The Last Sentence: Swedish Neutrality Gets a Dressing Down

Torgny Segerstedt is considered the paragon of Swedish leftist journalists, but he had no love for the Soviets. In 1924, the future critic of German National Socialist marked the death of Lenin with an editorial castigating the deceased dictator as a “curse” upon the Russian people, amongst other things. Of course, the National Socialist and Communists were allies for good portion of his career. Like a lone voice in the wilderness, Segerstedt inveighs against Hitler and Swedish “neutrality” in Jan Troell’s biographical drama, The Last Sentence (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

Segerstedt was a difficult person, as his publisher Axel Forssman (the original “Axel F”) could well attest. Despite their friendship and close professional ties, Segerstedt was rather openly carrying on an affair with his wife Maja, a Jewish heiress who shared Segerstedt’s editorial convictions even before the rise of Hitler. Segerstedt’s emotionally damaged wife Puste is also fully aware of his long term infidelity, but she is powerless to stop it.

When Hitler consolidates power, Segerstedt welcomes him to the world stage with an editorial so blistering it draws a protest from the German foreign ministry. Not surprisingly, this only encourages crusading editor, but thoroughly panics the new Swedish government. Soon, Segerstedt is contending with state censorship and taking meetings with the king and prime minister, who are nt amused. Yet, he remains maddeningly aloof from friends and family, even including Maja Forssman. Frankly, Troell and co-screenwriter suggest his only real love was reserved for his three dogs (two black hounds and a bulldog), which would be an odd similarity between him and his favorite target for scorn.

Troell clearly tries to remind viewers the principled dissenters of the world are often self-absorbed jerk-heels, because they do not care what people think. There is no question Segerstedt advocated for just causes, including Swedish military intervention on behalf of Finland against the Soviets, but you would not want to be married to him.

Without question, Segerstedt lived a dramatic life, but there is still something unsatisfying about a film that chronicles the Winter War and WWII from the perspective of a drawing room in a neutral country. Danish Jesper Christensen plays the old Swedish newspaperman with perfect erudite severity, but viewers will often feel he is giving them a withering stare over his spectacles during an incredibly awkward editorial meeting.

In contrast, Björn Granath accentuates Axel F’s low key decency and personal pragmatism, making some sense out of his highly inequitable personal relationships. As Forssman and Puste, Pernilla August (a.k.a. Anakin’s mom, Shmi Skywalker) and Ulla Skoog are quite solid wrestling with their insecurities, but they look so much alike, his infidelity seems inexplicably reckless.

Troell and co-DP Mischa Gavrjusjov’s black-and-white cinematography is absolutely arresting, but the film in general is a cold, standoffish affair. It is a cerebral work that forthrightly asks where neutrality ends and collaboration by inaction begins, but it rarely engages on an emotional level. Mostly recommended for longtime admirers of Troell’s work (such as the finely crafted Everlasting Moments), The Last Sentence opens this Friday (6/20) in New York at the Lincoln Plaza Cinema.

Maria Larsson’s Everlasting Moments

Were it not for Ingmar Bergman, Jan Troell would probably be celebrated as Sweden’s preeminent director, based on the multiple Academy Award nominations for The Immigrants and The New Land, his two picture epic often described as the Scandinavian Gone with the Wind. Troell’s films have a distinctly Swedish sensibility, telling sweeping historical stories with austerely reserved characters. Such is the case with his latest film, Everlasting Moments (trailer here), depicting a turn of the Twentieth Century Swedish woman who takes a measure solace in photography, which opens today in New York.

Maria Larsson’s husband Sigfrid is a brute. His hulking size often gets him work on the docks, but the local pub is more likely to see his wages than Maria. When complains, he responds with physical beatings, but her rigid father refuses to help her leave the abusive relationship. One day she wins a camera, which she promptly sets off to sell. However, Sebastian Pedersen, the genial owner of the nearest photography studio convinces her to experiment with it for a little while before selling it. When she returns with her first attempts, he is immediately impressed by her eye.

Over the course of Everlasting, the Larsson family suffers every trial and tribulation imaginable, with much of the trouble coming from their father, including serial philandering, chronic unemployment, military service, violent criminal activity with his radical trade union, and eventual incarceration. Sig Larsson might be irresponsible, but he is certainly potent, necessitating a mob of young actors to play the ever burgeoning Larsson brood over the years. At the center of the storm is Maria Larsson, played with dignified restraint by Maria Heiskanen, who implies much but says little.

Everlasting is best during the closely observed moments between Heiskanen and Jesper Christensen as Pedersen, capturing the furtive glances and incidental touches held slightly too long. Troell also deserves credit for not overplaying the clichéd feminist artist angle. In truth, Pedersen thinks far more of her talents than Larsson does. She is even able to put her camera away for years at a time, to concentrate on her family’s survival.

Clocking-in at well over two hours, Everlasting is quite deliberately paced, so audiences should be prepared to settle in for the long haul. Troell, who often serves as his own D.P., splits those duties with cinematographer Misha Gavrjusjov on Everlasting, creating a warm, earthy look for the film. Troell is a painterly filmmaker, whose own sense of composition matches that of his subject. Although it is often grimly naturalistic, Troell captures some moments of truth and beauty that linger in the memory. It opens today in New York at the Sunshine and Lincoln Plaza.