You’ll be haunted for days by ‘Girl with the Needle’
The grimmest of fairy tales, Magnus von Horn’s “The Girl with the Needle” is brimming with dread, darkness and morally compromised characters so shockingly evil that you almost lose faith in humanity. So, need I tell you it’s f-ing brilliant? Well, it is, with all elements – sound, score, cinematography, acting, writing and direction – melding into a production that holds nothing back when it comes to depicting how far people will go to survive in a living hell.
In this instance, that would be Copenhagen at its bleakest in the immediate wake of World War I, a conflict that destroyed almost every vestige of decency in the service of … What? That’s the question vexing lowly factory worker Karoline (Vic Carmen Sonne) as she endures her drone-like existence stitching uniforms as part of a war effort that has resulted in massive casualties. And those are the lucky soldiers. Others return to their wives and families hideously disfigured and shellshocked, with the last remnants of hope left on distant battlefields.
Forgotten is the joy Karoline experienced before her husband, Peter (Besir Zeciri), went MIA. Now, all she knows is grief and longing. You see it on Sonne’s face, but she makes you feel it in your bones. It’s all revealed in boxy black and white as Karoline shrouds herself in gloom and despair. Then, IT happens, a dizzying fling with her tall, handsome boss, Jørgen (Joachim Fjelstrup), promising marriage and an opulent home for the child they’ve conceived. Suddenly, she’s Cinderella. And then the clock strikes 12. Before she knows it, she’s back in her dank garret pregnant, jobless and utterly defeated.
A quick Google search confirms that Karoline was more the rule than the exception in an era when thousands of European mothers-to-be grew so desperate they were willing to spare their last dime to relinquish their newborns to illegal for-profit adoption services. Abortion was not an option unless, like Karoline, you were driven to do it yourself. Her instrument of choice? A foot-long knitting needle.
It doesn’t go well, but a couple of Samaritans in Dagmar (Trine Dyrholm) and her soon-to-be 7-year-old daughter, Erena (Ava Knox Martin), come to her rescue, staunching the bleeding and presenting her with the option to hand her baby over to them – for a nominal fee – with the promise of finding the child a loving home. What could go wrong? Plenty!
Von Horn and his co-writer, Line Langebek, empty the canon of depravity, as Karoline not only entrusts her baby with Dagmar but also moves in with the candy merchant, hiring on as a wet nurse whose duties include breastfeeding Erena. Ick is right. But it’s in keeping with a film determined to illustrate the abominable brutality that can occur when society turns its back on its most vulnerable.
From that perspective, 1919 begins to feel eerily like 2019, with compassion at a premium and classism and fear of the “other” quickly on the rise. Von Horn (“Sweat”) presents us with a worst-case scenario by cleverly incorporating the true story of Denmark’s most notorious serial killer, who went unchecked by a citizenry so emotionally bankrupt that it expressed little concern for the slayer’s destitute victims.
Life is indeed cheap in “The Girl with the Needle,” and the misery increases with the unexpected return of Karoline’s husband, Peter, bearing a face so severely maimed he must wear a mask. Even Karoline is repelled, oblivious to the fact she too is a participant in this vicious sport of marginalization. Only after learning that Paul has been reduced to a circus freak does she begin to understand how insidious this cycle of victims victimizing others has become.
Yes, “The Girl with the Needle” is a haunting fairy tale bordering on a horror picture, but it’s also at heart a very real indictment of the waste and futility of war, and how it can cause people to violently turn on each other. It’s a powerful message made more resonant by the heightened level of realism brought forth through the lens of cinematographer Michał Dymek, as well as the evocative sets by Jagna Dobesz and the unsettling score by Frederikke Hoffmeier, aka Puce Mary.
But what enables the film to thrive are the brave performances by Sonne and Dyrholm, who imbue their characters with an inner light growing dimmer in a city where compassion and benevolence have succumbed to the squalor. Karoline and Dagmar do what they must to endure, and to hell with everyone else.
It’s not unlike the mindsets of many people today who’ve allowed themselves to become desensitized in the aftermath of a tragic event such as the pandemic, where needless and excess death somehow became acceptable. In that respect, “The Girl with the Needle” seeks to issue a wake-up call, as well as a passionate plea for us to regain our empathy. The only question is, are we still capable?
Movie review
The Girl with the Needle
Rated: Not rated
Cast: Vic Carmen Sonne, Trine Dyrholm, Besir Zeciri, Ava Knox Martin and Joachim Fjelstrup
Director: Magnus von Horn
Writers: Magnus von Horn and Line Langebek
Runtime: 122 minutes
Where: In theaters Dec. 6 (limited)
Grade: A-