The King’s Choice
It won’t win any awards for innovation, but the Norwegian-Irish World War II drama “The King’s Choice” demonstrates that there is still a place for moviemaking that is straight-ahead and old-fashioned, in the good sense. It’s the compelling story of how neutral Norway was overrun by Germany, and the response of King Haakon VII, Norway’s constitutional monarch.
Viewers who might dismiss the film as a “prestige” picture (it was Norway’s official Oscar nominee) aimed at stirring Norwegian patriotism (it recounts an act of anti-Nazi defiance) would be making a mistake. “The King’s Choice” is an affecting and handsomely made historical drama about an individual — albeit a king — who makes a difficult moral decision, and it’s the right decision.
The story takes place over a three-day period in April 1940. German ships began sailing into Norwegian waters on the grounds that the British had mined the nation’s harbors. What Germany was really after was Norway’s plentiful iron ore, and all Norway had to do was submit quietly. Any resistance — and it’s an understatement to say that Norway was no military match for the invaders — would be crushed.
The king (intensely played by Jesper Christensen) has no real political power, and his initial aim is to preserve Norwegian neutrality. He’s a thoroughly decent man who loves playing with his grandchildren, and wants nothing but the best for Norway — and he has no illusions about Germany. The monarch’s adult son (Anders Baasmo Christiansen) also sees the Nazis for what they are, though he’s a bit of a hothead, prone to shooting from the hip. Some of the lesser lights among the politicians seem very slow to realize what Germany is up to.
There isn’t any doubt about the outcome of the invasion. The Germans roll through Norway in a matter of hours, the Norwegian Cabinet flees Oslo, and Hitler himself wants to see the Norwegian puppet government in the hands of a politician whose views he finds sympathetic, Vidkun Quisling. Quisling never appears on camera, but has a key offscreen role.
After the king and his son, the major character, and maybe the film’s most complex, is Curt Braüer (Karl Marcovics), the German envoy to Norway. He believes in Norwegian neutrality, and has little use for the military types who are shouldering him aside. Like Norwegians, he doesn’t seem to have fully grasped the depth of Nazi malice. As the film progresses, he grows less sympathetic, especially as he carries out Hitler’s order to find the king (who is in hiding with his family) and persuade him to tell his subjects not to resist the invaders.
Though the king is a figurehead, with the government now in shambles, his public stance becomes vital — it could end up costing (or saving) many lives.
Director Erik Poppe sees the king in frankly heroic terms — Haakon VII is humane, fully accepts his responsibility and weighs the costs of knuckling under versus showing defiance. He makes the correct choice. The contrast with Braüer, who turns out to be a hollow man, is telling. Poppe also impresses in the film’s two battle scenes — early on, when an aged Norwegian commander fires on a German warship, and later, when a bunch of green and boyish Norwegian troops take a stand against a German military convoy.
The film strays a bit in following the misfortunes of a secondary character whose story seems melodramatic and a distraction from the film’s main thrust. But the titular monarch is a genuinely admirable character. Haakon VII is a hero in Norway, and “The King’s Choice” tells us why.