‘The Guest’ review: Trine Dyrholm is magnetic at the heart of knotty Danish domestic drama

Dir. Mads Mengel. Denmark. 2026. 99mins

The naming ceremony for the baby son of Karl (Simon Bennebjerg) and his wife Emilie (Mette Klakstein Wiberg) is a tasteful affair, held in a chic seaside hotel on the Danish coast, with a seasonally appropriate menu and a carefully curated guest list. But the one aspect that cannot be micromanaged is the unexpected appearance of Karl’s estranged mother Vibeke (Trine Dyrholm), who hopes to reclaim her place within her son’s family. Superbly acted and supremely uncomfortable, this assured feature debut by Mads Mengel is the kind of knotty, nuanced domestic drama that the Danish film industry has traditionally excelled at producing.

Superbly acted and supremely uncomfortable

Dyrholm’s name, and the intense, unpredictable magnetism of the character she plays so impressively, will be the main draw for programmers and perhaps arthouse distributors following the film’s premiere in Karlovy Vary’s Crystal Globe competition. But this is an ensemble work that succeeds on the complex interplay of the well-judged performances rather than on one actor alone. As such, it has a kinship with the abrasive family dramas from Thomas Vinterberg, in particular Festen.

Mengel, who cut his teeth with several short films and some television (notably the four-part murder mystery mini-series Suplex), elegantly balances a film about the intersection between a personality and a psychiatric condition, and about the impact of an individual’s mental illness on a wider family. Scanbox is handling Nordic distribution.

Karl and his sister Rikke (Josephine Park) have very different ways of dealing with their demanding, damaged mother. Karl has excised her from his life. He has been welcomed into his in-law’s inner circle, and has made a success of a job leasing vehicles in his father-in-law’s automotive business. He has, it seems, all the family he needs. Which leaves Rikke, like so many women, to take on the role of carer. She sees her mother several times a week and is finely attuned to the tells that reveal when Vibeke is in the grip of her unspecified condition or if she has stopped taking her meds.

It is a thankless task. Vibeke makes no secret of the fact Rikke is a disappointment to her and that Karl is her favoured child. Vibeke’s arrival at the event is partly Rikke’s fault. She was never, her brother says bitterly, able to set boundaries with Vibeke. But boundaries are a whole lot easier to enforce when you are not the emergency contact number that is called every time your mother spins off her axis. 

Vibeke, it becomes clear, is an unwanted guest at the naming ceremony for more than just the risk she will upend the event with her erratic behaviour. She is also a catalyst that triggers and magnifies the tensions and long-simmering grudges between her children. David Bauer’s agile handheld camera dances skittishly around the breakfast table when Vibeke, with a blinding smile, makes her unexpected entrance. Silent looks are exchanged between Karl and Rikke, and they speak volumes. Karl’s in-laws, meanwhile, are charmed by this sunny, talkative woman who, for some reason, they have never met.

Key to the film’s success is the fact  Dyrholm’s performance so effectively blurs the line between acceptable and unacceptable behaviour. Her wild stories, her playful criticism of her children, it all seems fresh and engaging to someone untutored in her ways. To her kids, however, these are the warning signs that signal a storm on the horizon. But there are also disarming moments of generosity and warmth that surprise her kids; moments that encourage Karl to look beyond the fortress he has built to protect himself and perhaps construct a bridge instead.