Mon. Jul 8th, 2024

Mads Mikkelsen Should Be a Best Actor Oscar Contender<!-- wp:html --><p>Henrik Ohsten, Zentropa / Magnolia Pictures</p> <p><a href="https://www.thedailybeast.com/mads-mikkelsen-on-the-joys-of-drinking-replacing-johnny-depp-and-his-hunger-for-more-hannibal">Mads Mikkelsen</a> has one of the all-time great “don’t fuck with me” countenances, and he radiates an imposing measure of stern, confident purpose in <em>The Promised</em> <em>Land</em>, Denmark’s submission for Best International Feature at this year’s <a href="https://www.thedailybeast.com/keyword/oscars">Academy Awards</a>. With a head of gray hair framing his stoic, lined visage, the Danish actor once again embodies a man with whom one does not casually trifle, and he’s the arresting nucleus of director Nikolaj Arcel’s adaptation of Ida Jessen’s novel <em>The Captain and Ann Barbara</em> about a military veteran with a dream that’s almost as grand as his will. A story about the titanic ambition and force of personality required to achieve the unthinkable, and the level-headed compassion and selflessness necessary to prevent self-destruction, it’s an old-school melodrama of pride, folly, and sacrifice that’s electrified by yet another superb turn from its leading man.</p> <p>In 1755 Copenhagen, Ludvig Kahlen (Mikkelsen) visits with administrators at the Royal Treasury to discuss his wish to cultivate the Heath of Jutland, a vast stretch of land whose infertile soil has left it permanently barren and uninhabited. Having served the past 25 years in the German army, Ludvig sees this as his opportunity to please the king and, in doing so, to earn a noble title and the estate manor and servants that come with it. Though this is viewed as a doomed endeavor, he’s granted permission to try his hand at making something out of nothing on his own dime, and he accepts this deal, trekking out to the middle of nowhere and beginning to dig, with meager results. Even so, Mikkelsen’s face exudes neither disappointment nor frustration but simply implacable determination, and his ferociousness is further illustrated when a child’s cries for help lure him to a forest clearing and, upon being beset by a criminal, he swiftly shoots the man dead.</p> <p>Ludvig soon grasps that he can’t conquer the heath on his own and, with the aid of local pastor Anton Eklund (Gustav Lindh), he procures two servants in Johannes Eriksen (Morten Hee Andersen) and his wife Ann Barbara (Amanda Collin), who fled their nasty master and are now considered law-breaking runaways. Johannes and Ann plan to stay only one season before moving onto more profitable pastures, and away from Ludvig, whom they dub “an odd master” for his severe demeanor, his demand that everything be exactingly arranged, and the fact that he carries himself like a “fancy nobleman” despite his ragged clothes and cracked hands. Nonetheless, they do as he asks and begin to trust him once the settlement (dubbed “King’s House” by Ludvig) is visited by an emissary of Frederik de Schinkel (Simon Bennebjerg), the area’s reigning landowner and Johannes and Ann’s former employer, and Ludvig conceals their presence while accepting an invitation to Frederik’s opulent Hald Manor.</p> <p><a href="https://www.thedailybeast.com/obsessed/the-promised-land-review-mads-mikkelsen-should-be-an-oscar-contender">Read more at The Daily Beast.</a></p><!-- /wp:html -->

Henrik Ohsten, Zentropa / Magnolia Pictures

Mads Mikkelsen has one of the all-time great “don’t fuck with me” countenances, and he radiates an imposing measure of stern, confident purpose in The Promised Land, Denmark’s submission for Best International Feature at this year’s Academy Awards. With a head of gray hair framing his stoic, lined visage, the Danish actor once again embodies a man with whom one does not casually trifle, and he’s the arresting nucleus of director Nikolaj Arcel’s adaptation of Ida Jessen’s novel The Captain and Ann Barbara about a military veteran with a dream that’s almost as grand as his will. A story about the titanic ambition and force of personality required to achieve the unthinkable, and the level-headed compassion and selflessness necessary to prevent self-destruction, it’s an old-school melodrama of pride, folly, and sacrifice that’s electrified by yet another superb turn from its leading man.

In 1755 Copenhagen, Ludvig Kahlen (Mikkelsen) visits with administrators at the Royal Treasury to discuss his wish to cultivate the Heath of Jutland, a vast stretch of land whose infertile soil has left it permanently barren and uninhabited. Having served the past 25 years in the German army, Ludvig sees this as his opportunity to please the king and, in doing so, to earn a noble title and the estate manor and servants that come with it. Though this is viewed as a doomed endeavor, he’s granted permission to try his hand at making something out of nothing on his own dime, and he accepts this deal, trekking out to the middle of nowhere and beginning to dig, with meager results. Even so, Mikkelsen’s face exudes neither disappointment nor frustration but simply implacable determination, and his ferociousness is further illustrated when a child’s cries for help lure him to a forest clearing and, upon being beset by a criminal, he swiftly shoots the man dead.

Ludvig soon grasps that he can’t conquer the heath on his own and, with the aid of local pastor Anton Eklund (Gustav Lindh), he procures two servants in Johannes Eriksen (Morten Hee Andersen) and his wife Ann Barbara (Amanda Collin), who fled their nasty master and are now considered law-breaking runaways. Johannes and Ann plan to stay only one season before moving onto more profitable pastures, and away from Ludvig, whom they dub “an odd master” for his severe demeanor, his demand that everything be exactingly arranged, and the fact that he carries himself like a “fancy nobleman” despite his ragged clothes and cracked hands. Nonetheless, they do as he asks and begin to trust him once the settlement (dubbed “King’s House” by Ludvig) is visited by an emissary of Frederik de Schinkel (Simon Bennebjerg), the area’s reigning landowner and Johannes and Ann’s former employer, and Ludvig conceals their presence while accepting an invitation to Frederik’s opulent Hald Manor.

Read more at The Daily Beast.

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