Joachim Trier’s The Worst Person in the World is a film that feels like a whispered confession one that’s messy, deeply personal, and uncomfortably relatable. Structured in twelve chapters with a prologue and epilogue, this Norwegian gem follows Julie (Renate Reinsve, in a performance so natural it feels like eavesdropping), a woman adrift in her own life, as she navigates love, career, and the paralyzing weight of potential.

Reinsve’s Julie is a revelation a character who could easily slip into cliché (the indecisive, self-sabotaging millennial) but instead becomes something profoundly human. She’s not always likable, but she’s always real. Whether she’s fleeing a party to hook up with a stranger, impulsively changing career paths, or breaking hearts (including her own), Julie’s choices feel authentic in their contradictions. Trier avoids moralizing; this isn’t a story about becoming a “better” person, but about the awkward, nonlinear process of becoming yourself.

The supporting cast is equally superb. Anders Danielsen Lie delivers quiet devastation as Aksel, Julie’s older comic artist boyfriend whose stability begins to feel like a cage. Their breakup scene a raw, sprawling argument about aging and regret is one of the most brutally honest depictions of a relationship’s end ever put to film. Herbert Nordrum, as the more free-spirited Eivind, offers a lighter counterbalance, though their connection, too, is tinged with melancholy.

Visually, the film is understated yet precise. Kasper Tuxen’s cinematography bathes Oslo in soft, natural light, making even mundane moments feel intimate. The now-iconic sequence where time freezes as Julie runs through the city to reach Eivind is magical realism at its most poignant a fleeting fantasy of escape that underscores how trapped she feels in her own indecision.

If the film falters, it’s in its final act, where the pacing lags slightly as Julie’s aimlessness begins to feel cyclical rather than revealing. Yet even this mirrors the film’s central truth: growth isn’t a montage. It’s slow, uneven, and often invisible until you look back.

The Worst Person in the World is a film for anyone who’s ever felt like they’re failing at life while everyone else figures it out. It’s funny, heartbreaking, and, above all, gentle a reminder that being lost isn’t the same as being broken.