It
was a bloody year. While Americans were killing each other at the Battles of
Atlanta and the Wilderness, Denmark sent out its army to be slaughtered by the
Germans. It seems like inconceivable hubris in hindsight, but the tiny
Scandinavian country expected to win in short order. Instead, their crushing
defeat sent them reeling into modernity, at least according to Ole Bornedal’s
epic Danish miniseries 1864 (trailer here), which releases
today on MHz Choice.
Although
Bornedal is best known for genre films like Nightwatch
and Just Another Love Story, he
has already had a go at historical dramas with I am Dina. However, 1864 is
much greater in scope and touched on still sensitive Danish national nerves.
Conceived and filmed as a straight-shot eight-hour feature, it was broken up
into hourly installments by Danish TV. As is usually true of sweeping
historicals, both the poor and the privileged are represented, but in this
case, some of them knew each other before the fateful war.
The
reason Denmark was so confident at the start of the Second Schleswig War was
because they had won the first one in 1851 so handily. Like many of his
comrades, tenant farmer Thøger Jensen made it home to his wife Karen and young
sons Laust and Peter, but his infected war wounds are an ominous site. The
landed Baron’s only son Didrich also returns damaged from the war, but it his
case, the stress and shame of his cowardly conduct (papered over by his father’s
bribes) have corroded his soul. The Jensen brothers become a target for
bullying, especially when they befriend Inge Juel, the new estate manager’s
twelve-year-old daughter, whom Didrich creepily fancies as well.
In
the early 1860’s liberal reformist Prime Minister Ditlev Gothard Monrad is
openly campaigning for war, stoking nationalist fervor over the Schlewig
question. As the matter then stood, the German-speaking enclave maintained a
degree of autonomy as a Grand Duchy within the Danish state. For Monrad and the
National Liberals, anything less than full Danish integration was unthinkable. However,
Otto von Bismarck had learned from all the flukes and mistakes that led to
Germany’s 1851 defeat, which would be quite unfortunate for new recruits like
the Brothers Jensen. Even worse, they find themselves serving under the contemptible
Didrich, who is recalled to duty at the rank of captain.
They
will find at least two comrades who have a knack for keeping their men alive:
the valiant Second Lieutenant Wilhelm Dinesen (real life father of Karen
Blixen) and the leathery veteran corporal Johan Larsen. They both also take
comfort from corresponding with Juel, but Peter is unaware Laust violated their
unspoken gentleman’s agreement by sleeping with her. All of this family drama
and national angst unfolds as a punkish teen working for a meals-on-wheels
agency reads Inge’s handwritten memoir to her aged grandson.
The
deeper you plow into Bornedal’s decade-spanning saga, the more it starts to
click. Frankly, if half the scenes of the bratty young Jensen Brothers in
short-pants had been cut, it would not have hampered plot or character
development to any appreciable extent. The contemporary wrap-around segments
are also quite contrived and unnecessary. However, the battle sequences are impressively
mounted and the political intrigues are thoughtfully realized, thanks to Bornedal’s
use of the nonfiction books of historian and series-advisor Tom Buk-Swienty as
a blue-print. If you enjoy negotiating table drama, his screenplay does a nice job of integrating a good
deal of Danish into the narrative without it feeling exposition-y. This might
be Denmark in the mid-1860s, but it is clear how dangerous it is to relinquish
control of military strategy to politicians and the press.
Pilou
Asbæk (A Hijacking, Game of Thrones)
might be the most recognizable cast-member, who really goes all in, wallowing
in self-loathing misanthropy as the increasingly pathetic Didrich. Jakob
Oftebro looks the part of the more dashing Laust Jensen, but Jens Sætter-Lassen
gets the better speeches as Brother Peter, carrying them off quite well.
However, the real star is the witheringly intense Søren Malling as the battle-hardened,
but compassionate Larsen and the real discovery is Johannes Lassen as the fiery
Dinesen.
