‘No Rest for the Wicked’ Is Your New Sexy Evil Romance Blueprint [Fantasia Review]

What danger lurks in the mist? It’s an age-old question explored by horror lovers, whose answer comes forth fearfully and sensually in No Rest for the Wicked. Set in the Faroe Islands, this 19th-century tale directed by Kasper Kalle tells the story of Baldur (Egor Venned), a fatherless young man who makes his living as a fisherman for himself and his mother, Alsa (Sofia Nolsøe Mikkelsen). Their paradigms shift when Helge (Pilou Asbæk) blows into town. Mother Alsa takes a liking to Helge and the listless whaler takes a liking to her son. No Rest For The Wicked is based on Karl Heinrich Ulrichs’ short story Manor — a work which director Kalle calls a “cornerstone” in queer history, acknowledging still that few people know the story exists.

Even without the supernatural element, this dynamic was already a recipe for disaster. Comparisons have already been drawn to Portrait of a Lady on Fire. If you like Céline Sciamma’s film and similar torrid gay romances, like horror auteur Luca Guadagnino’s first big splash, Call Me By Your Name, you’ll love No Rest for the Wicked. 

The delicious melodrama unfolds against a backdrop that is perplexing. The Faroe Islands are so open. The sky is always visible, unmarred by densely packed residences, buildings of industry, or even trees. This detail is crucial. When Baldur asks Helge to describe experiencing a tree, Helge tells Baldur that the bark feels like the beard of a man. Swoon. But No Rest for the Wicked manages to still be an ecosexual fever dream, showcasing crashing waves, bubbling streams, and the wild flora that springs up across crags.

Somehow, despite all of this openness, there is always an uneasiness lurking beneath the surface in No Rest for the Wicked. The conspiratorial glances shared between Alsa and Baldur, Helge and Baldur, and Alsa and Helge make you sick with anxiety as to how this will all play out. It’s undeniable that Alsa sees Helge as a potential father figure, but of course, he has other plans. He’s a devilish kind of fellow — seducing Baldur and us viewers with his quick wit, sharp grin, and sensuous way of being. 

But there’s something sweet about the way Helge pulls Baldur out of his tightly wound tendencies and, through tales of his travels, paints the world so much bigger than Baldur could have imagined. No matter. Kalle builds up our hopes just to prick it with a pin. The weight of patriarchal norms, the vice grip of religious obligation, and the pesky fear of the unknown prevent Baldur from joining Helge in his imminent swashbuckling adventure. Adding insult to injury, a terrible tempest wipes out a litany of seafaring folk — chief among them Helge.