5.8/10
Senior Film Conservator
A definitive 5.8/10 rating for a film that redefined the boundaries of cult cinema. 65, 66, and Me remains a cornerstone of transgressive art.
Honestly? Only if you have a soft spot for vintage slapstick where the plot exists entirely to move characters from point A to point B. If you need logic or character growth, you’ll hate it. If you want to see a middle-aged guy in a bathing costume get mistaken for a soldier, you’ve found your holy grail. 🌊
The whole thing starts because Karl-Alfred hits a lamppost while buzzed. It’s a very matter-of-fact way to kick off a farce. He jumps into the sea, loses his clothes, and suddenly he’s in the army.
The movie doesn't really care about the 'how' or the 'why.' It just rolls with it. The detectives are absolutely convinced this middle-aged, slightly portly guy is a young soldier. They don't even blink. It’s the kind of writing that makes you wonder if the scriptwriters were hitting the bottle as hard as Karl-Alfred was at the start.
I found myself watching the background extras more than the main cast. There’s this one scene in the mess hall where a guy is eating soup in such a aggressive way that I completely forgot what the main characters were arguing about. It’s weirdly hypnotic. 🥣
Once he’s in the regiment, the movie stops being a thriller and turns into a buddy comedy with 65 Ramlösa and 66 Frisk. They seem like nice enough guys, even if they spend half the time staring blankly into the middle distance. It’s not quite as charming as Fighting Stock, but it has its moments of accidental sweetness.
The real highlight is how quickly Karl-Alfred just gives up on trying to prove his identity. He’s like, 'Well, I’m here now, might as well learn to march.' It’s a bold way to handle a nervous breakdown. He’s got more patience than I would have had in that situation.
It’s not going to change your life. It feels a bit like watching someone else’s home movies from a very confused summer. But sometimes that’s enough. Just don't ask too many questions or the whole thing falls apart like a wet paper towel.
