In a world of rampant noise and vulgarity, Joachim Trier, the Norwegian director of The Worst Person in the World, arrives, a little late, with the most civilised film of 2025.
[ The Worst Person in the World: Life lessons for millennialsOpens in new window ]
That is not to suggest Sentimental Value is a stranger to bad behaviour. Stellan Skarsgard is at his absolute best as Gustav Borg, a borderline-blocked filmmaker who returns with a project that, touching personal tragedies, disturbs already fraught familial relations.
All sorts of Scandinavian geniuses are referenced. Nora (Renate Reinsve), his daughter, has just taken a bad turn while performing in Henrik Ibsen’s A Doll’s House. That reminds us a little of Liv Ullmann being rendered silent as the actor in Ingmar Bergman’s Persona. Come to think of it, Gustav is, himself, a bit of a Bergman figure.
Oh, what a civilised collation of tasteful ingredients with which to end the year.
READ MORE
Sentimental Value is, however, more fun than that sounds. We begin with the Borg family home being set up as a metaphor that is not subsequently exploited.
Gustav left Norway following divorce and developed a career worthy – as we see played out – of a retrospective at a big film festival. The uneasy Nora has become a successful actor. The more balanced Agnes (Inga Ibsdotter Lilleaas) is a historian.
Gustav has the idea of shooting a film about his mother, a resistance fighter who hanged herself, but, not unsurprisingly, Nora baulks at the uncomfortable notion of playing the lead.
Much to the delight of Netflix, the fictional film’s potential funder, Rachel Kemp (Elle Fanning), an American star, then signs on for the job. Much disputatiousness results.

Rifle through the innards of Trier’s film and you will discover less substance than its Grand Prix at Cannes film festival promises. What we have is a beautifully played piece of highish-middle-brow filmmaking that makes the best of strategically staged confrontations.
Lilleaas and Reinsve go up against each other with nuanced vigour. Fanning, though not suggesting any real film star I can think of, has fun spreading trivial glamour about the place. Skarsgard deserves the Oscar he may well receive.
Indeed, so classy, sleek and attractive is the package that it’s easy to overlook the film’s thematic thinness. It is delightful to swallow, but it leaves little aftertaste once the morsel has passed the epiglottis.
In cinemas from St Stephen’s Day
















