Review by Benjamin Poole
Directed by: Anders Thomas Jensen
Starring: Mads Mikkelsen, Nikolaj Lie Kaas, Sofie Gråbøl, Bodil Jørgensen, Lars Brygmann, Nicolas Bro
If I asked, I bet you could tell me your favourite Japanese horror film. It's on the tip of your tongue, as is your most favoured French New Wave film, and, if pushed, your top five Scandinavian dramas. Top foreign comedy, though? Not so straightforward I reckon. I've just Googled highest grossing international comedy and the world's biggest search engine simply refused to look, and instead stubbornly gave me outcomes for "international film." "Did you mean: highest grossing international movies?," No Google, I did not, but with persistence the results showed me films like Hi Mom (2021) and Detective Chinatown (also 2021 - the Year of the Ox and much hilarity, it seems), Chinese films which rinsed the domestic box office yet didn't travel and therefore don't count for this ersatz thesis. "Humour is not universal; it is culture‑bound," argued Christie Davies, British sociologist and scholar of humour, positing that what one country finds funny (Mrs Brown's Boys, say) leaves the rest of the globe cold. Built around social norms, shared cultural references and assumptions, comedy is the least exportable of genres.
I was considering this during The Last Viking (Den Sidste Viking) from veteran Danish filmmaker Anders Thomas Jensen, a knockabout crime-com based around dissociative personality disorder. We open in the aftermath of a robbery, with tough guy Anker (Nikolaj Lie Kaas - Scandi Dominic West), in the moments before the politiet descend, entrusting his spectrum coded brother with the whereabouts of his hidden bag of ill-gotten kroner. Mads Mikkelsen, one of the most beautiful men on planet Earth, plays kinsman Manfred, who, in the intervening 15 years of Anker's incarceration, has hidden the loot somewhere within the land of the brothers' familial country homestead, and also gone off the deep end in terms of psychosis. And if such phrasing seems slightly flippant, then it's in keeping with The Last Viking's initial approach to Manfred's condition: played broadly, he is prone to violent outbursts, has the permed hair of a local radio DJ and has a habit of kidnapping dogs. The last aspect is particularly illustrative, as, to all intents and purposes, The Last Viking is a shaggy dog story.
It transpires that Manfred has also developed dissociative identity disorder and recognises himself only as John Lennon (Beatle). Anyone referring to him as anything but John results in Manfred/John fiercely self-harming, often by throwing himself out of the nearest fenestrate, such as a window or a car door (this is pretty funny in its suddenness, and convincing stunt work). Manfred is sectioned by a doctor who argues that "everyone is entitled to their own unique reality" (I was a bit wary that the narrative would be some sort of trans satire - you know, like those twats who say, "what, can I identify as a... helicopter now then?!," but The Last Viking is a much more sympathetic and thoughtful film than that), establishing the film's theme of confinement, both physically and spiritually.
After a hospital break out, the two brothers embark on a picaresque to find the hidden cash, pursued by the cops, Anker's sadistic partner in crime, and Manfred's well-meaning doctor who is convinced that recreating The Beatles' psychedelic and experimental era is the key to aiding his patient...
The caper takes them to their old house, which is now an Airbnb owned by odd couple Margrethe and Werner. The former is played by Sofie Gråbøl, one of the most beautiful women on planet Earth, and there is pleasingly much humour based around her deeply pulchritudinous presence. In her first scene she is exercising hard by beating the lort out of a heavy bag: I almost screamed. She is an ex-model, while Werner (Søren Malling) is a failed children's author who is facially scarred by burns from a lighter/air bag mishap. Manfred bluntly asks why someone so good looking as her is with him...
It's tricky to know what is supposed to be funny in The Last Viking, as, during their stay at the house, flashbacks inform us that the nominal reason for the psychological state of the brothers is childhood trauma, the depiction of which is truly unpleasant (due to the imperial and affecting filmmaking on display). There is also recurrent violence against women, and you get the creeping sensation that some of this is played for laughs (especially the punchline to Margrethe's arc). Either way, these harrowing features rest uneasily against the bigger comedy moments, such as those featuring the pseudo-band put together by the therapist (one member sometimes switches into the persona of Björn Ulvaeus, resulting in the beat combo doing ABBA songs...). "Everyone wants to be someone else," a character solemnly intones, which is an ironic assertion for a film which seems to be torn between sweet humour and nasty brutality. If you are possessed of the famed Danish sense of humour, add another star.
The Last Viking is in UK/ROI cinemas from June 26th.
