Frida Kempff’s breathtaking biopic of Swedish swimming sensation, Sally Bauer, opens with failure. Bauer (Josefin Neldén) is gasping for air; we can almost feel the ache in her arms as she struggles to keep her head above the water. She is pulled onto the deck of a small boat. Her eyes are swollen, she is shivering, she is defeated.
It’s a highly visceral opening to a film about someone who many will never have heard of. But Sally Bauer was the first Scandinavian (and only the fourth woman) to swim the English Channel. We meet her in The Swedish Torpedo in 1939, as the shadow of war continues to gather overhead. She is determined to beat a world record on the Kattegat strait before moving onto the Channel itself. She is completely unsupported by her mother and sister, who see her as a failure to her young son, Lars (Arthur Sörbring). Her lover, Henry (Mikkel Boe Følsgaard), although invested in her athletic feats, remains very much the doting family man. In amongst all of this ambition and frustration, Sally is struggling to make ends meet.
Kempff presents us a world of domestic drudgery, where working class women must go to “housewife school”, complete with frumpy uniforms and head coverings, in order to have any chance in life. Bauer’s apartment is dark, freezing and the wallpaper positively ripples with damp. She must sell her only winter coat in order to make ends meet, after her mother refuses to help her financially. Rumblings of impending war are heard through snippets of radio news bulletins. The world she inhabits is full of insipid brows, cold greys and sterile creams. But when she reaches a shoreline, we are transported to her happy place. The golden glow of the sun appears; the waves gently lap at her feet; even the score becomes wistful.
Josefin Neldén is a revelation in the leading role. We can feel her palpable frustration at her lack of support. No one else seems to understand how much of an escape the sea gives her; how her ambition is positively burning inside her. Her ability as a mother is repeatedly called into question purely because she has goals in life. She is desperate but focused; motherly but clear in her own ambitions. This is not a hagiography; it’s a very well rounded picture of a sporting hero, without fear to showcase her flaws and mistakes. It’s also a very physical turn from Neldén, who spends most of her time in the seemingly endless grey of the Kattegat strait.
It’s in the water where Kempff and cinematographer Hannes Krantz really bring this otherwise straightforward biopic to life. The lashing rain, the lack of visibility and the cold are realised through a soundscape that dips below sea level. We see and hear exactly what Bauer does, plunging us underwater in unenviable temperatures. We hear her spluttering and choking; the throb of her arms as she batters against the waves. A side by side shot of Bauer and her competitor, Hjalmar Lind (Ivar Forsling), is visually striking as only a lantern lights their tired bodies in the black of the sea.
What Kempff also underlines is the everyday sexism Bauer faced as a woman in her sporting field. We get a charming scene, wherein a young woman asks Bauer for her autograph, telling her, “ I want you to know, there are none braver than you.” This is quickly undercut by the next scene, in which Bauer is standing on a stage, in make up and a swimming costume whilst potential sponsors (all men) discuss her as if she weren’t there. We get a gorgeous close up of Neldén’s taut jaw as two sponsors debate whether their logo would look good on her breasts. It’s an odious but highly pointed scene, reducing Bauer and her achievements to nothing more than a place for men to advertise their goods.
The Swedish Torpedo focuses on all of the personal hardships that form a champion. The archival footage at the end of the film shows Bauer, greased up and wading into the Channel. Five days later, World War Two broke out and Bauer would have to wait until 1951 to repeat her achievements. The final shot shows her in a polka dot dress, clutching a bouquet of flowers, cheered on by adoring crowds. At last, then, some recognition.
The Swedish Torpedo has its UK premiere at the Glasgow Film Festival 2025.