Joachim Trier on the Art of Calculated Chaos

Joachim Trier’s Cannes Grand Prix-winning drama Sentimental Value (2025) may centre on a Norwegian family, but – as with all the director’s films – it tells a universal story about the human experience. The film follows Gustav Borg (Stellan Skarsgård), an ageing director who attempts to reconnect with his two daughters, Nora (Renate Reinsve) and Agnes (Inga Ibsdotter Lilleaas), after their mother’s death. He brings with him a screenplay written for Nora, a stage actor, loosely based on his own mother’s life. When Nora refuses the role, he casts American actress Rachel Kemp (Elle Fanning) instead, though the choice never feels quite right.

Several generations fold into each other around the family home, where Gustav’s mother once lived and where Nora and Agnes grew up. The house transforms into a film set for Gustav’s project, becoming a character in itself that embodies the weight of the past.

In the following conversation, the director discusses his extensive preparation for the film, his reaction to its reception and why, despite his international success, he remains committed to shooting in Oslo.

Abirami Logendran Let’s start in the wrong order, with the film’s reception. You received the Grand Prix at Cannes and a strong response at the New York Film Festival, and now there’s Oscars buzz around this film. Does that external validation matter to you?

Joachim Trier That’s a complex question. Competition in filmmaking is often contradictory, but it also draws attention to cinema as an art form. And success in filmmaking means you get to continue making films. I’m lucky to work within a European support system that was fought for politically over decades. My grandfather, filmmaker and musician Erik Løchen, came to Cannes in 1960 with The Chasers [Jakten, 1959], but back then Norway had no infrastructure to support filmmakers, and he couldn’t continue working. He fought for a public film policy, and I’m a beneficiary of his work. I always dreamed my films would communicate internationally because I grew up with cinema from all over the world while coming from a small country. So when there’s attention around my films and they’re shown everywhere, that feels like a privilege.

AL We’re both from Oslo, so I’m curious: given that your previous film, The Worst Person in the World [2021], was so well received internationally, you could presumably make a film anywhere – why stick to Oslo for this story?

JT I live here, and I know this place. Filmmaking is about creating a feeling, a vibe, and if a film has that emotional quality, it moves me. Directors like [David] Lynch or [Andrei] Tarkovsky have this enormous emotional language, an atmosphere they create. My films don’t necessarily represent Oslo realistically; it’s an imagined space. But I know concrete places in the city where I can achieve what I’m after – knowing the sun sets at that street corner, knowing what it feels like to stand there when you’re in love. That intimate understanding of the city allows me to create the right feeling.

AL Elle Fanning plays an American actress performing a Norwegian woman’s story in translated English, with the film suggesting that this doesn’t quite work. Now that your film is travelling internationally, do you worry about what gets lost in translation?

JT I mostly make stories about dynamics between people, about human experience, and that can be quite universal. Whether in France, Belgium, the USA or at festivals, people react to the same things: sibling dynamics, adults still negotiating relationships with parents, being placed in roles they’re unresolved with. But there are some nuances. As someone whose grandparents lived through World War II, I know how deeply embedded it is in our culture and how it hit Norwegian families. I’ve included it in this film and discovered people internationally don’t know much about how Norway was affected by the war. But misunderstandings and room for interpretation shape how we experience art, and I embrace it.

AL When I watch your films, every visual element feels so deliberate and intentional, like each individual aspect has a specific place. How much do you plan in advance, both in terms of shots and scripting?

JT The script is finalized when we start shooting. But I’m very process-oriented, and I see chaos and control as the two creative aspects I’m constantly dancing between – that’s what creates aesthetics for me. My team and I plan extensively – script drafts, locations, lighting, blocking – so that we have maximum time to play when we’re on set and actors can influence the final outcome. On shooting day, I try to forget all the intellectual preparation and just be intuitive, actually changing the plan quite a lot when I feel the energy of the scene in the moment.

AL Do you have an example from Sentimental Value?

JT In a scene near the end where the two sisters are on a bed together, I saw in the moment that they needed to embrace. It wasn’t in the script. I quickly said to them, ‘Go back and hug.’ They did it and said things that weren’t scripted, and it became one of the most important scenes in the film. That’s the most fun part of filmmaking for me: setting up the control so life and chaos can happen in the moment. Control mustn’t come in and ruin that space.

AL The film portrays certain changes as losses: the renovation of the family house turns it sterile and generic; Gustav gives his grandson DVDs and is saddened by his long-time director of photography being too old to work. You’re shooting on 35mm and often take a classical approach to the craft of filmmaking. Is there a sense of aesthetic nostalgia at work here?

JT The film tries to create room for interpretation. There’s ambivalence about the house disappearing from the family. There’s something mournful about giving it up, but also something lovely about letting go. The gentrification element, where everything gets turned into something that looks like a fancy hotel instead of preserving specificity, clearly carries a political message. But I don’t want to just mourn what’s lost – that would be too simple.

AL In the film, art plays a redemptive role: Gustav’s screenplay is a vehicle for reconciliation. Do you believe art can have that power? And given that this is a film about a director, did making it serve a similar function for you?

JT I’ve felt seen through art many times in my life. I’ve found reconciliation in being able to relate to something outside myself, in a language that isn’t discussion. So yes, I think art does something, even if its function isn’t always clear.

At the same time, I’m very different from Skarsgård’s character. Writing takes place somewhere between longing, fear, curiosity and uncertainty. It’s something you’re exploring. Now that the film is being experienced by audiences, people tell me which aspects they find interesting. That’s very satisfying – to feel as if I’m in dialogue, having a conversation with a friend.

Joachim Trier’s Sentimental Value is released in theatres in the US on 7 November and in the UK on 26 December. 

_{Main image: Joachim Trier, Sentimental Value, 2025, film still. Courtesy: Mubi}