The Worst Person in the World | Review

As a sucker for any movie that falls into the ‘messy female protagonist’ genre, I was very excited for The Worst Person in the World. And I can say that it did not disappoint… to an extent. Julie is an attractive, intelligent, and charismatic young woman who, for one reason or another, does not seem to have any focus. She hops from degree to degree, from career to career, and is stuck in limbo when it comes to deciding whether or not she wants to have children. Essentially, she has no idea which direction she is headed towards, and instead allows herself to be guided by the various men in her life. It isn’t all bad, as this has brought her relative comfort and a fulfilling partnership with her older boyfriend, Aksel. That is, until she meets Eivind - a local barista who threatens whatever stability a life with Aksel can provide her.

This film is gorgeous. Every shot is washed with mellow tones, offering a sense of hyper-realism that isn’t always executed in contemporary films. The wardrobe stands out in particular - it was not until The Worst Person in the World that I saw costumes which completely reflected the type of outfits I see passing by on the street. Perhaps it’s the Scandinavian quality.

Joachim Trier is artful in his interpretation of the rom com genre. While his settings are hyper-realistic, he fuses in elements of surrealism that push us further into Julie’s mind. Whether it’s time standing still as Julie makes a major, life-altering decision - or Julie confronting her father as she pulls a massive tampon out during a bad trip, Trier’s metaphors are potent.

I appreciate that every character “contains multitudes”. Julie can be incredibly selfish and flighty. Eivind lacks ambition. Aksel is a bit of a pompous contrarian. Yet that doesn’t stop us from feeling empathy towards them. Trier has written complex people - contemporary in its delivery but timeless in its emotions. The scene where Julie and Eivind first meet is particularly stunning. Trier really builds that feeling of danger and thrill that is baked into adultery, inhibiting us from fully condemning either character for their actions. This is a film about choices, and the ripple effects they can have on those around us - however minute. It handles this universal, subtle theme with a considerable level of nuance. 

However, I did feel an overwhelming sense, especially by the third act, that this is a film written by men. I enjoyed it thoroughly and will probably revisit it often, but I did not resonate with it in the same way I did with, say, Frances Ha. Julie is selfish, but that is the extent of her flaws. In most instances, she is completely irresistible to men. She is also always in command of her interactions with others (maybe with the exception of her negligent father). It may have been the expectations of “messiness” that I placed on the film, but Julie didn’t feel like a fully realized character. This is particularly when compared with Aksel, whose story dominates the third act. I felt that we saw every shade of Aksel - all of his inner worries and desires, his fears for the future, and his moral complexities, in a way that we didn’t with Julie. She felt distant to me, despite occupying significantly more screen time. Her feelings about child bearing were particularly underdeveloped, as it did not seem that Trier or his writing partner Eksil Vogt had anything new to say about the matter.

That being said, I highly recommend this film!