The Worst Person in the World
Joachim Trier said that, before going to the National Film and Television School, he saw himself as a ‘formalist conceptual film maker’, going on to say it ‘turned out I was a humanist’. I thought the same of myself minus the filmmaking part. A formalist and conceptual film - watcher I think. Films like the Worst Person in the World make me think otherwise.
Theoretical and conceptual cinema, which I think Joachim is referring to, is a very exciting discovery to a filmgoer. It lures you in with films that were so different to what you see in the TV Sitcom and Hollywood bubble that they make you reconsider everything film should be. Bicycle Thieves, 400 Blows and anything that Stanley Kubrick made are prime examples that redefined the artform and make you think about film as being more than a film.
This is a trap, don’t be fooled. Before you know it, you will be sat through gruelling nights of Bela Tarr, Apichatpong Weerasethakul and silent Sergei Eisenstein films. I helplessly fell prey to this and - after a whirl wind of 14-minute-long-takes and non-linear narratives - woke up to find myself fighting the corner of form over everything. This peaked 2 years ago in my third-year dissertation titled: Inciting Change: How Do Formal Approaches to Character in The Pianist and Transit Affect the Construction of a Political Aesthetic in Film? The horror.
The thing about Formal cinema is that is it so often hard to watch, it’s about big ideas and needs an audience that will engage with the film from an outside perspective, not an audience that just wants to watch a film. The Worst Person in the World is not about politics, it’s not trying to incite change or figure anything out, it is about Julie. But this is why it is so good.
‘I love Julie’ says Joachim, ‘I am rooting for her’. It certainly feels like it, we are introduced to the character by a comforting voiceover telling us about the all too familiar trials Julie has as a young adult trying to decide what to do with her life in a light hearted and comedic fashion. The film hugs you and whispers in your ear: ‘it’s not just you, viewer, look, this person is in the same place.’ The film is instantly on Julie’s side and, heck, so am I baby. This is the formalist’s nightmare. And it is side by side with Julie that we are encouraged to think about a lot of life’s big questions.
This is the luxury of a humanist filmmaker, is while the film deals with life issues, it can do it in a comedic and comforting way. Joachim leads us by the hand as he considers death, love, legacy. We don’t, however, deal with politics, finance, gas/ electricity prices, we are too busy for that. It doesn’t fall into the category of ‘complexity of existence’.
These wide issues of life are Julie’s only concern as she frolics around meeting new people and falling in love, but the truth is that thinking about the universe is a luxury many can’t afford. Are these questions of the universe actually real problems? Many would say no, rent is real, I can’t get to work because it costs £100 to fill up my car. That is a real problem. Oslo is the 11th most expensive city to live in the world, how are Julie (a part time freelance photographer) and Eivand (a barista) affording their beautiful, open plan flat there? It made me think of the enormous New York apartments inhabited by an unemployed actor, a waitress, a cook (unemployed a lot), some sort of office worker, a researcher and a masseuse in the TV show Friends.
But you aren’t meant to think about this, it is a break from that, it is a relief that we aren’t faced with it. I’ve got enough on my plate, thank you. I watched this film horribly hungover and felt restored afterwards and that’s the effect I like in a film and why I am perhaps reconsidering my stance on Humanist filmmaking. At university, political and social things bothered me, I saw film as an instrument of good and a force to Incite change. I have since moved out, I pay rent, I go to work. When I have time, I don’t always want to sit and think about things I will never figure out. The Worst Person in the World whimsically enjoys life for what it is. It stands you next to Julie and says that it is fine to not be where you want to be, you don’t have to change the world every day.