Out of all the countless films and shows I've watched over the course of my life, there's barely a single one that felt like such an obvious insult to any reasonable viewer and reason itself.
Written by one of europes most notorious rad-fems (a man btw), this film seems to be some kind of attempt to "deconstruct" Hamsun as a person by people who seemingly hated him and had him live rentfree in their head for decades.
The film isn't called "Knut Hamsun" but "Hamsun" for a reason. It's all about his wife and written from her radical feminist, jealous, bitter and angry perspective (allthough his children and every other living being seem to hate him as well in this fever dream of a film).
The whole thing is an almost Ibsen-like (that's an insult) moral play, superficial, one-sided and always playing/turning men and women against each other.
You have to search with a magnifying glas in order to find one single scene that is at least somewhat realistic or one that doesn't just exist in order to stamp on Hamsuns grave when he can't defend himself.
It doesn't take a Hamsun fan, nor an academic who dedicated himself to Hamsun for a long time (like me) in order to see through this film after just 5 minutes.
Ironicly, the more the film tries to throw dirt on Hamsun, the more likable and human he gets. Especially since he's literally the only person in the film who isn't driven by obsessive, pathological moralism and self-righteousness.
All that said, I want to end this review with a friendly suggestion: Whatever you do, read the books of a writer for gods sake, not books about him. And avoid films about him since they are mostly too flattering or evil-spirited anyway.
