I’m
not inclined towards hyperbole, but I seriously think this little-known Danish drama has had an effect on me that is completely unique in my entire history of
film-going. It’s a mixture of the dark, bizarre, confusing, inspirational, and
sublime. I’ve never seen anything like it.
So
now we’re clear on that, I’ll describe the plot itself. Carl Theodor Dreyer
adapted the screenplay from a (much wordier) play, and the influence can be
felt in the few locations and small cast, but it is the stronger for the narrow
scope.
Picture
a bleak, windblown farm in 1920s Germany. Here live the Borgen family, ruled by a pious, disillusioned patriarch. Most of his disappointment stems from
the fact that his second son, Johannes, whom he was grooming to be a spiritual
revolutionary (presumably the next Martin Luther), went mad. Now Johannes
wanders the moors, wailing ancient prophecies into the wind.