Having been regarded by many since its Cannes premiere as ‘one of the best films of the year’, Joachim Trier’s The Worst Person in the World made waves. Not only throughout its origin country Norway, but around the world when it was announced it would be added to the Sundance lineup this year. It is the third film in a coming-of-age series of sorts which Trier and collaborator Eskil Vogt loosely call their “Oslo Trilogy”.
The Worst Person in the World follows Julie, played by Renate Reinsve (who was celebrated for her performance at both Cannes and the PIFC awards) in a groundbreaking performance as she struggles to navigate her mid twenties to early thirties. She doesn’t quite know what she wants out of a relationship, a career, or even in life. In fact, the only thing that Julie is certain of is that she is not content.
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Coupled with the stressors many women face in their late twenties, such as the pressure to bear children, to settle down, to grow up. It’s a recipe for anyone to feel like the one of the most confused, most hopeless, perhaps one of the worst people in the world.
Throughout the chapters of Julie’s life that we experience alongside her, we witness her morph, adapt, embrace change, balk at change, only to embrace it once more. She switches lovers, pursues multiple career paths, changes her hair again and again in an attempt to grasp at anything that feels right.
Julie is ever changing and in doing so, ever growing, albeit unbeknownst to her, as is human nature. She reflects in stunning accuracy a universal experience for so many: the reality of how discouraging and lonely the journey can be to discover which version of yourself you truly feel you are.
This film feels effortlessly likable in a way that is not accidental in the slightest. Its overall shamelessness and contemporary themes make it a refreshingly captivating watch that masterfully maneuvers around an “ultra-woke” narrative. One of which it could’ve easily fallen victim to. It handles instances of sexism, societal pressures, grief and generational anxiety in such an organic way. It feels familiar in the most comforting sense that we are not alone in feeling, in struggling, in learning through mistake after mistake.
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The Worst Person in the World excels not only in its performances but in its technical aspects as well. Cinematographer Kasper Tuxen, along with Trier, help to frame the shots of Julie poetically throughout the film. There are contrasting shots of her with others alongside single shots where she is isolated, surrounded by an unnerving amount of empty space. Even if she is speaking to someone out of frame. This visual clash creates an unsettling experience for the viewer, which makes it easier to replicate our protagonist’s isolated feelings with some clever and calculated cinematography.
This film explores the uncertainty of an ever changing, tumultuous millennial experience by using raw realism combined with a handful of dreamlike scenarios. One such “what if” that’s explored in particular being subtly reminiscent of the Epilogue from Chazelle’s La La Land.
Quite a bit of the success and appeal of The Worst Person in the World is ultimately due to it being fronted by Reinsve. Through her depiction of Julie combined with a resounding script to work with, she shares with us the realization that life is fleeting, confusing, unfair and excruciating, but so incredibly beautiful.
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Through Julie we can recognize that we are are scared to forget and afraid of being forgotten. That we change and change again through uncertainty, doubt, pain and love. That it is the human experience to be left a little different than we were before with every new person we meet. Through every new experience we have and passion we discover.
And that despite any self loathing, confusion and self destruction we may experience on our journey through life to find ourselves, there will always be moments of joy to be found. And the eventual possibility to be content in the realization of our utter, beautiful imperfection.
