Executive producer Joachim Trier’s Sentimental Value explores the morally gray need to capitalize on real pain to create lasting art.
Art can be a curious thing. We use trauma to accurately depict the human experience. Yet, the result tends to see a system—such as a movie studio, publisher, or music label—profiting off of someone else’s agony. Joachim Trier and co-writer and executive producer Eskil Vogt tapped into this complicated relationship between art, torment, and money through their breakout film, The Worst Person in the World. This prior work is a story about how our interests change over time, feeling lost, and desperately grasping to retain control over our lives. Sentimental Value further explores these themes by seeing a father find new life in his professional career through his daughter’s struggles.
Synopsis
Nora Borg (executive producer Renate Reinsve, A Different Man) is a stage actress with a toxic relationship with her craft. One day, she and her sister Agnes (Inga Ibsdotter Lilleaas, A Beautiful Life) are reunited with their father, the charismatic Gustav (executive producer Stellan Skarsgård, Andor), a once-renowned film director. He offers Nora the leading role in his next project, which he claims he wrote for his daughter. When Nora declines to work with him, Gustav turns to American Hollywood star Rachel Kemp (Elle Fanning, A Complete Unknown). Suddenly, the two sisters must navigate their complicated history with their father—and deal with a movie star dropped right into the middle of their family drama.
Parents Shape Our Insecurities
Right from the start, we are given a clear look into Nora’s psyche. On the opening night of her new play, in which she plays the lead, she’s consumed by paranoia. Refusing to go out on stage, there are crew members who are quite literally dragging her to meet her mark, and it isn’t until she requests one of them to slap her that she gets the courage to perform. The result? Standing ovation, singing her praises.
Being an artist is being willing to exploit your pain and that of others to craft something bigger than yourself. Grief, loneliness, regret, and a great sadness that refuses to go away. Those are the elements that plague Nora’s existence. They are clear as day, even if she attempts to hide how she really feels. Agnes sees through it. The audience can identify these patterns when she performs. Most important of all, Skarsgård’s Gustav can spot these repressed feelings. A mix of emotions he helped shape within her through his years-long neglect. Yet, he can’t help but see a good story when he sets eyes on Nora.
Unspoken Feelings
Reinsve and Skarsgård play off each other so well. Given his absence and Nora’s resentment towards him, the tension between the two is palpable. Gustav does not know how to reconcile the fragile father-daughter relationship. Therefore, he thinks that writing a script about her mental health will demonstrate that he actually does understand her pain more than he lets on. Skarsgård balances his character’s narcissism and longing for reconnection with such care that Gustav is equally charismatic as he is self-centered.
On the other hand, Nora takes any opportunity to antagonize Gustav, while part of her wishes she could be that little girl again who idolized her father. Since neither can talk about their feelings with the other, there is a loudness to the awkward silence between the two. It’s like unspoken words that refuse to leave our characters’ mouths.
Reinsve is phenomenal. So much natural charm continuously hides something darker behind her eye. Fanning is a ray of sunshine that doesn’t belong in this setting filled with family drama. Amidst the joy she transmits, doubt also knocks down her confidence as a performer, just as Nora does in the opening sequence. It makes for great commentary on the process of embodying a real person on screen. My biggest surprise is probably Lilleaas as Agnes. She’s the anchor of this family unit through both the best and the worst of times, like the voice of reason pushing Gustav and Nora to confront one another.
Fly on the Wall
Apart from its many beautiful performances and stellar script, what helps Sentimental Value be so emotionally effective is its naturalistic visual language. Rarely is there any fancy camera movement. Rather, it carries an almost documentary shooting style. Director of photography Kasper Tuxen’s camera feels like a fly on the wall, observing as the character conflicts unravel. This allows the cast to fully captivate you with little to no distractions.
Although when the film does give itself the space to flex on a technical standpoint, it leaves a much larger impact as opposed to if there were similarly shot scenes across the movie. A one continuous shot takes center stage towards the film’s climax. It’s visually impressive, but it also highlights how much of a talent Reinsve is, as she’s forced to convey a lot of mixed emotions with the camera never leaving her sight. You’re placed in a state of dread, and when the camera finally cuts, that’s when you can breathe easy again.
Final Thoughts on Sentimental Value
What Joachim Trier accomplishes in Sentimental Value is tender, somber, and quiet. Its father-daughter narrative is familiar, but explored with such nuance through the art that serves as a mirror to aid us in reflecting upon our life choices. Maybe creating is a form of therapy that can help us heal. Perhaps it’s an easy route to exploit our hardships for professional and financial reasons. Or it could be a mix of both. In the end, Gustav and Nora’s journey confronts us with the idea of giving people the chance to right the wrongs of the past. Sentimental Value’s final moments are unbelievably bittersweet. It carries what might be the best ending of the year.
For more drama-related news and reviews, follow The Cinema Spot on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram! Also, follow us on Letterboxd for further feature film, short film, and limited series reviews!
