FILM REVIEW: "The Promised Land" is a jam-packed historical drama with a high-stakes tale to spin
The Promised Land (written and directed by Nikolaj Arcel) follows Ludvig Kahlen (Mads Mikkelsen), a retired military captain, as he sets out on a seemingly impossible task to cultivate an arid patch of country known as the heath. Despite grave danger and without support nor confidence, Kahlen’s undertaking to claim land and honour seems doomed from the beginning. His fortune changes with the arrival of two hardworking runaways, but it becomes clear that there is a lot more to worry about than the land’s providence.
Arcel deftly assembles several compelling motivations and obstacles from the get-go, and then folds them neatly away into the background as Kahlen sets out. It gives the beginning of the film and that first break into the slow-moving scenes of the isolated wilderness a real sense of space. This apparently unforgiving frontier reveals itself with gentle light and golden afternoons – it binds the main character into a natural mutualism with a force that every character consistently expresses fear at. As the endlessly vile (De) Schinkel (a flawless performance by Simon Bennebjerg) expresses a philosophy that directly contradicts what we’ve seen as an audience so far, he is quickly shown to be the real threat. Without wasting time gushing over the oppositional tension of our antagonist and protagonist, it suffices to say this is the most intense and metaphysical conflict I’ve seen on screen since Rustin Cohle and the Yellow King in True Detective S1.
Kahlen and Schinkel’s scenes are the highlight, easily, but every character individually and opposite our protagonist possesses a distinct characterisation that adds to the movie’s dramatic fullness. Each on-screen personality feels as unique as chess pieces, and their interplay creates a consistently satisfying story that winds on into the darkest and lightest parts of the Human psyche. Ann Barbara (Amanda Collin) also holds great sway in her scenes and forgoing a choice here and there that feels like reductive ways to increase her character’s motivation, almost entirely sidesteps the clichés of Damaged Angry Person.
The Promised Land nails the hearth-heated claustrophobia of stuffy manors and clean open beauty of the Dutch countryside with its sound and cinematography, but feels left out of the spotlight in favour of the many, many moving pieces of character stakes. It still does a great job of conveying the period, but I wish there had been a little more dualism created with the man-made environments which seem to exist largely in the background.
Apart from a few minor gripes that are natural symptoms of a heavily loaded narrative, The Promised Land delivers an utterly thrilling experience with a clear and beautiful message.
