The Promised Land (2023)
The Promised Land is not a typical historical drama. Sure, it’s got 18th-century Denmark, war heroes, and ruthless aristocrats—the whole costume drama shebang. But beneath the powdered wigs and sweeping landscapes lies a story that’s both intimate and epic, a character study woven into a tale of human resilience.
Mads Mikkelsen delivers a powerhouse performance as Captain Ludvig Kahlen, a haunted soldier tasked with cultivating a desolate, baron wasteland. It’s a Sisyphean task, and the film doesn’t shy away from the harsh realities of this unforgiving environment. The cinematography is stunning, capturing the bleak beauty of the Jutland moors in all their unforgiving glory. But there’s a subtle shift as the story progresses. The initial coldness of the colour palette gives way to warmer hues as the first crops sprout, a testament to the stubborn hope that persists.
The plot itself is fairly straightforward—man versus nature, with a hefty dose of man versus man thrown in for good measure. The villain, Frederik de Schinkel (played with deliciously icy menace by Simon Bennebjerg), is a cruel landowner who sees Kahlen’s success as a threat to his power. This good versus evil dichotomy could feel clichéd, but the film elevates it by exploring the complexities of Kahlen’s own morality. He is a flawed hero who struggles with memories of his time in the war, and Mikkelsen expertly captures this internal conflict. There’s a scene where Kahlen sits alone at a table, a single tear tracing a path down his cheek. It needs no dialogue; Mikkelsen’s entire performance is a tapestry of unspoken emotions.
The supporting cast is equally strong. Amanda Collin brings a quiet strength to her role as a young woman who joins Kahlen’s mission, and Kristine Kujath Thorp is captivating as a noblewoman caught between duty and desire. The dialogue is sparse but evocative, letting the actors use their silences to speak volumes. The pacing is deliberate at times, mirroring the slow, arduous process of taming the land. Some viewers might find this slow burn frustrating, but it allows the film to build a deep sense of place and character.
The Promised Land isn’t without its shortcomings. The score, while atmospheric, can be a bit repetitive at times. And a few plot points feel a tad predictable, like echoes of classic Westerns transplanted to the Danish moors. Still, these are minor quibbles in an otherwise powerful film.
The Promised Land is a rewarding cinematic experience. It will leave you pondering the human capacity for both destruction and creation. If you’re looking for a visually stunning historical drama with strong performances and a thought-provoking message, this one’s definitely worth seeking out. Just be prepared for a slow burn, but trust me, the payoff is worth it.