The Last Viking (Den sidste viking) ★★★1/2
Availability: See end of review.
The Last “Normie”
Danish director and writer Anders Thomas Jensen’s “The Last Viking” joins a short list of important and sensitive films—among them “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest” (1975) and “A Woman Under the Influence” (1974)—that interrogate the relationship between “insanity” or “madness” and the world of so-called “normal” people who don’t have mental problems.
Anker (Nikolaj Lie Kaas) leads his reluctant brother Manfred/John (Mads Mikkelson)
into the woods around their childhood home to look for buried loot.
What they'll uncover is much more than that.
Most of the action takes place in and around an enormous, multi-story, Victorian country house, where Anker (Nikolaj Lie Kaas) and his brother Manfred (Mads Mikkelson) grew up in a troubled household amid Scandinavian artifacts that will come into play. The house is more (and much less) than a comfortable retreat for Anker, who has recently been released from prison after serving 15 years for bank robbery. Anker had entrusted his brother, who was not involved in the theft, to bury the stolen loot in the surrounding forest, only to discover that Manfred developed a mental disorder with suicidal tendencies and, released from an institution, cannot recall (nor wants to) where he put the money. Frustrating Anker further is that Manfred has taken on the identity of John Lennon (dissociative identity disorder is a not uncommon characteristic of those with autism) and, to Anker’s irritation, insists on being called John—to the extent of making suicide attempts each time he isn’t.
Anker's digging is broadly metaphorical, and what’s down there isn’t just a bag of cash.
Anker is obviously the “normal” one, presenting himself as “whole” and telling Manfred he has to get in touch with “reality” and just find the money. It won’t be long before Anker will grab a shovel and begin to crater the forest around the house in desperation. But his digging is broadly metaphorical, and what’s down there isn’t just a bag of cash. He’ll end up uncovering his childhood, an unhappy and emotionally charged past shared with a deeply traumatized Manfred, who remembers what Anker (who has his own secret) does not. Ultimately, it’s Manfred, defined here as living in a fantasy world, who insists on reality, telling Anker (and not vice-versa), “you can control what you are.” Not to say you can.
Like the reunion in “The Big Chill” (1983) and other films that gather bunches of people in one place, the house has ample room for more characters, each with something to add to the film’s central themes. Wife Margrethe (Sofie Gråbøl) and husband Werner (Søren Malling), who now own the house, are among the “normies,” though both labor at constructing satisfying identities that correspond to something like themselves.
In a setting—the old childhood home—designed to bring together a plethora of characters, one of the central acts is a recreation of The Beatles, by people who think they are Paul/George (Kardo Razzazi, seated, playing the guitar), Ringo, who is mute,
on the drums (Peter Düring), and John/Manfred (Mikkelson) at right.
Watching with their backs to the camera are, from left, Anker (Kaas),
Lothar (Las Brygmann), and house co-owner Werner (Søren Malling).
Like Anker, Margrethe thinks she is in control, staking her claim to a stable and worthy self on her self-described exceptional beauty (“you’re out of my league,” she says to Anker), a boast belied by Jensen’s camera and mocked (if sensitively) when she gets her teeth knocked out. Werner’s fantasy identity is that of a successful author, but his success is in the future, not the past, and it comes through serendipity, when Werner comes across Manfred’s childhood drawings and uses them to complete the children’s book that titles the film and makes an argument—community and acceptance depend on equality, even if that means giving everyone the same disability—that never quite meshes with the script’s concerns with identity and sanity.
Manfred’s decision to become John Lennon drives much of the action.
Manfred’s decision to become John Lennon is not only cleverly integrated into the powerful father/son dynamic that underpins the story, but also drives much of the action, which has Lothar (Las Brygmann), introduced as a physician at Manfred’s mental hospital, coming to the house ready to assemble a band that might be known as The Beatles, or as Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band. John is a willing participant, of course, and so is the character Hamden (Kardo Razzazi), who “plays” or “is” Paul/George, a certified weirdo who identifies somewhat too closely with ABBA and, as a German, wants to end the Holocaust. Simplifying things further, Ringo is mute. A band, of course, is the ultimate group experience, of bringing people together, of belonging, all of which these outsiders need and want. When it’s concert time, Werner—also a failed fashion designer—will sew the Sgt. Pepper outfits. It’s all fun and quite serious too, with Lothar, whose identity is complex, acting as the Orchestrator of Fantasy/Therapist, believing—until he doesn’t—that whatever reality we create for ourselves IS reality.
Mikkelson is Manfred/John, at once quiet observer
and manic comic.
The drama depends on two fine, understated performances: Kaas as the restrained, earnest, no-nonsense, straight-man Anker, who for a time believes he’s the only sane person in the bunch; and Mikkelson as Manfred/John, at once quiet observer and manic comic, uncomfortable with the knowledge he possesses (and must share with Anker), child-like wary of the past coming into his present. “I’m hungry….I’m cold.…I don’t want to be here.”
Mikkelson, who was superb in "Riders of Justice" and "Another Round" (both 2020), is an actor any of whose films we’d see.
Jensen, Mikkelson, and Kaas teamed up previously, for another violence-laden black comedy we rated highly, “Riders of Justice” (2020). And Mikkelson, who was superb there and in “Another Round” (also 2020), is an actor any of whose films we’d see. Here the all-Danish cast around Kaas and Mikkelson is uniformly excellent; it won a Danish award for best ensemble.
Jensen’s narrative relies on revelation; the past will become the present. Badly handled, those moments could dominate the film and overshadow its subtleties. That doesn’t happen. While raw and powerful, the revelatory scenes are visually compartmentalized, and the sheer number of other characters of consequence—and other issues—prevents the critical sequences from becoming the only thing that matters.
“The Last Viking” is a carefully crafted piece of work, built from characters one cares about, punctuated with surprise and mystery, and sustained by a script that can be funny and poignant and full of ideas while avoiding excessive sentimentality. If you’re a hobbyist of the Viking longship, you’d best look elsewhere.
He says: There are all kinds of ways in which this film could have gone wrong. It doesn’t. Jensen’s restraint is the key.
She says: You have to tolerate—even enjoy—some stylized violence, though the acts themselves are outside the frame. It’s a little like Wile E. Coyote; almost everyone bounces back. One of the many ways this is a clever film.
Date: 2025
Director: Anders Thomas Jensen
Starring: Mads Mikkelson, Nikolaj Lie Kaas, Kardo Razzazi, Lars Brygmann, Sofie Gråbøl, Søren Malling
Countries: Denmark, Sweden
Language: Danish, with subtitles
Runtime: 116 minutes
Other Awards: 4 wins and 15 other nominations
Availability: No longer showing in theaters. For purchase and rental at major online sites such as Amazon Prime and Apple TV. For full availability, see JustWatch here.
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