The Last Viking review - absurdist thriller with Scandinavia's stars

Convoluted drama takes on Fab Four delusions, brotherly trauma and ultraviolence

share this article

Mads Mikkelsen and Nikolaj Lie Kaas play brothers at odds with each other and the law

If screwball noir is a subgenre (encompassing Something Wild Fargo, The Long  Kiss Goodnight Wild at Heart, After Hours), then Anders Thomas Jensen is its Danish proponent.  The Last Viking is a highwire act in which throwaway comic barbs delivered at a clip are interrupted by brutal violence, ostensibly with the aim of keeping the audience ricocheting between laughs and gasps.  Whether it works here is another question, but it looks like the cast, most of whom have worked with Jensen before and will be familiar to fans of Scandinavian cinema, were having a very good time making the film.

Nikolaj Lie Kaas plays Anker, a bank robber just released from a 15-year stretch. Before he went down, he forced his brother Manfred into burying a suitcase full of loot. Now free, Anker wants to dig it up, but Manfred isn’t the easiest sibling to deal with. Played by Mads Mikkelsen, it’s hard to diagnose what exactly is adrift with Manfred; some of his behaviour (meltdowns and an inability to speak tactfully)  combined with his physical awkwardness indicate that Mikkelsen is playing him as neurodivergent and intellectually disabled.  As a vulnerable adult, he is dependent on his sister Freja (Bodil Jørgensen) for care and support.

We’re invited to laugh at Manfred’s appearance even though it’s hard to make Mikkelsen (pictured below with Nikolaj Lie Kaas), one of the planet’s most beautiful and graceful men, into a convincing geek. When distressed he throws himself abruptly out of windows and car doors with all the physical panache of Buster Keaton. 

Image
The Last Viking

Manfred’s conviction that he is John Lennon and tendency to kidnap the neighbours’ dogs leads to him being sectioned and given a Dissociative Identity Disorder label. Even in the psychiatric hospital,  he still won’t tell Anker where the money is buried. Lothar. (Lars Brygmann), a maverick psychiatrist argues that going along with Manfred’s delusion and reuniting him with the other Beatles will bring him back to reality. Lothar persuades Anker to put a band together from similarly deluded patients, all sprung from hospitals in Sweden as well as Denmark. Handily, one patient alternates between being McCartney and Harrison and is played by the genuinely musically talented Kardo Razzazi. 

The cash is buried somewhere near the brothers’ childhood home deep in the woods. Conveniently, the house is now owned by a couple who run it as a B&B and host the motley crew. Sophie Grabol plays Margarethe, bitter about her lost career and convinced of her own beauty, she spends her time bickering with her husband, a disfigured fashion designer.  He  comes in handy when it comes to running up Sgt Pepper costumes. While the deluded Beatles rehearse for a local talent show, Anker struggles with his impatience with his brother and his own demons. He’s prone to extremely violent outbursts that have attracted the attention of the police. Worse still his former partner-in-crime Flemming (Nicolas Bro) is on his trail, wanting his share of the loot and happy to torture Freja to find Anker. 

Andersen has probably packed in too many characters and plot twists for his film to altogether gel; it’s certainly not short of narrative flourishes alongside the screwball one-liners and ultra-violence. The film is book-ended by an animation that tells the children's story of a Viking who loses his arm, and functions as an allegory. Also thrown into the mix are lengthy flashbacks to the brothers' traumatic childhood with a sadistic father that goes some way to explain their difficulties in adulthood.

 A huge hit in Denmark, The Last Viking may do well with British audiences who enjoy the films of Lars von Trier, Aki Kaurismaki and Nicolas Winding Refn. But Andersen's tendency to mock psychiatric patients and the intellectually disabled, along with the whiff of misogyny in his portrayal and treatment of the two female characters may make this not an easy thrill ride for all.

Add comment

The content of this field is kept private and will not be shown publicly.
Name that you would like to appear as the author of the comment
It’s not short of narrative flourishes alongside the screwball one-liners and ultraviolence

rating

3

explore topics

share this article

the future of arts journalism

You can stop theartsdesk.com closing! 

We urgently need financing to survive. Our fundraising drive has thus far raised £33,000 but we need to reach £100,000 or we will be forced to close. Please contribute here: https://gofund.me/c3f6033d

And if you can forward this information to anyone who might assist, we’d be grateful.

Subscribe to theartsdesk.com

Thank you for continuing to read our work on theartsdesk.com. For unlimited access to every article in its entirety, including our archive of more than 15,000 pieces, we're asking for £5 per month or £40 per year. We feel it's a very good deal, and hope you do too.

To take a subscription now simply click here.

And if you're looking for that extra gift for a friend or family member, why not treat them to a theartsdesk.com gift subscription?

more film

Superman's party girl cousin earns her stripes underwhelmingly
Convoluted drama takes on Fab Four delusions, brotherly trauma and ultraviolence
Sophy Romvari's atmospheric first feature looks back at a tortured family dynamic
The evergreen animation franchise in a below-par new romp
Revived for Monroe's centenary, Billy Wilder's classic reminds us how great film can be
A visually pleasing film with a somewhat patchy plot
Tragedy and joy in Chloé Zhao's speculative Shakespeare drama
Emily Blunt helps a peculiar alien encounter eventually touch profundity
The Brat star convinces in a freewheeling, nouvelle vague-ish Polish excursion
Fictionalised account of Keith Jarrett’s iconic concert feels as improvised as its subject
Life-enhancing vintage entertainment, for children of all ages
When Lucian Freud and Kate Moss brushed up against each other