It was pure coincidence that Max Manus: Man Of War came up in my Netflix queue just a few days after the bloodbath in Norway, whose perpetrator, Anders Barfing Breivik, named its main character as one of his heroes. That fact, needless to say, is entirely irrelevant. Max Manus did indeed blow things up, and performed some assassinations (something not touched on in the movie), but he never murdered the children of collaborators.

Max Manus (English title Max Manus: Man Of War) is a 2008 film dramatization of the wartime adventures of a Norwegian Resistance hero. I appreciated it as a refreshingly traditional war movie. Some European critics complained that it was too black and white. I don’t really imagine they wanted the Nazis treated more positively. I expect what they wanted was for the film makers to say that the Resistance was just as bad. Me, I say good for the film makers.

The movie (subtitled in English) opens with brief footage of Max fighting in Finland in 1940, where he has volunteered to help fight the Russian invasion. Then he’s back in Oslo, a newly occupied city. He and his friends want to fight the Nazis, but all they can think of to do is start an underground newspaper, which frustrates the action-oriented Max.

But when he’s arrested in his apartment by the police, carrying a rucksack full of illegal papers, he takes the action that gives birth to his legend—he dives through a second-story window, breaking his shoulder and giving himself a concussion. The Germans take him to a hospital, from which he manages to escape, and he makes his way to Scotland to join a company of Norwegians training to be saboteurs. He returns to Norway with his friend Gregers, and they blow up a German ship. Then they flee over the border to neutral Sweden, where he meets the woman he will eventually marry.

As I understand it, the movie (which has a very authentic look) hews pretty closely to the historical record, though a few liberties are taken, as they always are. The major change they made from Manus’ two published autobiographies was to leave out a number of events. Risks are run (Max was famous his risk taking and his luck), good people die and bad people die, and Max finishes out his service with the greatest act of sabotage of his life.

The film’s psychological realism is impressive. Max accomplishes all the things he does in spite of what we’d today call PTSD, nightmares, insomnia, and a drinking problem. At one point he talks of praying to God, seeking an answer as to why he survived when other, better men died.

But in the end he finds meaning in a sense of accomplishment, and in his love for his liberated country. A very old-fashioned sort of conclusion, which pleased me exceedingly.

One point that interested me was that the actor playing Max, Aksel Hennie—who’s very good—looks absolutely nothing like the real Max. This is understandable when you consider that the real Max was a pretty goofy-looking fellow, with a weak chin and jug ears (this picture is quite flattering):

But I would think someone who resembled, say, Lance Hendrickson (who’s of Norwegian ancestry, though way too old for the part) would have been a better choice, purely from a visual perspective.

But that’s a quibble. I enjoyed the movie very much on its own terms. I honestly don’t recall whether I need to caution you about language (any cursing is in Norwegian in any case), but violence is certainly a concern (though low-key by contemporary American cinematic standards). Max’s love affair with a married woman is a matter of concern for Christians.

Otherwise, recommended.