Krudt med knald: A Bang for Your Buck, if You Like Old Silents

Look, if you’re not already into old Danish silent films, then Krudt med knald probably isn’t going to be your gateway drug. But for those of us who get a kick out of watching cinema from way back when, this one’s a decent enough Saturday afternoon watch. If you hate slapstick or anything before 1980, just skip it.

The whole thing kicks off with these two chaps, who, bless their hearts, seem to attract trouble like magnets attract paperclips. They’re tasked with something mundane, maybe delivering a package or fixing a leaky faucet, but of course, it all goes sideways.

And what makes it go sideways? Well, the "knald" part of the title. It’s not just a loud personality causing problems, though there’s plenty of that. No, there’s an actual object, a strange contraption that might be a firework or some kind of early explosive, that these two keep almost blowing up the whole town with. 💥

The physical comedy is exactly what you’d expect from this era. Lots of running around, people tripping over their own feet, and hats flying off in dramatic fashion. There’s one bit where a character, I think it’s Emilie Otterdahl, keeps getting drenched by a leaky pipe, and her exasperated sighs are just chef’s kiss even without sound.

You can see the foundations of later comedy duos in how the two leads play off each other. One is always trying to be clever, the other just seems to exist in a perpetual state of confusion. It’s a classic setup, really.

There’s a scene in a bakery that feels like it goes on a good minute too long. Dough flies everywhere, and for a moment, the chaos just stops being funny. Then someone slips on a banana peel, and you’re back in it. The intertitles pop up, sometimes a bit abruptly. One said something like, "Alas, fate has a cruel jest," which felt a bit heavy for all the pie throwing happening onscreen.

The sets are… well, they’re sets. You can almost feel the wobbling walls in some of the indoor scenes. But that’s part of the charm, right? It reminds you this was all put together by hand, long before green screens and CGI.

Marguerite Viby pops up in a few scenes, and she’s got this incredible energy. Even without dialogue, her eyes just sparkle with mischief. You kinda wish she had more screen time. Her character always seemed to be just slightly smarter than everyone else, observing the pandemonium with a smirk.

One specific shot that stuck with me: a long take of a dog just staring at the camera while all this chaos unfolds around it. It’s maybe 10 seconds, but it just feels so out of place, almost like the dog was wondering what on earth these humans were doing. It’s not important to the plot, just… there.

The whole thing builds to this big, climactic chase through what looks like a town fair. There’s a runaway cart, a very confused police officer, and finally, the big "knald" itself. It’s less of an explosion and more of a grand, messy fireworks display that somehow manages to tie up all the loose ends. It’s a bit convenient, sure, but hey, it’s a silent comedy.

It’s interesting to see how much of the humor still translates. Sure, some gags feel dated, but the pure physical effort and the exaggerated expressions still get a chuckle. It’s not profound, not trying to be. Just a simple, good-hearted romp.

A few random thoughts:

• The hats! So many hats, constantly falling off.
• That one extra who always seemed to be looking directly at the camera. Bless him.
• The close-ups on people’s shocked faces sometimes go on a bit too long. You start to notice the makeup.
• The way the "knald" contraption looked like a picnic basket with wires.
• It gets noticeably better once the police get involved; the stakes feel just a tiny bit higher.

So, yeah, Krudt med knald. It’s a piece of film history with a few solid laughs, if you know what you’re getting into. Don't expect modern pacing, but if you appreciate the craft of early cinema, you might find some joy here.