
In the fight for abortion and female empowerment, The Girl with the Needle doesn’t shy away from the darkness of that struggle in 1919 Denmark. Not just the darkness of women being forced to have these procedures behind closed doors but the bitterness that brews internally when trying to assert amid tough times. The limited freedoms are given a grim and grimy depiction with how hard it was to do anything in a poor, post-war society, be it choosing a lover or aborting a baby.
There’s plenty of dimension to the lead character of Karoline (Vic Carmen Sonne), a working woman of Copenhagen while her husband, Peter (Besir Zeciri), serves during the war. Uncertain of his fate and desiring a better life, she forms a romantic bond with her boss, Jørgen (Joachim Fjelstrup). Though the relationship develops, it is ultimately terminated by Jørgen’s family, who disapprove of her status. Her consolation prize is a pregnancy she doesn’t want and a returning husband brutalized by war. Not desiring either, she ends her relationship and seeks to get rid of her pregnancy. The latter is easier said than done, as an attempt to stab the fetus in a bathhouse goes awry.
Karoline receives some help from Dagmar (Trine Dyrholm), a woman who runs a sweet shop with a baby surrendering as a side hustle. Karoline utilizes Dagmar’s secret service to dispose of her child and decides to work for her as a wet nurse, considering she can’t pay. The world of baby surrendering only grows more grim as Karoline forms an uncomfortable relationship with Dagmar’s daughter, Erena, and later learns the hideous secret of Dagmar’s operations. Long story short, Dagmar is performing mercy killings on babies she can’t care for or find homes. It’s a shocking revelation, but one that is divulged with the bitter realization that there is no other option.
Director Magnus von Horn leans hard into the gritty and haunting nature of this period drama, portrayed in searing black and white. There is not a hint of melodrama as every aspect of this depressed society is showcased for all the hopelessness. Koraline and Dagmar do not treat the surrendering of children as a noble effort but a last resort. The weariness of this profession makes them grow only more forlorn, drowning away the drownings with doses of ether. Tumbling down with them is Erena, never blinking from the horrors that her mother performs in the name of helping desperate women. Even attempts to escape the hellish existence of a Denmark that has little care for the rights of women seem to fail. All of the economic and social issues boil in a seal pot of contained feminine rage, spilling over in either loud rants or courage acts of sticking up for the next generation of women, hoping they won’t resort to needles and back alley abortions to feel safe.
The Girl with the Needle yells instead of whisper with its desperation for oppressed women. The messiness of this story set a century ago is sadly as poignant today as it would’ve been in the era it was set. With the erosion of abortion rights and the freedom of women dwindling by the day, there is a sad familiarity. The daily concerns of this Denmark are that of finding poor-paying jobs, dehumanizing gigs, pregnancies at work, infanticide in the shadows, and drug addiction in the worst moments. These are pains we all feel today and this film has the guts to scream that this is not okay and you should be fucking furious that this is the world we’ve been forced to with in. It doesn’t have to be that way, but the first step is to admitting the faults of our world, which this film points out with vicious force and stunning filmmaking.