'Sentimental Value' Weaves Memory and Performance into Joachim Trier's Modern Masterpiece

Joachim Trier's masterful drama, Sentimental Value, commences with two scenes that immediately establish the film's thematic core. The prologue introduces an imaginative child's essay that personifies a family home, questioning whether it feels happiness when "its belly is full of life" or experiences pain when a window is slammed. This contemplation on history and memory is swiftly followed by a scene featuring an actress on the brink of an emotional collapse just before her opening night. She attempts to flee the packed theater before channeling her turmoil into her interpretation of The Seagull. The dual focus—the enduring family structure and the Herculean, often traumatic, effort required for artistic performance—establishes the film's scope. Art, memory, expression, trauma, and history are all deftly woven throughout this breathtaking drama, which, while recalling the psychological depth of Ingmar Bergman, definitively cements Trier's status as one of cinema’s living masters. The movie possesses the subtle quality of great literature, blending complex themes and character dynamics in a way that allows it to persist and resonate in the viewer's mind long after viewing.

The actress central to the narrative is Nora (Renate Reinsve), whose mother's death early in the film prompts the unwelcome return of her estranged father, Gustav (Stellan Skarsgård). Both Nora and her sister, Agnes (Inga Ibsdotter Lilleas), who is married with a son, are hesitant about their father's presence. Nora, who is secretly involved with her married co-star, seems to carry the deeper emotional wounds stemming from the estrangement. This history makes it all the more jarring when Gustav, a director himself, announces that he has written a feature film specifically for Nora to star in. She refuses even to read the script. Reinsve and Skarsgård’s initial interaction is a masterclass in performance, conveying the history of macro- and micro-aggressions through every subtle shift in body language, cadence, and tone. Gustav's offer is intended as an olive branch, but Nora is unwilling to accept his gesture of reconciliation.

Gustav subsequently travels to the Deauville Film Festival, where an older film starring a young Agnes is being screened. Moved by this early work, a famous American actress, Rachel Kemp (Elle Fanning), invites Gustav to join her entourage, sparking a friendship on the beach. Predictably, Rachel is eventually cast in the lead role intended for Nora, allowing Trier to explore powerful, Bergman-esque themes of identity—including a direct visual allusion to Persona. These themes intensify when the American actress dyes her hair to resemble Gustav’s daughter. While Gustav works on the film, Nora consistently avoids any interaction. Simultaneously, Agnes, who is an academic historian, begins researching the historical truth concerning her grandmother's suicide and her family's involvement in World War II torture, a past that seems to inform the subject matter of Gustav's film-within-a-film. Sentimental Value builds its emotional momentum subtly; the characters' breakthroughs arrive not through theatrical melodrama, but patiently, gradually, and believably, often conveyed through what is left unsaid rather than dialogue. The film's powerful final beat achieves its impact entirely without words.

A key element of the film's success is its unwavering commitment to believability. The family dynamic portrayed in Sentimental Value is defined with a rare and genuine authenticity. Skarsgård, Reinsve, and Lilleas disappear into their roles, embodying the true nature of a complicated father, daughter, and sister relationship. This authenticity is often conveyed through small, precise choices, such as a moment where Gustav buys highly inappropriate DVDs for his grandson, eliciting a wonderful, knowing laugh from Reinsve. The two then share a silent moment of unspoken joy, smoking and smiling together. Trier and his performers understand that strained relationships are not solely defined by their tension; they are also marked by moments where old bonds tentatively reform when talking ceases. By grounding their characters outside of constant emotional upheaval, the actors make their eventual emotional confrontations all the more resonant, avoiding the pitfalls of melodrama that often afflict Hollywood's portrayal of fraught family dynamics.

Though Sentimental Value is primarily a triumph of screenwriting and performance, the film’s exceptional technical craft deserves high praise. The fluid cinematography by Kasper Tuxen and the perfect editing by Olivier Bugge Coutté provide a confident visual language that never unnecessarily draws attention to itself. Working with these collaborators, Trier successfully imparts momentum to a very dialogue-heavy film that runs over two hours. The narrative is structured into chapters, separated by hard cuts to black, which gives the feature film the distinct echo of a great piece of fiction unfolding.

Gustav’s film is intentionally multifaceted, just as Trier's own work is. The text of Gustav’s film ostensibly concerns his mother, but it is clearly, simultaneously, about his daughter, his grandson, and himself. It is significant that the two central female characters are an actress (Nora) and a historian (Agnes), representing the profound interplay between artistic expression and historical curiosity—and how artists inevitably weave their personal lives into their professional work. Fanning’s portrayal of Rachel is excellent, capturing a well-meaning performer who struggles to reach the emotional depth Gustav requires because she has not lived the trauma. Her delivery of a heartbreaking monologue in English during a rehearsal is powerful, but the same monologue later achieves greater truth when spoken in its original language, demonstrating an authenticity Rachel cannot replicate. The film ultimately argues that great art requires lived experience, and that, in turn, great art is necessary for life itself.