and the whole film suffers from an astonishing lack of passion - either positive or negative. The fairly constant introspection is uncomfortable, sure, but is it believable? Would real couples react like this? I wasn't convinced. Dahl does ride to the rescue at times with moments of darkly crafted humour - especially when he is discussing some of the more painful aspects of the female reproductive cycle with a doctor whilst his dad is sitting next to him complaining of a bad back, and there is a refreshing and often contrasting candour from many of the individuals on occasion too - but they just don't really gel in anything like a cohesive enough fashion. This does take an interesting and quite innovative look at issues of sexuality, identity and family and is worth a look - but it was always going to be tough to knit the threads together engagingly and in my view, Haugerud doesn't quite manage it.