Warning: This post contains spoilers from The Girl with the Needle.
The Girl with the Needle has all the tenets of an early 1900s horror film. In parts, it reminded me of the first adaptation of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. It was also reminiscent of Luis Buñuel’s work, a pioneering filmmaker known for his surrealist style and social critique. I did a module on Spanish film in college and remember being particularly disturbed by a scene in Un Chien Andalou where a woman’s eye is slashed by a razor. Close-ups of the eye were a Buñuel trademark – a motif von Horn also repeats here.
Despite being set in post-WWI Denmark, filming for The Girl with the Needle largely took place in Poland, with a few additional scenes shot in Sweden. Presented in black and white with a 3:2 aspect ratio (as is typical of the genre), it’s a visually stunning project. Every single frame could be a painting, and cinematographer Michal Dymek’s use of light is exceptional. I paused the film more than once so as to fully appreciate the composition, framing, shadows and contrast.
I’ll be honest though; I was not looking forward to watching this film. I briefly Googled the title when asked if I wanted to review it and upon seeing it had already garnered significant attention, I agreed. It was only when I had been sent the screener and started looking more into the story that I realised what I had gotten myself into. Centring on the infamous story of Danish serial killer Dagmar Overbye, a woman believed to have murdered up to 26 babies, it’s quite a tough watch, to say the least. There’s also a scene in which the central protagonist tries to give herself an abortion with a needle, thereby earning herself the moniker ‘the girl with the needle’.