There are two excellent reasons to watch this film. First, to observe the artist as obliviously self-involved, a figure of genius at what his talent enables him to accomplish and, at the same time, something of a monster in believing his talent justifies his unshakably selfish behavior and naive, misguided beliefs. Second, to see yet another magnificent portrayal by Max von Sydow. I think a case can be made that von Sydow has emerged as the greatest film actor of the last fifty years.
Knut Hamsun is one of the great writers of Western culture. He was born in 1859 in Norway, achieved a towering reputation as a novelist and poet, was awarded the Nobel prize for literature in 1920 and forever will have an asterisk by his name. The asterisk? Knut Hamsun* passionately supported the rise of Nazism, believed to the end that Hitler was a great man and supported the Nazi occupation of Norway.
Hamsun believed in agrarian values and hated modern industrial culture. He hated the British. He believed Germans and Norwegians were one people and that Norway would sit at the table next to Germany in bringing true values to the lives of all people. The movie starts in 1935 when Hamsun was 76. His marriage to Marie, a former actress 22 years younger, mother of their children, is almost poisonous yet interdependent. "You've made me ugly," she screams at him. "Yes, we've made each other ugly," he says contemptuously and turns away. Everything -- marriage, children, time -- revolve around his needs as a great writer and intellectual. For Hamsun, the rise of Hitler and Nazism promised an age of an orderly flowering of all he believed in. In brief, he swallowed what Hitler was saying, believing what he wanted to believe and unable to question his own certitude. His wife was even more fervently pro-German. Hamsun supported the Quisling government, argued against young Norwegians joining the resistance and denounced the Western allies and the Bolsheviks. Yet at the same time he would intercede in attempts to save those scheduled for execution. He believed in the goals of Nazism, just not all the means. He had never read Mein Kampf and was genuinely shocked after the war when he was forced to watched news reels of the death camps and the slaughter of Jews and all the others. He held to his beliefs even to the end. When Hitler committed suicide, Hamsun insisted on writing an obituary which was published in a Norway about to be taken over by the Allies. "Far be it from me," he wrote, "to talk vocally about Adolph Hitler. Neither his life or deeds invite any sentimentalism. He was a warrior, a warrior for mankind. He preached the gospel that all countries had rights. He was a reformer of the first water. It was his historic destiny to work in a time of extreme brutality which eventually destroyed him. That is how Western Europe should look upon Adolf Hitler. And we, his closest supporters, bow our heads over his death."
After the war Hamsun was arrested for treason, but held in a psychiatric hospital. Although most Norwegians now detested him, the government wasn't about to have an 86-year-old Nobel prize winner stood against a wall and shot. He was forced to undergo a lengthy psychiatric examination. Eventually the government decided he was "permanently mentally disabled," fined a substantial amount of money and released. How mentally disabled was he? He later published a scathing memoir. Feeble and full of years, he died at 92. That asterisk will always be attached to his name. Let artists who believe their genius entitles them to evaluate real life as it effects others beware.
Max von Sydow gives an indelible portrait of this brilliant, selfish, complex, tremulous, naive, self-centered and unshakable old man. He shows us the man from 76 to 92 and seems to shrink before our eyes. With a quivering hand and an old man's cough he becomes Hamsun. The performance is powerful and full of nuance: Hamsun and his wife (played by the wonderful Danish actress Ghita Norby) shredding each other with her reproaches and resentments and his ugly certitude; Hamsun trying to escape from a woman pleading with him to intercede for her imprisoned son; Hamsun trying to make his case with Hitler and becoming carried away with his own uncontrollable flow of words and more words; Hamsun dealing with a crafty psychiatrist; Hamsun testifying for himself after the war before a panel of judges...not justifying himself, not denying what he wrote, but still insisting that nothing he did was wrong...that he didn't kill anyone, that no one told him what he was writing was wrong, that Hitler was shown to be bad but, after all, that is in the past and cannot be undone.
I can think of few actors, perhaps none, who have been vital to so many powerful films over so long a period. Just consider a few: The Seventh Seal (1957), Wild Strawberries (1957), The Virgin Spring (1960), The Immigrants (1971), The New Land (1972), Pelle the Conqueror (1987) and Hamsun (1996). Even in the many movies in Europe and America he has made primarily, I assume, for the money, he has never failed to give less than a believable and vivid performance. Among my favorites: The incredibly over-the-top and amusing Ming the Magnificent in Flash Gordon (1980), the wise and thoughtful paid assassin, Joubert, in Three Days of the Condor (1975) and the sincere and doomed Dr. Paul Novotny in Dreamscape (1984). von Sydow's performance as Knut Hamsun is one of his richest and most subtle roles to date.
Knut Hamsun is one of the great writers of Western culture. He was born in 1859 in Norway, achieved a towering reputation as a novelist and poet, was awarded the Nobel prize for literature in 1920 and forever will have an asterisk by his name. The asterisk? Knut Hamsun* passionately supported the rise of Nazism, believed to the end that Hitler was a great man and supported the Nazi occupation of Norway.
Hamsun believed in agrarian values and hated modern industrial culture. He hated the British. He believed Germans and Norwegians were one people and that Norway would sit at the table next to Germany in bringing true values to the lives of all people. The movie starts in 1935 when Hamsun was 76. His marriage to Marie, a former actress 22 years younger, mother of their children, is almost poisonous yet interdependent. "You've made me ugly," she screams at him. "Yes, we've made each other ugly," he says contemptuously and turns away. Everything -- marriage, children, time -- revolve around his needs as a great writer and intellectual. For Hamsun, the rise of Hitler and Nazism promised an age of an orderly flowering of all he believed in. In brief, he swallowed what Hitler was saying, believing what he wanted to believe and unable to question his own certitude. His wife was even more fervently pro-German. Hamsun supported the Quisling government, argued against young Norwegians joining the resistance and denounced the Western allies and the Bolsheviks. Yet at the same time he would intercede in attempts to save those scheduled for execution. He believed in the goals of Nazism, just not all the means. He had never read Mein Kampf and was genuinely shocked after the war when he was forced to watched news reels of the death camps and the slaughter of Jews and all the others. He held to his beliefs even to the end. When Hitler committed suicide, Hamsun insisted on writing an obituary which was published in a Norway about to be taken over by the Allies. "Far be it from me," he wrote, "to talk vocally about Adolph Hitler. Neither his life or deeds invite any sentimentalism. He was a warrior, a warrior for mankind. He preached the gospel that all countries had rights. He was a reformer of the first water. It was his historic destiny to work in a time of extreme brutality which eventually destroyed him. That is how Western Europe should look upon Adolf Hitler. And we, his closest supporters, bow our heads over his death."
After the war Hamsun was arrested for treason, but held in a psychiatric hospital. Although most Norwegians now detested him, the government wasn't about to have an 86-year-old Nobel prize winner stood against a wall and shot. He was forced to undergo a lengthy psychiatric examination. Eventually the government decided he was "permanently mentally disabled," fined a substantial amount of money and released. How mentally disabled was he? He later published a scathing memoir. Feeble and full of years, he died at 92. That asterisk will always be attached to his name. Let artists who believe their genius entitles them to evaluate real life as it effects others beware.
Max von Sydow gives an indelible portrait of this brilliant, selfish, complex, tremulous, naive, self-centered and unshakable old man. He shows us the man from 76 to 92 and seems to shrink before our eyes. With a quivering hand and an old man's cough he becomes Hamsun. The performance is powerful and full of nuance: Hamsun and his wife (played by the wonderful Danish actress Ghita Norby) shredding each other with her reproaches and resentments and his ugly certitude; Hamsun trying to escape from a woman pleading with him to intercede for her imprisoned son; Hamsun trying to make his case with Hitler and becoming carried away with his own uncontrollable flow of words and more words; Hamsun dealing with a crafty psychiatrist; Hamsun testifying for himself after the war before a panel of judges...not justifying himself, not denying what he wrote, but still insisting that nothing he did was wrong...that he didn't kill anyone, that no one told him what he was writing was wrong, that Hitler was shown to be bad but, after all, that is in the past and cannot be undone.
I can think of few actors, perhaps none, who have been vital to so many powerful films over so long a period. Just consider a few: The Seventh Seal (1957), Wild Strawberries (1957), The Virgin Spring (1960), The Immigrants (1971), The New Land (1972), Pelle the Conqueror (1987) and Hamsun (1996). Even in the many movies in Europe and America he has made primarily, I assume, for the money, he has never failed to give less than a believable and vivid performance. Among my favorites: The incredibly over-the-top and amusing Ming the Magnificent in Flash Gordon (1980), the wise and thoughtful paid assassin, Joubert, in Three Days of the Condor (1975) and the sincere and doomed Dr. Paul Novotny in Dreamscape (1984). von Sydow's performance as Knut Hamsun is one of his richest and most subtle roles to date.
