Summary
Number 24 powerfully portrays Gunnar Sønsteby’s heroic fight for freedom during World War II. Despite a few teething issues with the editing, the film gets the message across without compromising the story.
Number 24 (or known as Nr. 24) follows the true story of Gunnar Sønsteby (played by Sjur Vatne Brean, as seen in Viking Wolf), a man who risked his life to serve Norway’s resistance movement during World War Two against Nazi oppression. Later in life, he became a key witness and lectured students in many establishments about the real gravity of fighting oppression.
Yes, I know—the premise itself is heavy-hitting, but that summary does not give justice to the man. Luckily, Number 24 does. The movie splices the older Gunnar (Erik Hivju plays the older version) and the younger Gunnar together. In the present day, he’s telling students about his experiences fighting for freedom in World War II. The past scenes show how he navigated Oslo with the secret resistance to bring down key Nazis and military operations in Norway.
The splicing works because it presents an uneasy outlook on the effects of time and how the perception of war in the present day was far different from the events of the war. Director John Andreas Andersen raises a significant point on the “forgotten”: the sacrifices of the world at war that have shaped Europe and much of the West today.
Credit to the director for effectively honing in on Gunnar Sønsteby’s life. Many argue that we have too many World War II movies, but the more, the better. Like The Children’s Train, the more lesser-known war stories are told, the better. I’m not suggesting that Norwegians know little of Gunnar Sønsteby and his sacrifices, but I certainly knew very little of him and his uncompromising personality, which likely led to him not being caught once by the Nazis.
Number 24 is heavy on one subject in particular—freedom. During a time when our freedoms are questioned and what it means, the film opens up with Gunnar’s stance on the human concept while in conversation with his close friend, Erling Solheim. Their conversation took place before World War Two, but the rise of German Nazism was prevalent. Gunnar is surprised at how Erling’s ideology (which leans more toward Nazi ideas) trumps the requirement for freedom. He’s dismayed that Erling would consider a world whereby people are not free to have an opinion (and in the case of the premise of their discussion, “even if they are communists”).
Clearly, the director has a modern-day view of freedom and free speech and mostly extrapolates that aspect of Gunnar’s personality. In 2025, we hopelessly debate what freedom and free speech mean, and the debate is aggressively circulating on social media.
I’m a free-speech purist. Number 24 enforced my belief in this due to Gunnar Sønsteby’s character examination. The film takes his stance seriously: He refused to enjoy the fruits of life until Norway was free again: no women, no alcohol, no nuances of enjoyment. It was all-purpose, and the movie displays this soberingly and uncompromisingly.
Number 24 suffers from editing decisions in some aspects. The approach of past and present meant that the director and his team had to decide on flow. And while this feels like a minor criticism, I never got the sense of travel and journey for Gunnar. He flits between London and Oslo seamlessly. The lack of a journey cuts quickly between scenes and somewhat undermines Gunnar’s achievements. His achievements are paramount, but the decision to cardboard cut scenes together does lighten the weight.
However, despite an editing decision that will likely bug me more than others, Number 24 is a must-see World War Two movie. It highlights a significant story in Norwegian history through the lens of a famous figure. Number 24 reminds viewers that there are many stories to tell, the human cost, and the sacrifices needed to regain freedom again.
Read More: ‘Number 24’ Ending Explained – The Cost of Freedom in Gunnar Sønsteby’s Story