For exquiste dourness I recommend Finnish films. Typical scene:
We are in a small, remote cottage that has not been cleaned
for years. Three unshaven men in thick fleece jackets or snow
scooter overalls sit at the kitchen table, drinking coffe. Their
grip on the coffee mugs is stronger than necessary. Much stronger.
White-knuckle. An old-fashioned clock ticks. Meaningful glances
are exchanged. Raw emotion is displayed by a narrowing of eyes,
the twitching of a cheek muscle or a sudden change of the
position of feet. The clock ticks.
This goes on for a long time. Then some dirty glasses and a
bottle of vodka are produced. The clinking of glasses and the
gurgling sound of vodka being poured is violently enhanced on the
soundtrack. They drink. The clock ticks. This goes on for an even
longer time. Finally one of the men rises from the table, puts on
huge boots and shoulders the hunting rifle. "It is time",
he says as he goes out the door. The other two nod and exchange
meaningful glances. The clock ticks.
The camera swings to the window. We see a lake. Not a big lake
or a spectacular lake. Just an ordinary, frozen Finnish lake. We
don't see any house, but there must be one because a thin sliver
of smoke rises towards the pale, ice-blue sky. The man with the
rifle walks in the direction of the smoke. The clock ticks.
The man disappears. After a while a shot is heard. One of the
men in the cottage crushes the coffee mug he holds in his hand.
The hand bleeds. The man doesn't notice or doesn't care. The man
with the rifle reappears. As he comes closer we see traces of
emotion on his face. He looks relieved, yet sad; proud, yet
resigned as if touched by fate. He enters the cottage, stamps his
feet, hangs up the rifle, brushes some snow from his fleece
jacket and sits down, both hands flat on the table, body erect.
"It is done", he says.
One of the men prepares more coffee on the paraffin stove. The
implements look very small in his big hands. The hands shake
uncontrollably. The other man forces his mouth open revealing a
set of rotten teeth. "It is over then?", he says. The
man with the rifle, eyes gazing into infinity, smiles a sad
little smile. "Yes, brother", he says, "everything
is over now".
The clock ticks. The credits start to roll.
