Movie Review: Sentimental Value

Director Joachim Trier and his longtime co-writer Eskil Vogt have pulled off something special with their latest movie, leaving the viewer feeling a way that few, if any, other films have. Simultaneously naturalistic and painterly, wistful and angry, ambiguous and revealing, Sentimental Value sticks with you like a childhood scar. There are individual moments of striking beauty and cathartic sadness that prove successful at eliciting emotional responses, but it wasn’t until the closing credits, when I really began processing what I had seen that the full impact washed over me.

The movie begins with the first of two charmingly whimsical sequences that quickly convey the history of a Norwegian house, and in turn the family that has resided within across generations, getting us up to speed on events that have shaped the story’s characters while setting the building up as one in its own right. From there we follow the Borgs: once-renowned filmmaker Gustav (Stellan Skarsgård) and daughters Nora (Reinate Reinsve) and Agnes (Inga Ibsdotter Lilleaas). The former has become a well-regarded actress in her own right despite a severe case of stage fright and the latter, despite starring in one of her father’s films as a child, went on to be a historian with a young family of her own.

When the girls were young, Gustav left the family to pursue his career, creating a rift between them. Now years later, at their mother’s funeral he asks Nora to meet with him and then offers her a role in his first film in over 15 years, a deeply personal project he claims to have written with her in mind. Her anger towards him is too deep however and she refuses, but he is determined to move forward with it and casts rising Hollywood star Rachel Kemp (Elle Fanning) instead. Production begins in the family home, which has remained in his name all this time, and the merging of memories and inferences about each other that drive it and the family’s interactions bring long-simmering feelings to the forefront.

The script is deeply empathetic, using observational humor and a profound understanding of human nature to tell a story that feels both specific and universal. All four leads truly get to shine, giving achingly true performances that convincingly flip from charming to devastating at a moment’s notice. Reinsve is captivatingly raw and Skarsgård exudes a subtle arrogance that masks the sort of questioning regret that comes with age. In less obviously showy roles, Fanning nails portraying an actress who isn’t quite right for a role, making that challenging task look effortless, while Lilleaas’ turn as the supposedly more “stable” sister earns her what is perhaps the movie’s most obviously emotional moment.

Examining the ways that familial legacies affect subsequent generations isn’t especially new ground, but it’s handled beautifully here. Additionally putting forth thoughts on aging, time’s passage, estrangement, home, and the cost of art, one could worry that Trier and Vogt have bitten off more than they could chew, but it all comes together with wisdom and grace. With smart music choices, lovely cinematography by Kasper Tuxen Andersen, and four of the year’s best performances, Trier has crafted a truly resonant and moving motion picture, that will leave audiences in a pleasantly melancholy state of self-reflection and absolutely “full” to the rafters. ★★★★★