My Vingren is a Swedish investigative journalist who works for the quarterly anti-racist magazine Expo. Some call her the real-life “Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. The publication was founded by late Swedish actor and activist Sieg Larsson, author of the crime novel series Millenium, and its main objective is to denounce far-right and anti-democratic movements. Part exposé, part character-driven, this documentary follows Vingren on her quest to expose the elusive founder of an online right-wing forum. The inquisitive camera closely watches the proficient journalist as she infiltrates the private fora with a carefully constructed fake persona.

Sneaking into the secluded spaces full of antisemitic memes, nazi regalia and racist slogans is shockingly easy. Posting hateful hashtags and creating a male profile boasting nationalist pride are enough to court a host of invitations. Open access might look like a weak link in the digital fascist sphere, but it’s actually its strength. As Vingren explains in her background commentary, this online world consists almost entirely of young white males. They look for appreciation, a sense of belonging and easy targets for their anger.

Anika Collier Navaroli is an U.S.-based lawyer and former member of Twitter’s Safety Policy Team. She was the one who suspended the account of Donald Trump. Many of her numerous warnings about the dangerous potential of online hate speech fell on deaf ears. The consequences were often catastrophic, ranging from rabid attacks on social media to fatal physical attacks, shown prolifically through tight editing. White supremacists themselves captured some of the footage, and their dramatic purpose is bright and clear.

These insights underline why Vingren’s work is essential. The words of the far-right figureheads she tracks down incite real violence. Vingren also felt the consequences herself. Death threats forced her to take up a new identity. This does not stop her from conducting her search with determination. Her focused demeanour makes her the perfect guide, both through the white supremacist swamp and Klose’s layered exposition. With a runtime of just under 90 minutes, Hacking Hate moves at a brisk pace. Kate Havnevik’s high-strung score and a few criminalist gimmicks *such as turning the screen into an evidence board) can feel a gratuitously attention-seeking.. But Navaroli’s precise, piercing analysis, combined Vingren’s level-headed approach keep the scenario grounded.

A small number of talking heads interviews conducted by Vingren balance her risky research, fleshed out with surveillance footage, Google Maps, and digital trail images. The investigation’s surprising results reaffirm Vingren’s proposed intention: to understand how hate ideologies can absorb people so effectively. The determined protagonist and the thorny subject matter are very compelling. An alarmingly timely film.

Hacking Hate just premiered at CPH:DOX.