The Thanksgiving film for the fractured family is not what you'd expect. Instead of a sentimental tale of reunion and forgiveness, it's a nuanced exploration of the complexities that come with love and loss. Joachim Trier's "Sentimental Value" opens on a frenzied note - Nora, a talented theater actor, struggles to cope with stage fright and anxiety about her upcoming performance.
But as the film progresses, we realize that this is not just about Nora's fears; it's also about the weight of family history and the difficulties of communication. Trier masterfully captures the intricate web of relationships within the Borg family, where Nora's father, Gustav, has a complicated past with his own daughter - her mother who died by suicide.
As Agnes tries to connect with Nora again after years apart, she begins to realize that her father knew more about Nora than he ever let on. The script for his new film becomes the key to unlocking their shared understanding, forcing Nora to confront the fact that her relationship with her father is uniquely complex and multifaceted.
The central question of the film - how can one truly communicate love and intimacy when words are insufficient? - is beautifully answered in a poignant final sequence. Here, Gustav and Nora find solace in art, their shared reverence for it becoming a conduit for their emotions.
Trier's handling of family dynamics is nothing short of remarkable, allowing the audience to grasp the nuances of this fractured unit without needing explicit dialogue or explanation. It's as if we're witnessing a private conversation between two people who've known each other all their lives.
Sentimental Value will undoubtedly strike a chord with American audiences this Thanksgiving season, precisely because it addresses the same deep-seated divisions and conflicts that many families are grappling with. Love and guilt, shame and fear - these emotions swirl together in a maelstrom of human experience that Trier masterfully captures on screen.
This film's impact lies not in feeling good but in making us feel understood more than anything else. It invites us to linger over the margins, brushing up against these complex emotions for just one more moment. Ask another question, hear another story - that's what this holiday season should be about: pouring another cup of coffee and sitting down with those closest to us to listen.
But as the film progresses, we realize that this is not just about Nora's fears; it's also about the weight of family history and the difficulties of communication. Trier masterfully captures the intricate web of relationships within the Borg family, where Nora's father, Gustav, has a complicated past with his own daughter - her mother who died by suicide.
As Agnes tries to connect with Nora again after years apart, she begins to realize that her father knew more about Nora than he ever let on. The script for his new film becomes the key to unlocking their shared understanding, forcing Nora to confront the fact that her relationship with her father is uniquely complex and multifaceted.
The central question of the film - how can one truly communicate love and intimacy when words are insufficient? - is beautifully answered in a poignant final sequence. Here, Gustav and Nora find solace in art, their shared reverence for it becoming a conduit for their emotions.
Trier's handling of family dynamics is nothing short of remarkable, allowing the audience to grasp the nuances of this fractured unit without needing explicit dialogue or explanation. It's as if we're witnessing a private conversation between two people who've known each other all their lives.
Sentimental Value will undoubtedly strike a chord with American audiences this Thanksgiving season, precisely because it addresses the same deep-seated divisions and conflicts that many families are grappling with. Love and guilt, shame and fear - these emotions swirl together in a maelstrom of human experience that Trier masterfully captures on screen.
This film's impact lies not in feeling good but in making us feel understood more than anything else. It invites us to linger over the margins, brushing up against these complex emotions for just one more moment. Ask another question, hear another story - that's what this holiday season should be about: pouring another cup of coffee and sitting down with those closest to us to listen.