Blücher: Procedural Justice or Bureaucracy?

A low-budget yet high-quality film set during World War II. IMDb here.

The opening pace of the film is somewhat slow, primarily focusing on the protagonist’s domestic life, yet this effectively sets the stage for the heightened tension that unfolds during the war sequences later on. The battle scenes remain profoundly moving. One is struck by how truly accomplished directors can achieve effects rivalling Hollywood blockbusters on considerably smaller budgets.

Warning: The following contains spoilers. If you haven’t watched this film yet, I’d strongly recommend doing so before coming back to this blog.

Before watching this film, I had no idea that Bjørn Sundquist, who played Colonel Birger Eriksen (the commander of Oscarsborg Fortress who made the pivotal decision to open fire on the German heavy cruiser Blücher despite lacking clear orders), was such a talented actor. Especially in this scene:

In this brief, about one-minute close-up of his face, lead actor Bjørn Sundquist masterfully conveys complex emotions that encapsulate the entire film’s tone. Much like the actor portraying the Joker in the second installment of Nolan’s Batman trilogy, it’s hard to imagine anyone surpassing his performance.

Though the battle scenes were few, they were thoroughly thrilling. Especially when the shells struck the German warship — it even gave me the illusion of being right there in the thick of it.

Yet, what truly caught my attention in the plot, however, was not the combat scenes, but the Norwegian government’s accountability measures against Colonel Eriksen. Admittedly, he rashly ordered an attack without sufficient intelligence; admittedly, he surrendered to the Germans without any casualties in his troops despite orders to hold the fortress as long as possible, and signed the surrender document; admittedly, he must explain for this. But this does not mean the Norwegian government can take the high ground, shift all responsibility onto the colonel, and evade accountability itself. Is this accountability procedural justice? Undoubtedly. But is it fair? Clearly not. If the colonel is to be held accountable, then the incompetent, inept, and irresponsible government that was merely occupying positions without fulfilling its duties at the time should be held even more accountable.

It is heartening that director Daniel Fahre has masterfully captured this bureaucracy — a term originating in Europe — on film, preserving it for posterity and prompting profound reflection on this chapter of history.

So let’s return to the blog title: Was the Norwegian government’s accountability back then procedural justice or bureaucracy? I believe it was both.