She has been doing research on contemporary cinema, in particular American films and the relationship between film and society. She is currently heading the research project Face of Terror which investigates mediation of terrorism in cinema, news media and literature.
In the first chapter of The Worst Person in the World , protagonist Julie Renate Reinsve and her boyfriend Aksel Anders Danielsen Lie are spending time in a cabin with some friends of his, two other couples and their children.
To the viewer, and to Julie β younger, childless, and the newest addition to the group β the bright summer days in the modernist summer house seem, at times, like a holiday from hell. As a viewer, you are placed right there with her, in the middle of the dance floor, as she lets go and just is , lets herself be present in the moment. For a short moment, you see them dancing within, from the outside. When I open this analysis by looking at, really, a rather small scene from a film that is mainly memorable for its grander, more magical set-pieces, it because this scene is characteristic of both Julie, the protagonist, and Joachim Trier as a director.
One of his finest qualities as a filmmaker is the certain way he has of observing human nature and behaviour, and then putting them into a form of cinematic expression that creates a real sense of presence. Simultaneously, his films often also have a reflexive aspect, a form of commentary on their own narrative that makes us step back and become aware of our position as observers to the lives of others.
How we judge our own performance in the different roles we inhabit: am I a good partner, writer, friend, or father? Am I the worst person in the world?
