I went into this movie thinking it was going to be a biography of Elon Musk but upon learning through the previews (predominantly arthouse pictures in French) that this movie was–in fact–a Norwegian indie film about the romantic exploits of a twenty-something going on thirty (played by the thrilling Renate Reinsve), I was intrigued. Ok, partially untrue. I sort of knew that this movie was going to be a satire in the vein of HBO’s Girls or Fleabag, a romp through millennial angst by a beautiful, shallow villain, but Fleabag this was not. TWPITW is a film that’s deeply interested in self-loathing, the examination of self-sabotage, and the ineffability of quotidian disappointments, all themes that live close to the heart in these trying times.
TWPITW is at times imaginative and playful, as with the breakup scene’s repetition and omniscient narrator’s voice over, or the trippy (but not as trippy as Nate’s trip to the ER in Season Two of Euphoria, am I right?) shroom visions Julie experiences. The chapter called “Cheating” is probably my favorite of the entire twelve chapter with a prologue and epilogue set piece, the delicate way in which Julie self sabotages, accelerates a relationship by cutting past all the tropes of a meet cute and instead creating tension through the teasing of intimacy. The way that Elvind whispers a dark secret in her ear is maybe the sexiest and most exquisite representation of the fresh bravado that TWPITW has to offer.
But, as I said, all twelve chapters are not created equal and this movie cannot sustain its charm, momentum, or inventiveness evenly throughout. The four chapters and epilogue really drag and somehow transforms from a sassy tale of the vicissitudes of love as a young adult in quarter life crisis with imposter syndrome into a Robertson Davies novel where we must follow Julie through an improbably long period of personal growth (?) so that she can witness the irony of her own decisions from earlier in the movie without us questioning the laws physics or the speed of cancer. It seems like movies that take the long view of romance often times get mired in the cancer ward for some reason, as if it’s the modern dispensary of Wisdom, but what’s worse is that TWPITW vaccinates between taking itself too seriously and embracing a kind of hollow existential dread typified by the last two years, so its commentary on death, nostalgia, the #MeToo movement, art and representation feel more like empty signifiers than thoughtful takes. The critique of Elvind’s granola girlfriend feels especially dicey in its portrayal of ethnicity as performative liberalism and the movie’s confused take on third wave feminism is messy.
Hey, on this point, do you have time to crouch down into the weeds with me after you’ve seen this movie? Because I have some questions about the title and Aksel’s final lines about Julie being a good person? What the fuck is that? The film goes out of its way to portray Julie as an unambitious, gifted layabout, but not one who has embraced her depravity as in Ralph Fiennes’s character in 2015’s The Bigger Splash, more like stalled out, frustrated protagonists of The Pretenders or I Love You, Man, or the film’s emotional sibling, Fleabag, really. She knows she’s not supposed to be a “spectator in her own life,” but she doesn’t make real efforts to remove herself from the rut she’s grooved for herself. The insight provided by Aksel seems really undermined by her admission that she had broken off their relationship for Elvind without an admission that they had teased infidelity a couple times during separate relationships. In what sense is she good?
We see glimpses of them talking (mostly Aksel) about psychology and art, which Julie substantiates at his bedside, but other than the way she explodes at Elvind for reading her story and not having sufficiently detailed feedback, there don’t seem to be too many instances of that need being fulfilled in the Aksel-Julie Times. A lot of their relationship seems to be rocked by their fights about whether, when, and why they are having kids, which feels especially cringe, considering Aksel goes into their relationship with full awareness that his girlfriend is not interested, which leads to some of the most boring arguments imaginable in which he tries to logic his way to a baby, I guess? Their sex drive feels mismatched and the way she acts out for attention without really having much to offer in terms of her own drive to succeed personally makes it hard to sympathize with her when she flakes out of their relationship, but it’s also weird how the movie manifests a reason for them to get back together to reflect on how his ominous prediction about her regret would be confirmed in the Distant Future (a few years).
Ultimately, this movie is like a Stephen Sondheim fan in that it asks of you more of your attention than it is able to occupy and it will not let you leave without disappointing you in some deeply personal way. I can only assume that the four other people in the theater with me could also not get tickets to see The Batman two days early.
