New Release: The Worst Person in the World
Oscar season is officially upon us, and none of us are safe from random cinephiles’ worst hot takes on the hottest new releases. Among the many greatly anticipated films of 2022, The Worst Person in the World, nominated for Best International Feature Film and Best Original Screenplay, is likely one of the most deserving of the hype.
Joachim Trier’s dark romantic dramedy displays four intimate years of Julie’s young adulthood. The film explores the intricacies, uncertainties, and beauty of these chapters of life, and the raw and tender emotions associated with one’s youth slipping away. Julie’s journey is both an endearing and lifelike adult coming-of-age, and an exposé of the frustrating pitfalls of the protagonist as she navigates her love life and career ambitions. At times, Julie is incredibly impulsive and childish, succumbing to her anxieties, and putting her wants and needs before those of the people who care about her.
While a beautiful testament to young adulthood, this film still harbors grief and guilt every step of the way, and the structure of the flick may lead to quite a narrow world in which characters must live. Split into distinct chapters, each vignette carries a short tale in Julie’s life, linked only by Julie herself and her emotions.
As film critic Richard Brody states, “the inconclusive vagueness and inchoate longings that suffuse the film, that constitute her very character, come off as the nature of life itself.”
Brody may find Julie’s indecisiveness frustrating, as well as her continual faux pas, but maybe this childish character is actually just the female antihero we’ve all been waiting for. After all, the title does indicate that the characters in this film are not exactly vestal angels with triumphant character arcs. And based on the Academy as well as Letterboxd users’ opinions, it’s safe to say that audiences enjoyed this scarily relatable, raw and unflinching tale of millennial anxieties.
Of this film’s surprising universality, director Joachim Trier said that in “many places in the world people are identifying with it, and that’s really moving. [...] As it turns out, it’s quite a serious film about how loss shapes our feelings about ourselves and the choices that we make… Also, we’re discovering the Western middle-class experience of feeling that identity and expectations is this big pressure on us — we share between different countries, it’s not only Norway or New York or Paris; many people feel these themes in their lives.”
A key element of why this film stands out is the female perspective. The Oslo Trilogy, an unplanned series by Joachim Trier highlighting the metropolitan experience of Oslo (Reprise [2006], Oslo, August 31st [2011], and The Worst Person in the World [2021]), had previously been saturated with male protagonists. But sexuality, aging, professional development, and family are all particularly poignant and multi-faceted motifs for a female 30-year-old rather than a male 30-year-old. When women are assessed and valued based on facets of their sexual capital, particularly beauty and youth, the inevitable loss of youth can be a terrifying experience, especially when then pressured to pursue motherhood. More pressure from family and the need to be taken seriously becomes even more intense. Just as a woman has experienced some sense of freedom, these outside pressures threaten to take it all back.
Julie knows this struggle all too well. Her father’s lack of presence in her life leaves her in a childlike state and yearning for acceptance. Throughout her tumultuous romantic relationships, settling down seems like the next step in her life, forcing her to assume the next role of womanhood––motherhood. Her relationships then become even more stressful, all because she’s still unsure of who she is and what she truly wants.
Most striking of all is how shamelessly contemporary The Worst Person in the World proves to be. All of the details, from sexual and romantic spontaneity to the subsequent emotional stunting of complicated familial relationships, create a stunning portrait of our truly inharmonious lives. In the end, viewers are struck by how life knocks us about, gives us the precious, delicate moments as well as the darkly comical ones, and forces us to take a serious look at ourselves even when we don’t want to.