Despair. Madness. Fear. Panic.

These are the feelings that would surface if I were in a similar situation. This story is the kind of thing you read about in the news when workers become trapped underground, with their workplace becoming their tomb. I ask myself: how horrible can the situation become for these people? The answer: pretty damn horrible.

It is quite difficult to know what people actually think, how they will react to certain situations and dangers and what degree of help they will be to others. In this case, it may start off as documentary, but it goes deeper than that (if you'll excuse the pun). And psychology will kick off at some point. Now if you are not impatient (which overall would not help while watching this movie, never mind being in the situation the characters find themselves in), you will find a very tension filled drama.

Our main character is more or less the viewer. Well the common viewer who may not have been underground and asks questions that some of the workers may not understand. If you are claustrophobic though, you may want to stay away from this. It can be quite upsetting ...

In the opening scene of Cutterhead, as protagonist Rie rides a construction site elevator deep into the Danish underground, we glimpse the elevator's control panel and its "up" and "down" buttons that some joker has labeled "Heaven" and "Hell" in felt pen, setting the stage for the claustrophobic horror that's to come.

As a copywriter for the Copenhagen metro, she's there to write the kind of breezy PR texts that might excitedly describe the metro as "the largest construction project in the Danish capital in 400 years", and frame having workers of 24 different nationalities as a "great European coming together" (rather than the result of working conditions and pay that no Danish construction worker would accept). Her interviewees aren't playing along, though. "What's the best part of your job?" she asks every worker she approaches, but most give polite non-answers (clearly trying to avoid trouble), if they even speak English. Only Ivo, who's from Croatia and maintains the cutterhead, doesn't hesitate. "The money," he answers, dispelling any romantic notions of a labor of love.

These workers are all here, working a bad job with bad pay and bad working conditions, because they need the money. But why is Rie here? The question lingers throughout the movie. When one character questions if she's even allowed, Ivo explains "She's from the office". In other words, she's Danish. "I have permission to go anywhere", Rie helpfully adds.

Ivo and his colleague Bharan work the cutterhead because it's more dangerous, and hence pays more. Even then, Rie undoubtedly earns more than either of them. The disaster that soon engulfs these three people should erase these differences, but the sense of disparity persists, and it's in these clashes between worlds that Cutterhead becomes more than a disaster movie with a novel setting, and shows real bite with its social critique.