Sentimental Value

Spoiler alert. It’s a brilliant movie, please watch.

I watched Sentimental Value before I left for Christmas in a small Kino near Boxhagener Platz. I teared up, I laughed, I hated the dad, I cried. But I left feeling light and resolved. This is my favourite kind of movie. It takes you through relatable emotional experiences of life condensed in just over 2 hours without the looming heaviness, total confusion, or the airy-fairy happy ending.

That moment where she’s about to get on stage and starts sabotaging herself was all too familiar. The tearing of the dress, the anxiety, the heavy breathing. She orders a slap from the co-star she sleeps with — an external push to get her shit together. But that’s not what she needed. What she needed was trust, the kind you internalize from a father who is present. A presence that says “I believe in you. I got you. You are safe.” She receives this sense of safety from the most unflashy character. A quiet colleague wearing a microphone (on the stage operations team?), someone she may not have even paid attention to. It was just a look, an exchange with no words. And out she walks onto the stage, steps into her power and bellows to set the tone for the play, for herself.