Sisters Nora and Agnes reunite with their estranged father, the charismatic Gustav, a once-renowned director who offers stage actress Nora a role in what he hopes will be his comeback film. When Nora turns it down, she soon discovers he has given her part to an eager young Hollywood star.
They drink too much during the film. Apart from that, very good.
First, I slapped the masterpiece tag only because ‘hey, that’s some Norwegian art house!’ (Not really.)
But it does trigger some emotions related to being sentimental. Perhaps, that’s just my thing, because of my background.
It’s this cinematography thing, isn’t it? They portray all the people as thinking, reflecting, analysing, individuals.
Unless that’s some Russian cinematography, but they movies are absolute dog shit. And they portray absolute scum not because of some at house thing, but because of their pathetic miserable little pseudo culture.
I guess, I have little problem with that, portraying people as thinking smart individuals, and not some automatic biological robots with not much thinking and especially self-awareness reflections. My childhood was spent with this kind of people, mostly. It was hard, close to impossible, find someone who’d talk to me, listen to me, discuss some complex things — or any things — with me. I wasn’t needed to anyone.
Let alone that someone dedicated a huge piece of work to someone like me, like we’ve seen here.
However, I have at least one person of my previous life — one of my previous lives — to whom I have this sentimental value. Upon writing this, I realise that’s two, probably. My cousin too, he was a kind of a father, or just parent, to me. He’s no longer. That other person is no longer, too.
Both are alive and somewhat well, last I’ve heard. He’s in the middle of fucking Russian nowhere, not even being aware of the degree of this nowhere, how much fucking nowhere it is. She’s in London, so that’s perhaps the opposite of the nowhere. Both are very different today, they aren’t houses after all. To me, both are home. But both are a thing of the past. We’re different, me too.
I have no place like the house we’ve shown, that brings me any sentimental value. Long lost and forgotten. To the degree, I cannot even visit the place. Not safely, at least. It’s Russian occupied territories. But there’s no point in visiting, it’s not Norway. It’s ruined, both physically and spiritually to. There’s nothing to visit.
I’ve slapped masterpiece on this, because I woke up at 5 a.m. the next day, thinking about all this. First, I remembered the London friend, second I remembered the middle of fucking nowhere cousin. All my previous families.
That’s a kind of a work, where I don’t care much of the storyline, but not because of the style and special effects. But rather—
How to place it … some sentimental value, you know du vet.
Also, is sentimental value something that was in the past? I have my family now, but I miss some childhood families I’ve been to. Most of them are dead by now. I have no sentimentality towards my current family, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love them and all. It’s just rather ‘the things unnoticed at the moment,’ something like that.