At last September’s Toronto International Film Festival, I was fortunate to see a whopping forty-nine movies in under two weeks. You can do the math at how many that is per day (seriously, at this point, I’m not above asking Siri to calculate basic division in a pinch), but my total seemed to be the average for critics who attended and who wanted to get in as many titles as possible. Of course, with triple the number of films playing at TIFF, there was no chance you could see them all, so tough decisions had to be made. One such decision was choosing (several times) to forgo seeing Nikolaj Arcel’s historical epic The Promised Land (aka Bastarden in Danish) due to the showings conflicting with films higher on my list.

Festival FOMO was real, though, and I’m such a fan of star Mads Mikkelsen that I made a note to keep it on my radar for when Magnolia Pictures had it prepped for release. It didn’t hurt that the buzz out of TIFF was as strong as it was in Venice, where it had premiered the week before to great acclaim. Luckily, the wait wasn’t too long, bringing us directly to this first weekend of February when The Promised Land is opening for a limited theatrical release. The first month of 2024 was rough for new films (mainly because they weren’t noteworthy in the slightest – hello, Night Swim & Argylle!), but February is off to a resounding boom now that this Danish-German-Swedish co-production is on the scene.

Already an award-winning picture in Europe, The Promised Land is reminiscent of those grand achievements of cinema from back in the day when going to the movies was an event. Though I admittedly saw this from the comfort of my couch, I yearned to view it on the most giant screen possible. In doing so, I could more fully take in the breathtaking vistas captured by cinematographer Rasmus Videbæk, see the finer details in Kicki Ilander’s costumes, and let the note-perfect performances become even more textured and life-like. Though I regret missing its debut at the TIFF, this new release has undoubtedly become an unmissable event for cinephiles and history enthusiasts.

Based on Ida Jessen’s 2020 book, The Captain and Ann Barbra, Arcel and Anders Thomas Jensen’s adaptation is set against the backdrop of 19th-century Denmark and gives viewers a transfixing insight into the country’s intricate history, blending a stirring narrative with frequently captivating visuals. The remarkable finesse of Arcel in setting The Promised Land apart from other historical dramas is on display with the way he balances being historically accurate but managing to remain edge-of-your-seat entertaining throughout. Turning up the heat in tiny, engrossing increments, the immaculate control Arcel has over his audience is riveting.

In 1755, after a quarter of a century spent in service to the German Army, Captain Ludvig von Kahlen, an impoverished Danish officer of humble birth, is ready to retire. There’s a plot of land on the European peninsula bordering Norway and Germany considered to be devoid of life, and that’s where he believes he can succeed where countless others have failed. He gains permission from the Royal Danish Court to establish a settlement on this land in exchange for the noble title and manor homestead that would be appropriate for such an achievement.

His ambition directly conflicts with a nearby landowner, the conniving Frederik Schinkel (Simon Bennebjerg), whose quest for a legacy of power flies in opposition to Kahlen’s need to build something out of nothing. The more Kahlen works to overcome challenges (harsh conditions, lack of brute workforce, diminishing funds), the deeper Schinkel digs his claws into the earth to prevent him at every turn from getting ahead. Kahlen’s budding relationship with Schinkel’s Norweigan cousin (Kristine Kujath Thorp, The Burning Sea), to which he is all but betrothed, only enrages the petulant proprietor even more. It isn’t long before he resorts to deadly measures, dark deeds, and brutal attacks to secure his foothold on the heath, which begins to spring to life under Kahlen’s cultivation.

The grand cinematography by Videbæk captures the Danish countryside in all its magnificent beauty, though it was filmed in Germany, Sweden, and Czechia.
Even so, it easily transports international audiences into a period of the country’s history with authentic clarity, accompanied by a hauntingly complex score by Dan Romer (Crater). A precise devotion to detail in the costumes by Kicki Ilander (Britt-Marie Was Here) gives off the feeling of having been snagged from the history books. Every garment is a testament to visual accuracy, carrying us to an era when fashion was an art form. Foppish wigs, airy dresses that crinkle and float when the wearer moves, and the flea-bitten rags of itinerant farmers display the visual accuracy that speaks to the design elements of being an area of major triumph.

Mikkelsen is a charismatic actor from whom audiences have come to expect great performances, so it’s no surprise that he’s an excellent choice to deliver tour-de-force work in The Promised Land as the reserved Kahlen. Filling the quiet power void that iconic actor Daniel Day-Lewis left behind when he retired, Mikkelsen approaches each role with a humanity that speaks to a sensitive understanding of striking a balance between inner turmoil and peace. Though a man of few words, Kahlen has a fire burning within him to prove himself due to his difficult upbringing. You can see that ambition putting personal relationships as secondary to anything else that would keep him from getting what he wants.

That attitude changes when three different women enter his life. Thorp’s headstrong noble is not just another defiant aristocrat; she cares about Kahlen and how Schinkel’s horrible actions reflect on their name. Originally coming to Kahlen’s home looking for a hiding place, Ann Barbara (Amanda Collin) becomes a guiding light for him during his darkest days. The young Anmai Mus (Melina Hagberg), an orphaned child cast out because of the color of her skin and thought to bring bad luck, cracks Kahlen’s brittle veneer but also tests his resolve to be loyal only to himself.

The film is packed with no goodnicks that make life difficult for Kahlen and his chosen family, but no one can hold a candle to Bennebjerg’s deliciously vile turn as Schinkel. Bound to go down in film history as one of the most staggeringly evil characters ever put on screen, Bennebjerg knows the assignment and attacks it in full force. Without ever going overboard into camp or simpering histrionics, the actor brings out different hues that combine to make a rotten person so wicked. Your blood will boil, and your teeth will gnash at the cruel things he does, but without spoiling anything, rest assured that revenge in The Promised Land is sweet and served ice cold.

An outstanding example of contemporary filmmaking, The Promised Land is must-see material, though it disappointingly didn’t receive an Oscar nomination for Best International Feature. I would have loved to see Mikkelsen in some conversation for Best Actor, even though this was a strong year for that category. Directed with emotionally charged resonance by Arcel (reteaming with Mikkelsen after 2012’s A Royal Affair), it may run over two hours but flies by in what feels like half that time. Arcel’s epic does laudable justice to its subject matter, opening a captivating door to the accessible historical drama that will engage lovers of quality filmmaking.