The Swedish Connection Review: An Uplifting Tale of Bureaucratic Bravery
The Swedish Connection presents a genial, lightly comic portrait of Gösta Engzell, the unlikely civil servant who outmanoeuvred Nazi bureaucracy with nothing but paperwork and diplomatic cunning. This real-life tale from Stockholm during the second world war showcases how one man's desk-based heroism saved tens of thousands of Jewish lives.
A Miracle of Bureaucracy
"It's a miracle!" exclaims a Swedish official at one pivotal moment. A beaming colleague corrects him: "It's bureaucracy." This exchange perfectly captures the essence of Gösta Engzell's achievement. As played by Henrik Dorsin, Engzell appears bumbling and avuncular in his comfy cardigans and dicky bow ties, yet his diplomatic pincer skills managed to stick it to the Nazi hate machine.
Engzell served in the Swedish foreign ministry during the war, operating from a tiny basement office with sewage pipes clanking above his head. Modest and unassuming, he initially toes the line, processing visas and dealing with immigration issues while his bosses strain to keep on the good side of the Germans. The unspoken rule dictates that applications from Jewish people are archived; their plight is treated as a "non-issue."
Finding Moral Compass
The film portrays Sweden's policy of neutrality during the conflict, revealing the murkier truth beneath the surface. Engzell's superiors dismiss reports of genocide as mere "rumours," prioritizing diplomatic relations over humanitarian concerns. Everything changes with the arrival of principled young colleague Rut Vogl, played by Sissela Benn.
Under Vogl's influence, Engzell finds his moral compass and directs his team to process visas for Norwegian Jews. His strategy is simple yet brilliant: anyone with a Swedish connection gets a stamp, and this approach rubs off on others. The film suggests that for good to prosper, all it takes is enough good people to take action.
Cinematic Challenges and Solutions
Let's be honest: Engzell's desk-based heroism—deploying the power of loopholes, paperwork, and diplomatic notes verbales—isn't terribly cinematic material. Co-directors Thérèse Ahlbeck and Marcus Olsson address this challenge by incorporating shots of diplomats dashing along corridors of power, huffing and puffing with urgency.
This approach contributes to the film's affable comic mood, though it sometimes jars with the seriousness of what's at stake. The Swedish Connection manages to balance these tones, creating a watchable movie with an uplifting message about individual courage within bureaucratic systems.
The film demonstrates how Engzell, initially little respected in the ministry, becomes an unlikely hero through persistence and moral conviction. His story serves as a powerful reminder that heroism can manifest in unexpected ways, even through the meticulous processing of paperwork.
The Swedish Connection arrives in UK and Irish cinemas from 13 February, with streaming availability on Netflix beginning 19 February. This period drama offers both entertainment and historical insight into one of WWII's lesser-known rescue operations.
