Alright, fellow tape trackers, dim the lights, maybe crack open a lukewarm soda that’s been sitting beside the VCR, and let’s talk about a different kind of cinematic warfare. Before the era of multi-billion dollar franchises felt inescapable, Denmark had its own reliable, recurring blockbuster engine: the Olsen Gang. Popping the tape of The Olsen Gang Goes to War (or Olsen-banden går i krig, 1978) into the machine always felt like settling in with old friends – albeit friends who were perpetually hatching wildly optimistic, inevitably flawed criminal schemes. This tenth outing for the trio is pure, distilled Olsen Gang magic.

For the uninitiated (and where have you been?), the setup is comfortingly familiar. Mastermind Egon Olsen, played with perpetually exasperated genius by the legendary Ove Sprogøe, emerges from prison yet again, bowler hat firmly planted, cigarillo smoldering, and carrying the plan. This time, it involves navigating the treacherous waters of the European Economic Community (EEC) bureaucracy – a uniquely late-70s target – to intercept illicit funds related to butter quotas. Yes, butter. Only Egon could make agricultural subsidies sound like the score of the century.
His loyal, if often panicky, crew is back: the lanky, ever-optimistic Benny (Morten Grunwald), whose catchphrase "Skidegodt!" ("Bloody good!") punctuates every minor success or near-disaster, and the perpetually worried Kjeld (Poul Bundgaard), clutching his trusty midwife bag and swayed as much by his formidable wife Yvonne (Kirsten Walther) as by Egon's criminal brilliance. Yvonne, by the way, remains one of cinema's great unsung forces of nature, her domestic concerns hilariously juxtaposed against the gang's illegal endeavors.

What always struck me about these films, even watching them on a slightly worn VHS copy with questionable tracking, was the sheer precision of the comedy. Director Erik Balling, who co-wrote this entry with his long-time collaborator Henning Bahs (they were the architects behind nearly all 14 films!), crafts these capers like intricate clockwork mechanisms. There's less emphasis on explosive action and more on meticulous timing, visual gags, and the hilarious predictability of human error. Remember how Egon's plans always seemed foolproof on paper, usually involving some ridiculously specific gadget sourced from a joke shop or Kjeld's home? The Olsen Gang Goes to War is packed with these moments.
The "action," such as it is, feels delightfully tangible. We're not talking Michael Bay explosions here. Instead, it's about the tension of sneaking past a guard, the physical comedy of Benny trying to drive some outlandish vehicle, or Kjeld nearly fainting from stress. It’s all practical, grounded in the slightly drab, utterly charming reality of 1970s Copenhagen. There's a real sense of place, from the bustling city streets to the slightly soulless office buildings housing their targets. Forget CGI – the most advanced special effect here is probably Benny's impossibly cheerful yellow socks.
While it's primarily a comedy, there's a gentle undercurrent of satire running through The Olsen Gang Goes to War. The digs at bureaucracy, corporate greed (personified by their recurring nemesis Bang-Johansen), and the absurdities of the modern world feel sharp even today. It’s a snapshot of anxieties particular to its time – the burgeoning Common Market, economic shifts – viewed through the lens of three endearing small-time crooks just trying to get ahead. It’s amazing to think these films weren't just huge hits in Denmark, but found massive audiences in places like East Germany, where Egon’s anti-authoritarian spirit must have struck a particular chord. The film was, unsurprisingly, another box office smash in its homeland.
The chemistry between Sprogøe, Grunwald, and Bundgaard is, as always, the heart of the film. After ten films together, they inhabited these roles so completely, their interactions felt effortless and utterly believable. You genuinely root for these guys, even when Egon is berating them for the umpteenth time after a plan inevitably goes sideways.
The Olsen Gang Goes to War isn't about pyrotechnics or death-defying stunts in the way we usually think of 80s/90s action. Its thrills come from intricate planning, character comedy, and the suspense of whether the gang can finally pull one off without everything collapsing around them (spoiler: probably not entirely). It’s a testament to the enduring power of a simple formula executed with wit, charm, and impeccable timing by a cast and crew completely in sync. It represents a specific, wonderful kind of European popular cinema that often graced the shelves of those beloved rental stores, offering a different flavour from Hollywood imports.
Rating: 8/10 - This rating reflects the film's near-perfect execution of its specific comedic formula, the brilliant chemistry of the leads, its clever satire, and its status as a prime example of this beloved franchise. It’s pure comfort viewing, brilliantly crafted within its charmingly low-key world.
Final Thought: Forget the blockbusters for a night; sometimes the most satisfying heist is the one involving Danish butter subsidies, a bowler hat, and the unshakeable belief that this time, the plan is absolutely foolproof. A true gem from the pre-digital caper era.