Review, Trailer, Cast, and Watch Online of The Worst Person in the World (2022)
An uneasiness arises when, according to the punitive standards of society, one’s youth inevitably begins to disappear. As you approach adulthood, with your twenties now over and your thirties ticking down, the urgency to become, to achieve, to fall in love forever with, is to prove. For that you have something to show for your earthly time, dwells in.
Realizing that the burning light of promise is quickly extinguished, consumed by milestones imposed by the status quo, Norwegian director Joachim Trier’s phenomenally inventive play “The Worst Person in the World”, his unplanned, yet Spiritually is the third installment in the Oslo Trilogy.
“I feel like a spectator in my life,” says Julie (Renate Reinesway), a young woman still piecing together the spectrum of her emotional wants and needs. She explains it to her boyfriend, Aksel (Anders Danielson Lai), who is more than a decade older than her. In Julie, millennials’ anxiety erupts in flames of hopelessness and becomes trapped as she wrestles with self-discovery.
Divided into a dozen chapters (plus a prologue and an epilogue), the literary-structured film introduces Julie to a montage of her college days, in a vortex of indecision and exploration, amid career path changes and romantic feuds. is trapped. But by the end of the first act, Julie will be 30 and face the looming question of potential motherhood.
Trier and her longtime co-writer Eskil Vogt continually solidify our understanding of Julie and her romantic partners through insightful visual digressions directed by the voice of a female narrator. Soaked in Harry Nilsson’s deceitfully cheerful lyrics, his high-spirited narrative language finds the perfect vehicle for the way cinematographer Casper Tucson imbues the characters’ real scenes with the softest, most beautiful lights of the Nordic skies.
After working in medicine and photography, working in a bookstore, Julie is now under the shadow of Axel, an eminent cartoonist of politically incorrect material. He’s a safe choice, a reasonable partner, but he’s not ready for the commitment he wants. A montage adds to the feeling that he is behind in the program of life, showing how generations of women of his lineage were already raising children his age.
Part of Julie’s development is in “The Worst Person in the World”, as she navigates an estrangement from her father, a situation or a person to step away from in order to pursue her own happiness. His fate comes from moments. There is an agency in his perceived recklessness that places him in a tangle between teenage hedonism and expected maturity.
Yet, addressing the selfishness necessary to allow herself to proceed based on her instincts, she shows deep compassion for the human being on the other side of every scholarship. It is in the scenes where Julie and Aksel vent grief for things that may never come between them, that Trier captures an almost startling display of honesty, getting rid of any defensive armor. Here are two people who love each other, who can accept the impossibility of their union at the moment.
Reinsway’s performance is a chant of the highest caliber, an act of pure acting magic that fluctuates throughout Julie’s evolving arc. By allowing us to observe the character over time and in different facets, Trier gives Reinsway a platform to not only show the range but to build a character in a smaller way, but Highly emotional modulation explains: her faint smile or an unattainable joyous grin when she tries to cry, her dance with abandon, or the way she stands her ground with a destructive determination.
Through him, Julie grows up at her own pace. She often rushes towards something that is temporary but exciting, only to find that perhaps she is looking for answers in the arms of another, when they are always drawn to her only. To think that Reinsway hasn’t turned out in the 10 years between her first on-screen appearance in Trier’s “Oslo, August 31” is disrespectful. But in a sense, a period of trying and not accomplishing success until her early thirties has formed a relationship with her fictional personality.
Danielson expresses the same sweetness as Lai Eckel, even as a man who is unwilling to let go of the obsolete. She also has an embarrassingly recognizable fear of losing her edge, only to learn that the sensible fears we once scoffed at are waking us up in the night. For youth artifacts, how Aksel’s speech has survived at some point to see who we were is a striking gut-punch.
In those intense duets of honesty that Trier stages between an impeccable Danielson bring and a mesmerizing reinsway, the actor repeatedly puts on a smile that appears as though his cheekbones are fighting to hold back the flood of tears. are. There is a desperate solicitation in her eyes that reads almost like children, acknowledging that her artistic triumphs did not reduce her squeamishness to find meaning in the sum of her mortal days.
Each chapter of “The Worst Person in the World” feels like a complete, unique idea that encapsulates something real in unrealistic visual terms—like a track on an eclectic album that, even though they differ in tone, Contains a consolidated whole. Tucson and editor Olivier Bagge Cte embellishing the playfulness of the screenplay, Trier envisions highly evocative examples such as the agile camera movements that accompany Axel as he plays air drums in a musically driven trance, or a drug addict. -Trip in the hilarious weirdness of the Apostle with a splash of animation.
A prime example of Trier’s cinematic fervor is a sequence where Julie meets Eywind (Herbert Nordrum), a new lover. The two promise not to cheat on their partner with each other, but the pair engage in a flirtatious dance of intimacy that transcends sexuality. Later, she dreams of making time to cross over to Oslo for an afternoon of kisses and surprises, in one of Romanticism’s most spectacular displays of mischief-laden thrills.
Trier and Vogt are poets of longing for what is to come when trapped in a complex current, and have revisited this idea in their work, notably in their Oslo-set Escapade. In “Reprise”, the young writers learn that success does not equal fulfillment, while in the more gloomy “Oslo, August 31”, an addict sees no reason to continue despairing into his thirties. That they can still associate so intensely with this disturbing condition is a sensational quality familiar to many.
“The Worst Person in the World,” Trier’s masterpiece, opens piecemeal but once fully expanded is a tapestry of immaculate experiences sown with threads of truth, in all its painful ambivalence. In. This can only confirm that perhaps there is no turning point in which life begins for good.
For our moment here—an inconsistent symphony of beginnings and conclusions, small victories and big disillusions, all without a grand design—maybe the plans that fell, Julie and ours, didn’t matter as much. The value is in the bravery of seeing a former dream or past relationship break up and still try again from scratch; To be aware that the same mistakes can happen and that growing pains can never disappear, to accept that we are on nobody but our own timeline.
Source: Carlos Aguilar, Roger Ebert, Direct News 99