Rafa_halfeld

:::Watched at Scandinavian Film Festival:::

Joachim Trier's Sentimental Value is a deeply resonant family drama that eschews melodrama for emotional authenticity and psychological nuance. The film is centred on Nora, played with great restraint by Renate Reinsve, who is forced to confront her estranged filmmaker father, Gustav (Stellan Skarsgård), after the death of her mother. The family home in Oslo emerges as both setting and symbol-a container for memories and scars-which Gustav hopes to immortalise through his latest cinematic project.

Trier handles the motif of inherited trauma with tact, refusing to indulge in manipulative sentimentality. Instead, the narrative unfolds gently, through carefully observed interactions and silences. Nora, a stage actress paralysed by anxiety and divided loyalties, is caught between the burdens of family history and the demands of performance. Reinsve imbues her character with a delicate sense of unease that never spills over into theatrics, while Skarsgård navigates Gustav's arrogance and regret with a similarly subtle touch. The supporting cast, specifically Inga Ibsdotter Lilleaas as Nora's sister Agnes, adds depth to the film's meditation on the countless ways familial love and resentment can coexist.

The script delicately questions the ethics of artistic catharsis, as Gustav asks Nora to recreate painful family events on camera-prompting sharp consideration of the cost of using real trauma for art. Elle Fanning, as an eager Hollywood star parachuted into the family's drama, serves as both mirror and foil to Nora, further sharpening the film's self-examination of performance, legacy, and authenticity.

Visually, Sentimental Value is quietly gorgeous, its crystalline light and carefully composed frames echoing the story's sense of longing and the weight of the past. Trier's refined direction and restrained musical choices allow every emotional beat to register fully.

What endures is the film's generosity and honesty. It does not force reconciliation but gently suggests that understanding alone could be redemptive. Sentimental Value is demanding, reflective, and full of love for flawed people, confirming Trier as one of the most perceptive filmmakers working today.

***Watched at Scandinavian Film Festival***

Zinnini Elkington's directorial debut "Det andet offer" ("Second Victims") emerges as one of 2025's most emotionally devastating character studies, a film that strips away any romanticism from the medical profession to reveal the profound psychological toll of life-and-death decisions. Set within the claustrophobic confines of an understaffed Danish hospital, this 92-minute tour de force transforms a single, catastrophic shift into a masterclass of sustained tension and moral complexity.

The film follows Alexandra, a skilled neurologist whose unwavering confidence becomes her greatest liability when a routine case spirals into tragedy. Elkington's screenplay, inspired by the real-life psychological syndrome affecting healthcare workers after traumatic patient care events, steers clear of medical procedural conventions in favour of intimate psychological portraiture. The opening sequence-a remarkable long take tracing Alexandra through her morning routine-immediately establishes both her competence and the institutional pressures that will ultimately compromise her judgement.

Özlem Saglanmak delivers a powerhouse performance, anchoring the film's emotional heft. Her portrayal of Alexandra's gradual descent from professional confidence to paralysing self-doubt feels authentically lived-in, never tipping into melodramatic excess. Particularly effective is her interplay with Trine Dyrholm, whose grieving mother becomes both antagonist and mirror for Alexandra's guilt. The supporting ensemble convincingly creates an ecosystem of overworked professionals making split-second decisions under relentless pressure.

Elkington's direction demonstrates remarkable restraint and precision. The filmmaker uses the hospital's sterile corridors and fluorescent lighting to create an atmosphere of mounting dread, while the documentary-like cinematography heightens the raw authenticity of every encounter. Filming on location at an active hospital lends proceedings an unsettling realism that feels uncomfortably immediate.

Where the film truly excels is in its unflinching examination of systemic healthcare failures. Rather than scapegoating individuals, Elkington offers a nuanced critique of understaffing, time pressures, and institutional indifference-a message resonating well beyond Denmark's borders. A staff meeting scene, in which administrators allocate mere minutes to address harrowing events, quietly encapsulates the dehumanising side of efficiency.

"Second Victims" stands as a vital new entry in the genre of medical drama, refusing the easy comforts and neat resolutions typical of hospital stories. Instead, Elkington presents healthcare as a fundamentally human-and thus fallible-endeavour, asking confronting questions about blame, responsibility and the structures that shape both suffering and survival.

Watched on Sydney Film Festival 2025

Jafar Panahi's Palme d'Or winner, It Was Just an Accident, isn't just a film; it's a gripping, morally fraught journey that grabs you and refuses to let go long after the credits roll. Forget a simple fender bender - this story ignites when a minor traffic scrape leads former political prisoner Vahid to believe he's cornered "Peg Leg," the man who brutally tortured him years before. Talk about wrong place, wrong time... or is it?

Panahi plunges us straight into the suffocating tension. Vahid gathers fellow survivors, each etched with their own raw pain and simmering rage, turning a car ride into a claustrophobic tribunal. Their desperate mission? To confirm the terrified captive Ebrahim Azizi's identity and decide his fate. It's here the film truly digs its claws in, forcing you to grapple alongside them: Where does the desperate need for justice end and the cycle of vengeance begin? Can victims ever be justified in mirroring their oppressor's cruelty? Panahi masterfully blurs these lines, offering zero easy outs.

The brilliance lies in the raw humanity. While exploring the primal pull of revenge - that fierce, almost instinctive reclaiming of power - the film never loses sight of the complex, painful possibility of forgiveness. It's not presented as some saintly virtue, but as a messy, agonising internal battle played out on the faces of a stunningly authentic, mostly non-professional cast. Their barely contained fury sits right alongside profound vulnerability. Can empathy survive such deep scars?

Don't mistake this for unrelenting gloom, though. Panahi weaves in moments of sharp, absurdist gallows humour that land perfectly, highlighting the surreal contradictions of life under the boot. Visually restrained but emotionally potent, the film relies on evocative camerawork and powerhouse subtle performances. The deliberate pacing makes you sit with every gut-wrenching dilemma and fleeting connection.

Ultimately, It Was Just an Accident transcends revenge thriller territory. A pivotal, unexpected third-act twist delivers a stunning gut-punch: a stark reminder that even amidst profound trauma, a flicker of human compassion can endure. The devastating climax and its haunting final moments linger, leaving you with a fragile sense of hope wrestled from the jaws of despair. Panahi crafts a defiant, unforgettable cinematic challenge - a film that doesn't just tell a story, but forces you to confront the darkest corners of justice, power, and whether healing is even possible. It demands your attention and refuses to offer simple answers. Fair crack of the whip, this one sticks with you.