THE LAST VIKING. We’re All a Little Crazy [REVIEW]

You need to be ready for the fact that The Last Viking is a film in which the Beatles are reincarnated as patients from a psychiatric hospital, and Mads Mikkelsen proves he can be both John Lennon and a guy who jumps out of windows with the grace of a Nordic god. The Last Viking is cinema that’s completely mad, moving, and devilishly human — classic Anders Thomas Jensen in his best, weirdest form.

I had the pleasure of seeing The Last Viking ahead of its premiere, and let me tell you one thing — this is 100% Jensen being Jensen. If you know his work, you know what to expect: a delicate balance between tragedy and farce, laughter through tears, and moral dilemmas hidden inside grotesque humor. It’s a tragicomedy where no one is entirely sane — and that’s exactly what makes it so authentic.

The story of two brothers — Manfred (Mads Mikkelsen) and Anker (Nikolaj Lie Kaas) — unfolds like a dark comedy about family, guilt, and the need for connection. After years in prison, Anker returns to recover a hidden stash. There’s just one problem: his brother believes he’s… John Lennon. To get to the money, they first need to reach his original personality, and the key lies in recreating The Beatles — with a band made up of patients with extreme personality disorders. And honestly, if that doesn’t sound like pure Jensen, I don’t know what does.

Mikkelsen is phenomenal here. He completely shatters his Hollywood image of the cold, marble-carved villain. He plays a neurotic, fragile, unpredictable man — someone you want to hug but are also a little afraid of. But crucially, he doesn’t steal the entire show. This is an ensemble film, and the supporting cast delivers absolute gems. Nikolaj Lie Kaas as Anker is perfect as a wounded man battling not only his past but also his own aggression. In his eyes, you can see rage, grief, and helplessness — emotions that always hit harder than words in Jensen’s films.

Lars Brygmann as Lothar — the “psychiatrist” who comes up with the idea of forming an unusual schizophrenic band — brings a touch of absurd levity the film truly deserves. But it’s Hamdan Razzazi as Kardo — a schizophrenic who at times is Paul McCartney, sometimes Heinrich Himmler, and occasionally Björn from ABBA — who completely disarms the audience. His performance dances on the fine line between genius and madness, with impeccable comedic timing.

Despite the comedic, almost grotesque surface, Jensen strikes notes straight out of a morality play. No one portrays mental illness and psychological disorders quite like this Dane — in a way that shocks but also humanizes. He never mocks his characters. Instead, he seems to say: look, they’re also trying to live, dream, love, and understand themselves and others. There’s method in this madness. In the absurdity — empathy. The film raises its voice, in its twisted and at times absurd way, in defense of acceptance, showing that “normality” is as arbitrary a concept as the emotional stability of its characters.

The film’s tone is a classic Jensen rollercoaster. One moment you’re laughing out loud, the next you’ve got a lump in your throat. From grotesque to touching — sometimes in a single shot. It’s the kind of cinema that can annoy you, surprise you, confuse you, but never leaves you indifferent. And although the middle section could be a solid 15 minutes shorter, the finale more than makes up for it. The closing scenes are an emotional bomb — hilarious, unhinged, surprisingly soothing, and very much in the spirit of a director who’s never afraid to hold up an uncomfortable mirror to the audience.

The Last Viking is a peculiar feel-good movie about people who are lost, broken, but not defeated. About those who carry monsters inside but still try to play together — even if their band is made up of lunatics. Jensen reminds us that everyone has something a little messy inside. That it’s worth giving others the space to be themselves — even if their “self” means being a Beatle in a hospital gown.

I don’t know if this is Jensen’s best film, but it’s certainly one of his most personal. And one of those that stick with you long after the credits roll. It’s an absolutely bonkers film — but in the best sense of the word. Pure, unpretentious entertainment that proves cinema can still be bold and honest.