It's not really his fault. Reinsve's character - or is it Reinsve herself? The distinction is almost impossible to make - is very beguiling in this film. It's intentional: film-maker Joachim Trier directs her performance in such a way as to make the audience see her as having some kind of magical power over the people in her life, particularly the men, and us as viewers too. It's an exceptional performance by Reinsve, as the panel at Cannes concurred by awarding her the best actress prize at last year's festival.
It's a very Scandinavian film: an emotionless voiceover, enviable lakeside cabin architecture, stylish central Oslo apartments, middle-of-the-night adventures in the dusky light of northern summer skies and a quiet elitism only a country with well-funded public health and education can pull off.
It's a story of a deeply thoughtful woman searching for something that she's unable to find and the people that suffer as a result. But does that make her the worst person in the world? Could merely being a woman strong enough not to settle for a less than wholly satisfying life make you a monster in the eyes of those you leave behind? Is the pursuit of happiness ultimately selfish and cruel? Is the worst person in the world simply the one you love the most, the only one capable of truly breaking your heart? Are we all the worst person in the world to someone?
I loved this film. It's probably one of my favourite films of the last two years. It's real, it's heartbreaking and it's specific. It's a close study of the ways we hurt each other without ever trying to. Or maybe it's not about that at all. There are definitely other readings of it. Greg and I spent quite some time discussing the significance of a bloody tampon in the magic mushroom sequence, without reaching any consensus. While Greg's judgement was shamelessly clouded, I agree with him on at least one thing: I could happily watch it several times over.
HE SAW
The beating heart of The Worst Person in the World is Renate Reinsve, an actor so luminously watchable, so understated yet so richly expressive, so unusual, such a vast container of emotion overflowing, that it would be worth getting brutally dumped by her, just to experience at first hand the full flowering of her dramatic gift. She carries the movie from start to finish and back again, and although it's only hours since I watched it, I would happily watch it again right now, just to see her carry it once more.
I had never heard of Reinsve until I saw the cover of last weekend's Canvas, on which she was shown sitting against a wall at the top of some stairs with an expression that captures more or less the entirety of the human experience. It is undoubtedly the most incredible image I've ever seen, like a Vermeer but more moving. Since then, I've thought about other things, but not as many as usual. Yes, I suppose it's fair to say I fell more or less instantly in love with her.
Writer/director Joachim Trier wrote the movie for her, even though she had by the time of its production reached her early 30s without a single leading role, and had - the day before he offered her this one - decided to quit acting and take up carpentry.
I asked Zanna why she thought Trier wrote the movie for her. She neither had a satisfying answer nor was very interested in the question, but because I thought it was the most important decision he made, I pressed her on it.
"Oh!" she yelled at me. "I don't know!" She was making the kids' lunches. After I sulked for a bit, she said, "You're searching for some magical reason it had to be her, because you found her so beguiling, and there isn't one."
The opening scene of the movie shows her in profile, in a black cocktail dress, standing on a balcony at sunset, lit from behind, Oslo spread out beneath her. It lasts a minute or so, all the while the camera slow-zooming in on her. She doesn't speak and hardly moves. The best way to describe the shot would be "worshipful".
Reinsve first worked with Trier on his movie Oslo, August 31st, in 2011. She only had one line but in recent interviews Trier has said he knew then that she was going to be a star. One line might sound like insufficient evidence with which to come to such a conclusion, but the longer you spend with The Worst Person in the World, the clearer it becomes: No lines would also have been enough.
The Worst Person in the World is in cinemas now.
