Walking into the theater for yet another project from the creative universe of Joachim Trier, my expectations were already perfectly aligned. The cinema of the Norwegian filmmaker, who has given us movies like The Worst Person in the World, is invariably synonymous with an intimate and melancholic exploration of themes dear to him: love, memory, identity, grief, and, above all, the complex and multifaceted human experience. What one always hopes for is a narrative that seeks a profound connection, and for me, the yearning to connect with that emotional universe is constant.
Directed by Trier and co-written with Eskil Vogt (The Innocents), Sentimental Value centers on sisters Nora (Renate Reinsve, The Worst Person in the World) and Agnes (Inga Ibsdotter Lilleaas, The Beautiful Life) and their tense reunion with their father, Gustav (Stellan Skarsgård, Dune), a charismatic but absent director attempting his cinematic comeback. When Nora, a stage actress, declines the lead role in his autobiographical project, Gustav offers it to an eager young American star, Rachel Kemp (Elle Fanning, A Complete Unknown), throwing an external force into the middle of their already fractured family structure. The film thus becomes an emotional journey through reconciliation, recollection, and the power of art as a vehicle for healing.
This drama is, first and foremost, an incredibly powerful and heartfelt experience that, even though I didn’t connect deeply with every one of its exposed wounds, kept me captivated by its clarity and honesty. The premise, the interactions, and the narrative arcs are remarkably well-constructed and easy to absorb, allowing the viewer to quickly familiarize themselves with the pain and humor of the Borg family.
The beating heart of the movie lies in the four central performances, all of which are exceptional. Every actor has at least one defining moment that sticks in our memory. The interpersonal bonds are authentic, laden with regret, sadness, anger, and grief accumulated over years of absence and heartache, but tempered by moments of humor and happiness that demonstrate the indestructible family union.
Skarsgård delivers a complex performance, grounded in an attempt at redemption. His journey is that of a distant father who desperately seeks to reconnect with his daughters, particularly Nora. His quest for atonement articulates a theme, curiously recurrent in this edition of the festival: the notion that art can help heal grief and trauma. Gustav uses cinema – his artistic expression – as a pretext, or perhaps, the only language he knows, to process his past and seek forgiveness, almost as if his comeback movie was a creative penance.
Reinsve is a true dynamo of contained emotion. Her Nora carries a deep sadness and a latent anger that manifest through a terribly reserved performance, yet one that’s devastating in moments of explosion. She’s the personification of the anguish caused by paternal abandonment. It’s fascinating to observe the contrast between her ability to dazzle on stage and her inability to communicate her pain in real life. On the other hand, the relationship with her sister Agnes is one of the most interesting and equally poignant points of Sentimental Value’s story. Agnes, the sister who chose domestic stability, takes on the role of caregiver and diplomat, reversing roles since childhood, showing the complexity of the responsibilities assumed – and imposed – within a family unit.
The introduction of Rachel is a narrative stroke of genius. The American star who joins the family drama functions as both a mirror and a catalyst. Fanning displays her talent by portraying Rachel as an altruistic and sensitive figure who, despite being a celebrity, grasps the essence of art. Her role isn’t that of an intruder, but rather someone who, through her frankness with the creative process, unintentionally helps Gustav and Nora confront each other. She isn’t merely an actress being cast; she’s the element that forces the family narrative to unfold. Her performance demonstrates a profound understanding of what’s necessary for the story to be best told, giving up ego for the sake of the narrative — a lesson Gustav, the author, desperately needs to internalize.
The movie establishes a continuous and painful dialogue between art and life. Gustav’s project is explicitly autobiographical, forcing him to revisit his failures as a father and husband. This process raises a crucial question: is art a genuine form of seeking forgiveness, or merely an elegant way to externalize guilt? For Nora, the stage is where she finds voice and control; in life, with Gustav, she’s muted and restrained. Sentimental Value plays with this contrast, where the staging of a life through cinema becomes the only possible path to real-life healing. The tragedy and drama of the Borg family are, ironically, the raw material for Gustav’s great artistic return.
Sentimental Value thus dives into the universal themes of family, memories, and the healing capacity of art. Trier transforms the family home into a living character, a physical repository of all the inherited memories and traumas. These recollections aren’t just memories; they’re wounds that stretch across generations. The filmmaker brilliantly explores the concept of emotional inheritance, questioning what, beyond mere intention, a father passes on to his children. It’s in Nora’s reconciliation with Gustav’s past, and her acceptance of her similarity to him, that the film finds its true depth.
The atmosphere Trier builds is, as expected, deeply melancholic, with a score by Hania Rani that underscores the tenderness and pain of family ties. This immersive setting invites the audience to sink into their seats and be absorbed by the drama. Sentimental Value is also characterized by Kasper Tuxen’s cinematography that extensively uses close-ups, relying on the actors’ expressiveness and allowing emotions to unfold in long takes. This approach culminates in a stunning oner, whose execution, despite containing a ‘stitch cut’, is brilliant and powerful in its final impact, having been subtly anticipated earlier in the movie. This ending, even if it announces itself clearly – aligning with the theme of other festival films on the same subject – is executed so masterfully that it never loses its emotional punch.
However, one technical detail caused me some discomfort and disconnection: the constant, abrupt cuts to black between scenes. This lack of variation in transition style, by itself, wouldn’t be an issue, but its systematic application becomes disruptive. In a movie that allows itself to linger so long on the actors’ faces to convey emotional weight, this suddenness in the cut forces us to interrupt our own emotional processing and quickly move on to the next scene. It’s an editing choice that seems contradictory to the contemplative and heartfelt nature of the feature film and, unfortunately, detracts from the fluidity of the experience.
Sentimental Value is, ultimately, a mature and profoundly moving movie that resonates with the authorial mark of Joachim Trier. The film triumphs thanks to the strength of its narrative and the excellence of the four central performances. It’s a meditation on inherited pain, the intricate cost of artistic creation, and the difficult, yet essential, path to forgiveness and reconciliation. The assured direction and the melancholic atmosphere consolidate Trier’s position as one of the most skillful chroniclers of human fragility. It’s a story that feels familiar, intimate, and, above all, reminds us that true sentimental value lies in the irreducible and, at times, painful bonds that define us.
