"The Worst Person in the World" is Far from It

Julie? Who the f*ck is Julie? {No Alices were harmed in the writing of this subhead}

Jul 16, 2024

Happyish Sad Happyish Sad [Rinse, Repeat]

In Norwegian director Joachim Trier’s 2021 romantic tragedy, The Worst Person in the World [ 🔗 Trailer], which earned its beguiling leading star, Renate Reinsve, (Presumed Innocent series) the Best Actress Award at Cannes, a woman named Julie tries to make sense of her agency and place in the world through the typical young person paths of romantic pursuits and a steady carousel of professions. She tries her hand at medical school, then later turns her mind to psychology, eventually concluding that photography suits her best. She likes the visual medium. Oslo, her native city also suits her. It’s a beautiful, clean metropolis backdrop full of hope that paradoxically carries the somber weight of a dusk-like ever-state ripe with attractive people who can’t seem to be happy.

Side Note: It’s the trifecta of bittersweet melancholy mixed with the unbearable lightness of being with a sprinkling of the absurd. 👇

Source: Indiewire / Julie (Renate Reinsve) runs carefree-ly through the picturesque Oslo streets towards a new

Moving Toward a More Empathetic Understanding of Ourselves, via Julie

In making sense of the film’s title (“The Worst Person in the World”), which in some ways seems like a reductive slight to the experience of the main character Julie’s coming of age, if not a wink to Trier’s admission of his own male gaze bias, I’m reminded of a quote from the Greek philosopher Heraclitus who said:

“No [wo]man ever steps in the same river twice, for it's not the same river, and [s]he's not the same [wo]man.”

Using this lens, we are less apt to judge Julie for her youthful indiscretions and condemn her for what may appear at first glance, as careless actions. She’s ever-evolving, and can’t go back, only forward. For example, her inevitable disdain for her much older boyfriend Aksel’s (Anders Danielsen Lie, a Triers’ three-peat) circle of “sellout” friends is generational. She hasn’t reached the point when mortgage payments add up and she’s responsible for another human being apart from herself and forced to make tough decisions, and maybe she never will. The point is that she hasn’t developed empathy here for Aksel or his friends because she hasn’t had to and so she’s quick to form opinions, shutting down any dissent. She exhibits an immature, fickle affection toward Aksel at the jump - realizing she “loves” him only when he rejects her. It’s reactive. But then again, so much of youth is.

Can we fault Julie for any of this? She doesn’t yet know herself.

I recall when my kids were young trying to learn how to teach them about sizing problems for size of reaction. Here on the internet, we may employ rage clicks and trashed cursors as socially viable ways to express frustration. In real life, festering emotions can spill over into messy, hurtful behaviors and weaponized words that wound. The irony is that these days everything seems to fit in the “big” category for kids and adults. We all tend to catastrophize and the current state of political affairs in the U.S. hasn’t served us well as far as our ability to distinguish and frame problem size and response.

Chapters/Subheads & The Older Narrator Device in Trier’s Work

Trier expertly pieces together Julie’s life experience by employing chapters, which is an effective choice for constructing a throughline in the narrative, weaving together seemingly disconnected bits in an obscure timeline, albeit a linear one.

Side Note: Anne Billson of The Guardian, offers up a worthwhile read on directors’ use of the subhead/chapters approach. [🔗 here] Call me crazy, but I happen to love it when directors offer up film headings. It purposefully frames the story.

I mentioned in Top WEIRD Romance Films [🔗 here] the film The Lover about a young woman’s coming-of-age in Vietnam during French colonial times and similarly, The Worst Person in the World employs the POV of an older, wise adult narrator's voice to frame the younger woman’s story, creating a very satisfying look back.

The Lifestyle (Cerebral) Choice & The Experience (Feelings) Guy

Aksel, a 40-something-year-old, and Julie enter into a relationship very quickly after their initial meeting at a party and hookup. There’s no doubt that THIS relationship is the formative love one for Julie and most definitely for Aksel, who openly tells her that she is the love of his life, however brief and tragic his storyline is. She eventually tires of his overly intellectualized talkative manner (a particular dinner party scene illustrates this beautifully) and his preoccupation with his graphic novels/cartoons. He can come off as self-absorbed but he's mastered the ability to communicate his feelings and is confident in doing so.

What’s refreshing about Aksel is he is a fully formed human in command of his thoughts and someone who has put in the work to understand them.

Julie and Eivind (Herbert Nordrum), the other guy

Julie meets Eivind at a party she crashes. They flirt in a more sexually overt and charged manner than any of the film’s sex scenes and test the lines of fidelity as both are in long-term relationships with someone else. The kindling of their fire is heightened through thoughts and gives way to an accidental meetup. If there’s such a thing as manifesting thoughts into reality, then their attraction meets this criterion.

In contrast to Aksel, Eivind is more of a feelings guy, though less able to express it through words, more so through smoldering stares. In any event, Julie claims that she is more herself with him than ever before when with him and revels in the silence. The viewer doubts the sustaining potential of such a statement but goes along with Julie’s journey with Eivind until the once fiery romance has reached its inevitable conclusion - that the reality of something verboten never lives up to the dream. Julie, however, learns through this relationship that being in the power position comes with its share of resentments and cruel actions, especially when you’ve used someone to leave another inconvenient relationship. Love is sometimes ugly.

What Else I’m Watching and Not Watching

Hubby Is Bored Senseless

Sunny on Apple TV+ [Trailer], a thriller starring Rashida Jones. I'm two episodes in and not loving it. The premise is Jones’ husband and son are alleged to be dead. She’s recovering. She lives in Japan, having emigrated there upon meeting her mysterious husband whom she, of course, knows nothing and everything about. She’s grieving substantial loss without family or a community of friends in a foreign land. So you have that. Her best friend is a robot, Sunny, who has more personality than Jones’ character and honestly, the whole vibe here has me wishing this was an adaptation of Klara and the Sun instead. The pacing is so slow, Jones’ clothing choices are distracting, and I want to stop googling, “Am I depressed?” while watching it. Because, hot damn, of course, I am. I’m watching Apple TV+ and writing about a Norwegian film!

Even its stills are dark sepia-toned. Save me from myself.

The Bear Season 3 in Hulu - Between friends and reviewers giving all kinds of artistic license excuses for what a colossal, naval-gazing bomb of a season this critic darling of a show has found itself in, I’m not sure I can garner the strength to sit through my Hulu w/commercials’ membership but hey, maybe you can donate to my Beth’s coffee fund (🔗 here) and we can see ourselves out of that mess so I can take a proper look. [😉😘] In the meantime, I’ll just keep eating my daughter’s delicious Michelin-worthy chocolate chip cookies. Because if I am to quote the OG Carmy - that brooding, troubled character from Good Will Hunting, “How do you like them apples?” 👇