Filmens Helte: An Awkward Danish Romp You Might Actually Dig

Alright, so 'Filmens helte' – 'The Heroes of the Film' – is one of those old Danish comedies you stumble across, and it's… well, it’s certainly something. If you’re into the very specific charm of early, slightly creaky European cinema, especially the kind that leans hard into physical comedy and earnest, sometimes baffling performances, then yeah, you might get a kick out of this. It’s absolutely not for anyone who needs their comedies sleek, fast-paced, or subtle. You’ll probably hate it if you can’t forgive some truly clunky editing and a plot that feels like it’s making itself up as it goes along.

Carl Schenstrøm and Harald Madsen, playing their familiar 'Long and Short' duo, are at the heart of it, naturally. Their dynamic is the film's engine, even when that engine is sputtering a bit. There’s a scene early on where they’re trying to impress a film director, played by Ib Schønberg, and the whole thing just goes completely off the rails. They’re meant to be demonstrating their 'heroic' potential, but it devolves into a slapstick routine involving a ladder, a bucket of water, and a very confused dog. The dog looks genuinely distressed, actually. It’s hard to tell if that was part of the gag or if the poor thing just wanted off the set.

The pacing here is a real beast. Some scenes, like the aforementioned audition, just stretch on and on, way past the point of being funny, until you’re just watching people flail. Other times, the movie zips past what feel like crucial plot points. There’s a moment where our heroes suddenly find themselves chasing a runaway carriage, and the transition is so abrupt, you wonder if a reel got lost somewhere. One minute they’re trying to fix a flat tire, the next they’re in a full-blown pursuit. It feels less like a narrative choice and more like someone in the editing room just went, 'Eh, good enough.'

Vera Lense-Møller, as the ingenue, mostly has to react with wide-eyed disbelief or mild amusement. Her character is a bit of a cipher, honestly. She’s there to be rescued, to be impressed, or to provide a reason for the boys to do something foolish. There’s a scene where she’s supposedly in peril, tied to a chair in some dimly lit warehouse, and the villain — I think it was Nikolai Brechling, though he’s barely in it — is delivering this incredibly stilted monologue about his master plan. You can practically hear the actors waiting for their cues. The camera lingers on Vera’s face for what feels like an eternity, and her expression doesn’t really change. It’s not fear, not anger, just a sort of placid waiting. It makes the whole 'danger' feel very low stakes.

But then, every now and then, something unexpected clicks. There’s a sequence where Schenstrøm, the tall, gangly one, tries to scale a wall using a series of increasingly ridiculous implements – a broom, then a fishing rod. It’s a classic bit, and his physical comedy is just so committed. You can see the effort, the real sweat. It’s genuinely funny, and it reminded me a bit of the frantic energy in something like Laughing Gas, though far less refined. He falls, he gets back up, he tries again. It’s pure, unadulterated slapstick, and it works because he’s all in.

Cinematic perspective: Exploring the visual vocabulary of Filmens helte (1928) through its definitive frames.

The costumes are another point of interest, mostly because they often look a size too big or too small. Schenstrøm’s trousers seem to have a life of their own, constantly threatening to slip down, which I guess is part of his character. Madsen, the shorter one, has this perpetually rumpled suit that makes him look like he’s been sleeping in it for a week. It all adds to the slightly chaotic, unpolished feel of the film. It's not glamorous, that's for sure.

The sound design, where it exists, is… rudimentary. This is early sound, so you get these sudden bursts of music or overly loud footsteps that are clearly foley. Dialogue often sounds like it was recorded in an echo chamber, then pasted over the scene. There’s a scene in a cafe where the background chatter is so distracting, it’s almost impossible to focus on what the main characters are saying. It’s a relic of its time, no doubt, but it does pull you out of the moment.

Honestly, the best parts of 'Filmens helte' are the moments where the two leads are just allowed to interact, bouncing off each other with their established comedic rhythm. Their chemistry is undeniable, even when the script doesn't give them much to work with. You feel like you're watching two old friends who know exactly how to annoy and support each other. It’s a warmth that transcends the technical limitations.

Some of the background details are pretty charming. In one street scene, you can spot a child repeatedly trying to sneak into the frame, only to be gently shooed away by an unseen hand. It happens about three times. It’s a little thing, but it makes the whole production feel very alive, very immediate. Like they just shot it on the fly.

The film ends on a note of triumphant absurdity, as our 'heroes' are celebrated for something they mostly stumbled into. It doesn't really earn its emotional payoff, but by that point, you've probably just accepted the ride for what it is. It's not going to change your life, or even redefine your understanding of cinema. But if you're looking for a peculiar slice of film history, a bit of awkward charm, and a few genuine laughs amidst the sluggishness, 'Filmens helte' delivers on its own terms. Just don’t go in expecting a masterpiece. Expect a film that feels like it’s trying its best, and sometimes, that’s enough.