Venice Review: The Last Viking Celebrates Eccentrics, Mads Mikkelsen, and the Beatles

      "The world is filled with people," the anonymous narrator of Anders Thomas Jensen's The Last Viking begins, as a hand-drawn animation unfolds a rather unsettling story: once, there was a viking prince who lost his arm in combat; in response, his father, the king, declared that everyone must also lose their right arm. This quirky myth, where disability becomes commonplace, establishes the tone for what is the sixth film directed by the Oscar-nominated Danish screenwriter, hinting at a wholesome progression within his characteristic brand of dark humor. The animation serves as a brief interlude before the scene shifts to the aftermath of a heist thriller, featuring Anker (Nikolaj Lie Kaas) hiding a bag of money in a locker and urging his timid younger brother Manfred (Mads Mikkelsen) to swallow the key. Moments later, police sirens overshadow the terrified cries of their sister Freja (Bodil Jørgensen from The Kingdom: Exodus) amidst the chaos in the siblings' cluttered home.

      Fifteen years later, Anker is released from prison and immediately seeks to recover the money; however, Manfred is unhelpful. He has developed a condition that results in amnesia and a split personality, kidnaps every dog he encounters, and insists on being called "John," after John Lennon. Manfred/John is a peculiar character for Mads Mikkelsen to explore, showcasing a side of the actor that is not often visible. He is a bespectacled, middle-aged man who oscillates between being meek and explosive, revealing an unexpectedly childish aspect of Mikkelsen's talent.

      Indeed, Jensen has a knack for eliciting these intriguingly gentle performances from the Danish actor, much of which can be attributed to the recurring themes and cast in his works. Mikkelsen, Lie Kaas, and Nicolas Bro (who plays the antagonist seeking vengeance and fortune) continuously adapt their roles with each film, alternating between heroes and villains. Even if one is not acquainted with the universe of Jensen's gentle giants, it’s probable that The Last Viking will resonate emotionally; it intricately weaves unvoiced affection into its comedic scenarios. For instance, the film's midsection veers away from its heist-revenge narrative to gather a group of Danish and Swedish psychiatric patients sharing Manfred's dissociative identity disorder diagnosis, leading them to form a band. Or, to be more precise, to revive the Beatles, although they primarily perform ABBA songs.

      As a writer-director, Jensen is attracted to the archetype of the underdog—particularly vulnerable ones—and The Last Viking adheres to this theme. Anker and Manfred represent two parts of the same entity, two fractured individuals whose distinct brokenness seems so mismatched yet somehow complements each other—much like siblings. Through flashbacks, we discover that the boys were raised by an abusive father who made their lives unbearable, with a young Manfred often facing the harshest treatment for wearing viking attire to school. While these elements provide insight into the symbolism behind the title, the viking aspect serves as a unique take on masculinity, a topic Jensen's films have consistently analyzed with humor and sensitivity. In his narratives, strength is a flaw, while vulnerability acts as a shield, rendering The Last Viking a keen exploration of men's mental health—not through portraying struggles, but through an enjoyable blend of genres, meta-textuality, and positive affirmation disguised as a Beatles song.

      The Last Viking made its debut at the Venice Film Festival 2025.