The Last Viking
Despite what its title hints at, Anders Thomas Jensen’s The Last Viking (Den Sidste Viking) is no grand historical epic. It’s a darkly eccentric comedy set in modern-day Denmark, following Anker (Nikolaj Lie Kaas), a career criminal newly released from prison, on a desperate hunt for the hidden proceeds of a bank robbery committed 15 years earlier that only his brother Manfred (Mads Mikkelsen) may know the whereabouts of. The catch? Manfred suffers from dissociative identity disorder and, in his dominant persona, is utterly convinced he is John Lennon.
It’s a premise that teeters between tragedy and farce, and Jensen leans heavily into the absurd. After a night of blackout drinking, Anker falls under the influence of the delightfully unhinged Lothar (Lars Brygmann), who persuades him that the key to unlocking Manfred’s buried memories is to form a Beatles tribute band with a ragtag gathering of psychiatric patients who each believe themselves to be Paul, George and Ringo. The heart of the story unfolds at the brothers’ childhood home, a looming gothic dwelling hidden deep in the forest, now transformed into an Airbnb. Here they’re hosted by Werner (Søren Malling), a disfigured fashion designer with literary pretensions, and Margarethe (Sofia Gråbøl), a former hand model who moonlights as a boxing enthusiast. Their strange domestic routines and clipped exchanges add a distinctively Wes Anderson-ish style of whimsy to the otherwise shadowy, foreboding setting. Convinced that the missing fortune is buried somewhere in the surrounding woods, Anker sets about excavating the land with manic fervour, leaving dozens of gaping holes as though the forest itself is sinking into his fixation.
The titular Nordic element arrives in the form of a fable threaded through the film – intended as a mythic counterpoint to the brothers’ own struggles. But the allegory never quite takes hold. Where Jensen strives for resonance, the viking tale instead feels bolted on, a flourish that underlines the film’s whimsical tone without deepening its themes.
Still, The Last Viking is propelled by committed performances. Mikkelsen’s Manfred impression oscillates between moving and ludicrous, while Kaas grounds the madness with exasperation and deadpan weariness. It’s a strange, often funny film, but one that never quite digs up the thematic treasure it’s looking for.
Christina Yang
The Last Viking does not have a release date yet.
Read more reviews from our Venice Film Festival coverage here.
For further information about the event visit the Venice Film Festival website here.
Facebook
Twitter
Instagram
YouTube
RSS