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Writer's pictureMurtaza Ali Khan

The Girl with the Needle: Film review

 A Masterpiece of Stark Realism and Cinematic Brilliance


by Murtaza Ali Khan



I recently watched Magnus von Horn's period drama The Girl with the Needle at the 49th Polish Film Festival, held in Gdynia, Poland. Loosely based on the true story of Danish serial killer Dagmar Overbye, this 2024 Danish-Swedish-Polish co-production takes its audience on an emotionally wrenching journey through post-World War I Denmark. While the historical basis provides a horrifying backdrop, the film transcends mere recounting of events to become a profound commentary on societal neglect, the precariousness of women’s roles, and the unsettling depths of human cruelty.

Shot mostly in Poland and directed by von Horn with a screenplay co-written by Line Langebek, the film has already garnered significant attention. It competed for the Palme d’Or at the 2024 Cannes Film Festival and won the Silver Lions for Best Feature Film at the 49th Polish Film Festival, alongside awards for Best Cinematography, Best Supporting Actress, Best Production Design, Best Score, and Best Costume Design. These accolades underscore the film’s technical brilliance and the immersive atmosphere it builds from the first frame to the last. It will also feature in the MAMI Mumbai Film Festival’s World Cinema section, further solidifying its international appeal.


A Nightmarish World of Post-War Denmark

At its core, The Girl with the Needle follows the harrowing experiences of Karoline, a young pregnant woman in Copenhagen who takes a job as a wet nurse for Dagmar, an older woman running a clandestine adoption agency under the pretext of a candy shop. What begins as a desperate attempt by Karoline to support herself soon spirals into a nightmarish descent into a world where unwanted newborns are sold to foster homes—or worse. The stark realization of what she has unwittingly stepped into forms the crux of the film’s tension, with von Horn masterfully pacing the narrative to slowly build dread and despair.


The cinematography is perhaps the film’s crowning achievement. The breathtaking black-and-white visuals evoke both the period and the emotional isolation of the characters. The chiaroscuro lighting and haunting compositions frequently recall the works of cinematic masters like Ingmar Bergman and Federico Fellini. The austere landscapes and decaying urban settings feel almost like characters in themselves, representing the grim societal backdrop against which Karoline’s tragic story unfolds.


The comparison to Lynch’s Elephant Man, Fellini’s Nights of Cabiria, and Bergman’s The Seventh Seal is apt—each of these films grapples with themes of alienation, suffering, and the struggle for survival in hostile worlds.

Thematic Depth and Cinematic Homages

One of the film’s most remarkable achievements is how it oozes with cinephilia, paying homage to classic films and directors while maintaining a distinct narrative voice. Throughout, I was reminded of Peter Lorre’s defense in Fritz Lang’s M, particularly during the courtroom scenes where Dagmar faces her accusers. The way she confronts her tormentors is as chilling as it is deeply tragic, illustrating the fine line between victim and perpetrator in a society that has long abandoned its most vulnerable members.


The film also echoes the surreal yet grounded nature of Del Toro’s Pan’s Labyrinth and Polanski’s Repulsion. Like those films, The Girl with the Needle uses macabre imagery and claustrophobic environments to amplify the psychological turmoil of its characters.

The sense of constant dread and foreboding is palpable, making the viewer feel trapped alongside Karoline, who finds herself ensnared in a web of deceit, exploitation, and violence.


The film’s production design, costume, and makeup departments deserve special mention. Each element meticulously recreates the post-war era with precision, immersing the audience in a world of grim poverty, moral ambiguity, and desperation. The scenes in Dagmar’s candy shop are particularly eerie—the bright, saccharine colors of the sweets starkly contrasting with the sordidness of the underlying operation. It's a powerful visual metaphor for the veneer of respectability that masks the horrors lurking beneath the surface.



Stellar Performances Elevate the Film

The performances in The Girl with the Needle are nothing short of outstanding. Vic Carmen Sonne, who plays Karoline, brings a raw vulnerability to the role that anchors the film’s emotional core. Her transformation from a naive young woman to someone hardened by the brutality of her surroundings is devastating to watch. Sonne captures both the fragility and inner strength of her character, making Karoline a figure of immense empathy even as her choices become increasingly bleak. Vic’s performance might remind some of Marion Cotillard’s Oscar-winning turn in La Vie en Rose.



Trine Dyrholm, in the role of Dagmar, is equally compelling. She exudes an unsettling calmness, masking her malevolent actions beneath a facade of maternal concern. Dyrholm’s portrayal of Dagmar is chilling because it refuses to rely on overt villainy; instead, she plays her as a complex character shaped by the same systemic failures that have ensnared Karoline. The chemistry between Sonne and Dyrholm is electric, with their dynamic shifting from tentative trust to mutual suspicion and, ultimately, betrayal.


A Reflection on Societal Failures

What makes The Girl with the Needle so difficult to watch is how unflinchingly it portrays the harsh realities of its time. The film offers no easy answers or comforting resolutions. Karoline’s journey into the dark abyss of post-WWI Denmark is a stark reminder of the fragility of women’s positions in a society that often treats them as expendable. The coldness with which she is treated by her landlord and the indifferent violence of the society around her serve as biting commentaries on the systemic neglect of marginalized individuals.


In one particularly memorable scene, Karoline tries to frighten a child with rats, hoping to deter the mother from taking over her apartment. But the mother’s cold, brutal treatment of the child in response is even more chilling, underscoring the cyclical nature of abuse and neglect that pervades this world.


The film constantly challenges our preconceived notions of morality and justice, presenting a world where survival often means making impossible choices.

Visual and Narrative Parallels to Cinema Giants

The film’s allusions to cinematic giants are unmistakable, particularly in the circus scenes, which evoke comparisons to Lynch's The Elephant Man and Fellini’s La Strada. The macabre deaths in the film bear the same starkness as those depicted in Haneke’s The White Ribbon. The circus, often a symbol of joy and wonder in cinema, is here transformed into a grotesque spectacle of suffering and exploitation.

The complex relationships in the film also mirror those in works like Buñuel’s Viridiana and Tristana. The rich man with whom Karoline falls in love is depicted as a figure of authority, yet he is ultimately revealed to be weak and subservient to his domineering mother. His inability to stand up for Karoline, despite her carrying his child, speaks to the broader theme of societal impotence in the face of entrenched hierarchies and injustices.



An Ending that Leaves You Wondering

The film’s conclusion, while not necessarily the worst possible ending, may leave some viewers unsatisfied. Karoline’s journey reaches a point of relative resolution, but the emotional scars she bears—and the horrors she has witnessed—linger long after the credits roll. It’s a testament to von Horn and Langebek’s storytelling that the film resists the temptation for a neatly packaged conclusion. Instead, it leaves the audience grappling with the same uncomfortable questions it raised throughout.


Why did the filmmakers choose this particular ending? Could they have opted for something more definitive, perhaps even more tragic? These are questions that linger in the mind long after viewing, and they speak to the film’s power to provoke thought and discussion.

Overall

The Girl with the Needle is a haunting and visually arresting crime drama that delves deep into the dark recesses of human nature—a masterful blend of stark realism, cinematic homage, and deeply affecting performances. It is not an easy film to watch, but it is a necessary one. Magnus von Horn’s direction, coupled with stunning cinematography and outstanding performances, ensures that this film will resonate with audiences for years to come. It is a work of art that challenges, disturbs, and ultimately leaves an indelible mark.


(All images have been taken from IMDB.com)


 

Murtaza Ali Khan is an award-winning film critic / journalist, covering art, culture, and entertainment for over a decade. He appears as a film expert on radio and TV and is regularly invited as a special guest to prestigious film festivals such as the Berlinale, Tokyo International Film Festival, International Film Festival of India (Goa), and Polish Film Festival (Gdynia). He has curated many film festivals and retrospectives for various Embassies and served on the jury of national and international film festivals, including the 69th and 70th National Film Awards.




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