Sentimental Value Movie Review
SENTIMENTAL VALUE
Agnes and Nora see their father arrive after many years of absence. A renowned director, he offers Nora, a stage actress, a role in his next film, but she defiantly refuses. He then offers the role to a young Hollywood star, reviving painful family memories.
Film Review
After Julie (in 12 chapters), which revealed the immense talent of Renate Reinsve and definitively established her as one of the great storytellers of contemporary cinema, Joachim Trier returns to the official competition with Valeur sentimentale, a work of great maturity, co-written as always with Eskil Vogt. At once a family melodrama, a meta comedy on artistic creation, and a reflection on forgiveness, the film digs more than ever into the intimate furrows that run through his entire filmography. Classic cinema experiences
Filmed mostly in Oslo, except a jaunt to Deauville in the first quarter of the film, Sentimental Value opens with a return: that of Gustav Borg, an aging filmmaker who hasn’t acted for 15 years. On the occasion of their mother’s funeral, he resurfaces in the lives of his two daughters, Nora and Agnes. Gustav handles this return in his own way: he quickly asks Nora to star in his new film, inspired by their family history. She refuses, not only out of pride or anger, but perhaps also out of lucidity. Revisiting past wounds under the pretext of art doesn’t exactly seem like an attractive prospect, given that communication between them is more than complicated. Faced with his daughter’s resigned refusal, Gustav then hires an English-speaking actress, Rachel Kemp, to play the character he had initially written for his eldest daughter, a stage actress.
The film within the film can begin. But this narrative choice opens a profound reflection on intergenerational dynamics, reconstructed memories, and the way in which art can both heal and reopen wounds. Like a fragmented mirror, each scene illuminates a part of this father-daughter relationship riddled with silences. At the heart of Sentimental Value, Trier and Vogt also question the act of creation as a deeply selfish but potentially restorative gesture, as Widerberg did when he suggested his son act in his final film, The Beauty of Things. Touching and a little overwhelmed, Gustav is as much a failing father as a man of his time and an artist incapable of living outside of his art. Without seeking to excuse him, the film chooses to tell how this urge to film his family remains his last resort to reconnect with his daughters and his grandson, the last vestige of his humanity, clumsy but sincere.
Despite its gravity and melancholy, Valeur sentimentale also offers some nice respite, sometimes being brilliantly funny and deliciously meta, like this hilarious scene at the little boy’s birthday party. If its satire of European arthouse cinema remains rather harmless, it is perhaps because it should be seen more as an elegant, tender, and ironic mise en abyme, rather than a truly vitriolic discourse.
The family home, the film’s main setting, evokes the enclosed, psychological space of Bergman, while the characters’ sensitive wanderings are more reminiscent of Bo Widerberg’s poetic realism. Trier borrows from the former the analytical rigor of emotions, and from the latter the bittersweet warmth of human relationships, capturing the melancholy of the passing seasons. But Joachim Trier is above all in his own vein: that of a filmmaker who films inner turmoil with unique precision. Reuniting with his cinematographer Kasper Tuxen, his new feature film oscillates between natural light and careful compositions; the camera captures the texture of faces, the quivering of a gaze, the play of shadows on the walls like so many silent echoes of the past. Autumnal tones and chiaroscuro reinforce this atmosphere suspended between melancholy and calm.
On screen, Renate Reinsve is once again overwhelming in her restraint and intensity. Her gaze alone is enough to suggest years of suppressed resentment, tenderness buried behind a huge shell she fashioned for herself when the family was falling apart. Stellan Skarsgård, full of ambivalence, infuses Gustav with a disarming humanity, somewhere between tired grandeur and touching pathos. What a wonderful idea to have them team up, as the magic happens as soon as they share a scene. Let’s also salute the performances of Inga Ibsdotter Lilleaas, perfect as the supportive younger sister, and Elle Fanning, who finds a very beautiful role here. Although secondary, they manage to impose sincerity and finesse in several pivotal scenes.
With Sentimental Value, Joachim Trier and Eskil Vogt have once again raised the bar, creating a complex and touching film that combines emotional depth, understated humor, and a lucid reflection on art, family, and memory. It might be his most Bergman-esque film, but it’s also perhaps his most universal, carried by a luminous direction and actors at the height of their powers. A rare work of cinema: intelligent without being demonstrative, moving without being manipulative. Simply beautiful. After the Golden Bear last February, Norway has won a Grand Prix at Cannes.