Isn’t it unbelievable that this film is considered the best European film of 2025?! Poor European film industry—how far it has sunk. This is not a bad film, but it is such a lightweight creation in every respect.
First of all, the script is a pathetic attempt to manufacture a Chekhovian drama out of a family-reunion story. It is heavy with clichés and obsessively focused on the self-indulgent “issues” of the so-called creatives of this world—filmmakers and actors in particular. The introductory scene centers on the main character’s stage-fright “drama,” played with ambitious self-importance and pedal-to-the-metal intensity by Renate Reinsve.
Her father, a famous director, offers her a role in his latest autobiographical film (yet another narcissistic element). They have been estranged for years, and the mother has passed away. There are grievances to be aired and guilt to be atoned for. The daughter refuses the role, and both sisters want nothing to do with the father. This is the core conflict of the film. Please! Chekhov’s characters wrestled with far greater questions—such as the meaning of life or the impossibility of happiness. Compare that to two daughters sulking over their father’s return and his failed attempts to involve them in his next film project.
Stellan Skarsgård could have played this role with his eyes closed. Meanwhile, the overachiever quality in Renate Reinsve’s performance is far too conspicuous; it is as if she approaches every scene with the attitude of, “Look how good an actress I am!”
The film’s ending does carry a certain sentimental value, but it is nowhere near enough to elevate it into genuinely good cinema.
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