Swedish

The Swedish Navy, the largest surface combatant of which is currently the Visby class corvette, is gearing up to place an order for four frigates. These would be the Swedish Navy’s largest warships since it gave up its last destroyers back in the early 1980s. The planned frigates reflect Sweden’s expanding naval ambitions since joining NATO and are also expected to stress anti-air warfare capabilities, something that’s of growing interest to the Swedish Navy.

Swedish Minister of Defense Pål Jonson said today that a final decision on the four-frigate buy is likely early next year. “We’re looking at what frigates there are that are available, that would also suit our quite ambitious timeline,” Jonson said. He added that the plan was to have two frigates in service “ideally by 2030” and another two by 2035.

The Defense Materiel Administration (FMV), Sweden’s defense procurement organization, has completed a market survey on available frigates, but has yet to make a final decision. Bearing in mind the ambitious timeline, an off-the-shelf design will be selected. The decision to acquire a warship significantly larger than the stealthy Visby class was made last year, at which point a foreign design became the only realistic option. The new vessels will be named the Luleå class.

Jonson was speaking today after a meeting in Stockholm with his French counterpart, Catherine Vautrin, who offered to supply Sweden with a first fully equipped frigate in 2030. This would be a version of the Naval Group’s new Frégate de Défense et d’Intervention (FDI), or defense and intervention frigate, an unorthodox design with an inverted bow, which you can read more about here.

Other items discussed by Jonson and Vautrin included French interest in the Saab GlobalEye airborne early warning and control (AEW&C) aircraft, as well as aid to Ukraine.

The FDI was first formally offered to Sweden last month, and, if selected, it would be built in partnership with the Swedish defense industry, in particular, Saab.

In terms of the role of the new Swedish frigate, Jonson confirmed today that they will have a significant anti-air warfare function, reflecting the nation’s plan to join NATO’s Integrated Air and Missile Defense (IAMD) program. The alliance’s investment in this network has been stepped up in response to Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine, with NATO deploying additional IAMD capabilities to NATO’s eastern flank.

The Swedish Navy is already making efforts to expand its anti-air warfare capabilities with an update to its five Visby class corvettes, which adds the Sea Ceptor, also known as the Common Anti-air Modular Missile (CAMM) — a surface-to-air missile that can engage a wide variety of threats.

The anti-air warfare focus would appear to put the FDI in a strong position for the Swedish requirement. As we have described in the past, the primary anti-air weapon of the French warship is the Aster surface-to-air missile, 16 of which are carried in a pair of eight-cell launchers — later vessels will be able to carry 32 by doubling the number of launchers.

The combat-proven Aster is available in two main versions. The smaller Aster 15 has a range of around 18 miles, while the larger Aster 30 is able to engage targets at more than 75 miles. Recent improvements to the Aster 30 include enhancing its capabilities against anti-ship ballistic missiles (ASBMs), a relatively new type of threat.

The FDI uses a Thales Sea Fire radar to support its air defense mission out to a significant range.

Comparing the Visby class and the FDI, the Swedish design has a displacement of 705 tons and a length of 238 feet 6 inches, while the French warship has a displacement of 4,390 tons and is 400 feet 3 inches long.

In the past, another option for the future Luleå class was expected to be a development of the British Type 31 frigate design, proposed by a partnership of Saab and Babcock. According to an agreement between the two companies, Saab would develop the basic design for the frigate, while Babcock would provide support with engineering, structural design, and auxiliary systems. However, the current status of this collaboration is unclear.

Another likely contender for the Swedish requirement is Spain’s Navantia. This manufacturer offers a variety of frigates that cover a range from just over 2,200 tons displacement to ships above 6,000 tons. Designs include the Spanish Navy’s recently launched F110 class frigate, also known as the Bonifaz class. As you can read about here, this warship is notable for its combination of high-end anti-submarine warfare functions paired with anti-air warfare abilities and its distinctive tall mast, mounting elements of a sophisticated radar system.

The last time that the Swedish Navy operated a surface combatant approaching this kind of size was back in the early 1980s. The Östergötland was the Swedish Navy’s last class of destroyers, originally built in the late 1950s. These had a fully loaded displacement of 2,600 tons and were 367 feet 5 inches long, somewhat smaller than the preceding Halland class, which had a fully loaded displacement of 3,291 tons and a length of 398 feet 11 inches. The last examples of these two classes of destroyers were decommissioned in 1982.

As part of the French drive to export the FDI frigate to Sweden, the first-of-class Amiral Ronarc’h will visit the Swedish port of Gothenburg early next year. France has already secured sales of the warship to Greece, which is buying four, on top of the five planned for the French Navy.

For the Swedish Navy, the primary area of operation has been the Baltic theater, an area of resurgent strategic relevance, as the host to regular and sometimes hostile Russian military activity, maritime, airborne, and also increasingly in the ‘gray zone’ or hybrid warfare.

A new frigate with enhanced anti-air warfare capabilities will be better able to protect itself, other vessels, and even shore areas or islands, against threats from the air. The overwhelming numbers of crewed aircraft, drones, and missiles that Russia could potentially put up in a conflict involving Sweden have been a significant concern even before the country joined NATO.

Already, much of the Swedish Air Force’s mode of operation is based on being best prepared to leverage smaller numbers to deal with a potential large-scale Russian aerial attack. As a result, the Swedish Air Force has long sought to develop innovative technologies and tactics that would allow it, as a much smaller air arm, to be able to put up significant resistance.

The four new frigates should further that ambition, but would also allow operations far outside the Baltic, including into the wider North Atlantic region, reflecting Sweden’s developing military ambitions as it becomes a more established NATO member.

Once it gets its new frigates, the Swedish Armed Forces will be better prepared to face any kind of contingency in the Baltic region or elsewhere, and it will be interesting to see whether they opt for the FDI frigate or a rival design.

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Renate Reinsve is the new face of Scandinavia: depression with a smile. Standing 5 feet 10 with open, friendly features, the Norwegian talent has a grin that makes her appear at once like an endearing everywoman and a large, unpredictable child. Reinsve zoomed to international acclaim with her Cannes-winning performance in Joachim Trier’s 2021 “The Worst Person in the World,” a dramedy tailor-made to her lanky, likable style of self-loathing. Now, Trier has written his muse another showcase, “Sentimental Value,” where Reinsve plays an emotionally avoidant theater actor who bounces along in pretty much the same bittersweet key.

“Sentimental Value” gets misty about a few things — families, filmmaking, real estate — all while circling a handsome Oslo house where the Borg clan has lived for four generations. It’s a dream home with red trim on the window frames and pink roses in the yard. Yet, sisters Nora (Reinsve) and Agnes (Inga Ibsdotter Lilleaas) aren’t fighting to keep it, perhaps due to memories of their parents’ hostile divorce or maybe because they don’t want to deal with their estranged father, Gustav (Stellan Skarsgård, wonderful), who grew up there himself and still owns the place, even though he’s moved to Sweden.

Trier opens the film with a symbolically laden camera pan across Oslo that ends on a cemetery. He wants to make sure we understand that while Norway looks idyllic to outsiders jealous that all four Scandinavian countries rank among the globe’s happiest, it can still be as gloomy as during the era of Henrik Ibsen.

More impressively, Trier shifts to a fabulous, time-bending historical montage of the house itself over the century-plus it’s belonged to the Borgs. There’s a crack in it that seems to represent the fissures in the family, the flaws in their facade. Over these images, Reinsve’s Nora recites a 6th-grade school essay she wrote about her deep identification with her childhood home. Having grown up to become terrified of intimacy, today she’s more like a detached garage.

Nora and Agnes were young when their father, a modestly well-regarded art-house filmmaker, decamped to a different country. At a retrospective of his work, Gustav refers to his crew as his “family,” which would irritate his kids if they’d bothered to attend. Agnes, a former child actor, might note that she, too, deserves some credit. Played in her youth by the compelling Ida Atlanta Kyllingmark Giertsen, Agnes was fantastic in the final shot of Gustav’s masterpiece and Trier takes a teasingly long time to suggest why she retired from the business decades ago, while her older sister keeps hammering at it.

Gustav hasn’t made a picture in 15 years. He’s in that liminal state of renown that I’m guessing Trier has encountered many times: a faded director who’s burned through his money and clout, but still keeps a tuxedo just in case he makes it back to Cannes. Like Reinsve’s Nora, Gustav acts younger than his age and is at his most charming in small doses, particularly with strangers. Trier and his longtime co-writer Eskil Vogt have made him a tad delusional, someone who wouldn’t instantly recognize his graying reflection in a mirror. Sitting down at a cafe with Nora, Gustav jokes that the waitress thinks that they’re a couple on a date. (She almost certainly doesn’t.)

But the tension between Gustav and Nora is real, if blurry. He’s invited her to coffee not as father and daughter, but as a has-been angling to cast Nora as the lead of his next film, which he claims he’s written for her. His script climaxes with a nod to the day his own mother, Karin (Vilde Søyland), died by suicide in their house back when he was just a towheaded boy of 7. Furthering the sickly mojo, Gustav wants to stage his version of the hanging in the very room where it happened.

His awkward pitch is a terrific scene. Gustav and Nora are stiff with each other, both anxious to prove they don’t need the other’s help. But Trier suggests, somewhat mystically, that Gustav has an insight into his daughter’s gloom that making the movie will help them understand. Both would rather express themselves through art than confess how they feel.

When Gustav offers his daughter career advice, it comes off like an insult. She’s miffed when her dad claims his small indie would be her big break. Doesn’t he know she’d be doing him the favor? She’s the lead of Oslo’s National Theatre with enough of a social media following to get the film financed. (With 10 production companies listed in the credits of this very film, Trier himself could probably calculate Nora’s worth to the krone.)

But Gustav also has a lucky encounter with a dewy Hollywood starlet named Rachel (Elle Fanning) who sees him as an old-world bulldog who can give her resume some class. Frustrated by her coterie of assistants glued to their cellphones, Rachel gazes at him with the glowy admiration he can’t get from his own girls. Their dynamic proves to be just as complex as if they were blood-related. If Rachel makes his film, she’ll become a combo platter of his mother, his daughter, his protégée and his cash cow. Nora merely merits the financing for a low-budget Euro drama; Rachel can make it a major Netflix production (something “Sentimental Value” most adamantly is not).

It takes money to make a movie. Trier’s itchiness to get into that unsentimental fact isn’t fully scratched. He seems very aware that the audience for his kind of niche hit wants to sniffle at delicate emotions. When Gustav’s longtime producer Michael (Jesper Christensen) advises him to keep making films “his way” — as in antiquated — or when Gustav takes a swipe at Nora’s career as “old plays for old people,” the frustration in those lines, those doubts whether to stay the course or chase modernity, makes you curious if Trier himself is feeling a bit hemmed in.

There’s a crack running through “Sentimental Value” too. A third of it wants to be a feisty industry satire, but the rest believes there’s prestige value in tugging on the heartstrings. The title seems to be as much about that as anything.

I’ve got no evidence for Trier’s restlessness other than an observation that “Sentimental Value” is most vibrant when the dialogue is snide and the visuals are snappy. There’s a stunning image of Gustav, Nora and Agnes’ faces melting together that doesn’t match a single other frame of the movie, but I’m awful glad cinematographer Kasper Tuxen Andersen got it in there.

The film never quite settles on a theme, shifting from the relationship between Nora and Agnes, Nora and Gustav, and Gustav and Rachel like a gambler spreading their bets, hoping one of those moments will earn a tear. Nora herself gets lost in the shuffle. Is she jealous of her father’s attention to Rachel? Does she care about her married lover who pops up to expose her issues? Does she even like acting?

Reinsve’s skyrocketing career is Trier’s most successful wager and he gives her enough crying scenes to earn an Oscar nomination. Skarsgård is certainly getting one too. But Fanning delivers the best performance in the film. She’s not only hiding depression under a smile, she’s layering Rachel’s megawatt charisma under her eagerness to please, allowing her insecurity at being Gustav’s second pick to poke through in rehearsals where she’s almost — but not quite — up to the task.

Rachel could have been some Hollywood cliché, but Fanning keeps us rooting for this golden girl who hopes she’ll be taken seriously by playing a Nordic depressive. Eventually, she slaps on a silly Norwegian accent in desperation and wills herself to cry in character. And when she does, Fanning has calibrated her sobs to have a hint of hamminess. It’s a marvelous detail that makes this whole type of movie look a little forced.