Forbrydelser

Two years after her tragicomedy, SMÅ ULYKKER (MINOR MISHAPS), Annette K. Olesen has made a film that may well astonish filmgoers because, in the words of co-writer, Kim Fupz Aakeson, it is deliberately intended as a “feel bad movie”.
Anna is a theologian and is married to Frank. She would have loved to have had children, but the dear Lord decided it was not to be. Anna is offered a job standing in for a chaplain at a prison; her particular responsibility is the women’s block. These women are not exactly God’s obedient children. One of the women for whom she is to provide spiritual welfare is Kate, who has just been transferred from another prison. There’s something very special about Kate, who shows no signs of wanting to talk about either her past or her crime. Another inmate, Marion, claims to have heard that Kate possesses certain powers and when Marion asks Kate to help her get over her drug problem, this only serves to confirm the rumours.
The uncrowned queen of the women’s wing is Jossi, who supplies her fellow-prisoners with drugs. She’s far from enthusiastic about Kate’s abilities – healing powers are bad for business. In the meantime, Kate continues to rebuff all Anna’s attempts to get to know her better. Instead, Anna finds herself drawn towards Henrik, a rather taciturn warden, who perceives Anna’s vulnerability beneath the reserved exterior.
And then Anna suddenly discovers she is pregnant. However, her delight is short-lived when a doctor’s examination reveals that her child could be born with certain disabilities. Anna doesn’t know what to do. Should she abort the child? Or should she have faith in her God and accept her unborn child as he or she is? Should she ask Kate to help her, since her hands seem to have such magical healing properties?