The Last Sentence

Two kinds of evil are analyzed in +Jan Troell’s +The Last Sentence (2012, 125 min), which premiered at the 2013 +Palm Springs International Film Festival.

The first depicts Swedish journalist Torgny Segerstedt’s (Jesper Christensen) crusade against Hitler. As editor of an economic daily he campaigned against Hitler and for Sweden’s going to war against Nazi Germany. Segerstedt contends that acquiescence to evil only nourishes it. We are responsible for what we allow, not just what we do. Despite the Swedish king’s probably correct judgment that Germany and Russia would destroy the Swedish army in a fortnight, Segerstedt sticks to his campaign. His move from Scandinavian concern to the wider European is evidenced when his new bulldog Winston succeeds the poisoned Soren (a Kierke-guard dog?). As we know, Hitler’s early sweep was facilitated by the surrender and compromises of state heads who lacked Segerstedt’s courage and clarity. In this respect the film reflects upon the current debate over how to deal with the rise of jihadist-based anti-Semitism, in which the Scandinavian countries are very much in the vanguard. How “neutral” was Sweden in WW II and what was its effect? What cost neutrality or acquiescence now?

The second moves from the political evil which Segerstedt addresses to the personal evil which he  embodies. This fiery journalist is a surprisingly unimpressive man, an academic still obsessed with having failed his thesis (on the origin of polytheism), who has been essentially made by the women to whose specters he turns after their deaths -- his mother, his wife, his wealthy Jewish intellectual mistress. Despite his open adultery he seems so insecure in his manhood that he keeps two huge mastiffs and the massive bulldog. 

In fact our hero has created himself by exploiting then tossing away the two women who most empowered and influenced him, his wife and his mistress. Bereft early of his mother, Segerstedt never learned how to love. He can only use the women to bolster his potency (which also colours his political aggressiveness). When sucking dry his mistress, he treats his wife “like air,” his daughter observes. When his wife kills herself he rushes to the window to gasp -- for air. His wife and mistress kill themselves, but he imagines them proudly applauding his honours at his 65th birthday celebration, when he rides a large papier mache horse, armed with his pen lance and garlanded.  In this celebration the crusader shrinks to Don Quixote, tilting windmills, futile, self-deluded.To dispel the three women scepters he shoots his cartoon self in the heart. His virginal young secretary is his new instrument of vain self-respect. His last sentence -- before dying of a heart attack -- is “Hitler. Hitler. Is he dead?” Yes, his daughter lies. So our campaigning hero dies deluded. He is equally deluded when he thinks he defeated Hitler and when he thinks he loved.  

Troell shot the film in black and white. That’s the familiar mode for Hitler footage and also for the noirish exploration of the dark, troubled psyche. The beautiful nature scenes, especially the shimmering flowing streams, are an objective correlative both to the turgid flow of human history and to the compromised subconscious. As the dark waters flow, they confirm Segerstedt’s worry that he only wrote in sand, to no lasting effect. Of course fascism continues and new Hitlers arise to persuade new compromisers.