An intimate exploration of family, memories, and the reconciliatory power of art.
Joachim Trier’s Sentimental Value is not an easy film to pin down. It resists neat synopsis, unfolding instead as a meditation on family, grief, and the uneasy overlap between art and lived experience. At its center is the Borg family home, a structure that has witnessed decades of pain and intimacy, and which now becomes both a film set and a crucible for unresolved trauma. The result is a bilingual drama (spoken in Norwegian and English) that is at once languid in pace and emotionally piercing.
The story begins with sisters Nora (Renate Reinsve) and Agnes (Inga Ibsdotter Lilleaas) reuniting with their estranged father Gustav (Stellan Skarsgård), a once‑renowned director whose career has long since faded. Following the death of his ex‑wife, Gustav returns to the family home with a plan: to shoot his comeback film there. He offers Nora the lead role, a chance to embody her grandmother Karin, who committed suicide in the house after surviving torture during World War II. Nora refuses, unwilling to let her father mine her pain for art. Gustav quickly replaces her with Rachel (Elle Fanning), a young Hollywood star eager to work with him. This decision sets the stage for a fraught exploration of family wounds, artistic ambition, and the blurred line between healing and exploitation.
If Sentimental Value succeeds, it is largely because of its performances. Reinsve, who previously collaborated with Trier on The Worst Person in the World, gives a masterclass in controlled chaos. Her Nora is simmering with resentment, yet never reduced to caricature. In moments of silence, her face conveys more than dialogue ever could: the weight of betrayal, the pull of nostalgia, and the fear of repeating her father’s mistakes.
Skarsgård matches her intensity, portraying Gustav as both self‑aware and incapable of change. He knows he has failed his daughters, yet clings to the belief that art can redeem him. His charm is intoxicating, even when it is manipulative, and his desperation to remain relevant makes him both pitiable and infuriating. Lilleaas, as Agnes, offers a quieter counterpoint. Her calmness masks deep sorrow, particularly in a devastating scene where she reads her grandmother’s testimony of torture. Fanning, meanwhile, brings levity and perspective. As Rachel, she is the outsider who sees the family’s dysfunction more clearly than they do, and her presence highlights the cultural and generational divide at play.
The Borg family home is more than a backdrop; it is the film’s beating heart. Trier uses the house as a symbol of memory and fracture. A literal crack runs through its walls, the result of a construction error, but it also represents the fissures within the family. Gustav’s insistence on filming there forces the characters to confront the ghosts of their past. The house becomes a stage for grief, reconciliation, and confrontation, embodying the idea that trauma is inherited and embedded in physical spaces as much as in people.
At its core, Sentimental Value is about intergenerational trauma. Gustav’s mother Karin endured unimaginable suffering during WWII, and though she never spoke of it, the effects ripple through her descendants. Gustav’s attempt to turn her story into art raises uncomfortable questions: can filmmaking serve as therapy, or does it merely reopen wounds for the sake of narrative? Nora’s refusal to participate is both an act of defiance and self‑preservation, while Agnes’s quiet investigation into Karin’s past reveals the burden of inherited pain.
Trier also explores nostalgia; not as a trap, but as a potential source of growth. Gustav longs for the glory days of cinema, yet finds himself confronted by an industry that has moved on. His struggle mirrors the family’s inability to move past their origins. The film suggests that sentimentality, often dismissed as cloying, can be transformative when handled with honesty. Tender sibling moments, long gazes of recognition, and caustic confrontations all contribute to a portrait of a family learning, however imperfectly, to live with its scars.
The film runs 133 minutes, and its pacing is undeniably slow. Trier favors long takes, silences, and gradual revelations over dramatic twists. For some viewers, this will feel meandering, even frustrating. The narrative occasionally lacks urgency, and certain developments in the third act fail to deliver the emotional punch they seem designed to. The resolution, in particular, may strike audiences as too neat, letting Gustav off the hook when harsher consequences might have felt more earned.
Yet the languid pace also allows the film’s themes to breathe. The silences between characters speak volumes, and the slow burn of suppressed emotions creates a cumulative impact. Sentimental Value is less about plot than about atmosphere, memory, and the uneasy coexistence of love and resentment.
The strengths of Sentimental Value lie in its performances and thematic depth. Reinsve and Skarsgård, in particular, elevate the material, turning what could have been melodrama into something profound. The bilingual dialogue adds texture, highlighting the clash between cultures and generations. The symbolism of the house and its crack is powerful, grounding the film’s exploration of trauma in a tangible metaphor.
Its weaknesses are structural. The film is too long, and its pacing risks alienating viewers who crave narrative momentum. The ending may feel unsatisfying, offering reconciliation without fully addressing the harm Gustav has caused. These flaws prevent the film from reaching the heights it aspires to, but they do not negate its emotional resonance.
Sentimental Value is a film that lingers. It is not perfect, nor is it easy to summarize, but it resonates through its performances and its exploration of intergenerational trauma. Trier has crafted a drama that is both intimate and expansive, rooted in the wounds of personal history yet open to the possibility of growth. Its slow pace and occasional narrative shortcomings may frustrate, but its emotional evocativeness is undeniable.
For those willing to sit with its silences and absorb its atmosphere, Sentimental Value offers a rewarding experience. It is a film about the cracks that run through families, the ways art can both heal and harm, and the enduring pull of nostalgia. Cautiously positive is the right tone: this is not a flawless masterpiece, but it is a deeply intriguing work that captures the messy, unresolved nature of family life.
Sentimental Value is being released in NZ Cinemas on January 8, 2026