Oscar Winner "Sentimental Value": Why Some Things Suddenly Mean the World to Us
Finally! They've done it. A ripple of excitement went through the room at this year's Oscars when Joachim Trier's "Sentimental Value" was named Best International Film. Watching it live, I thought: good on you, Norway. The industry's been whispering for years that the Scandinavians were due for a big win – and now it's happened. It takes something special to make a film that arrives so quietly but creates such a stir.
It's about a family in Oslo, sorting through their late mother's apartment. They're standing there with boxes full of stuff: an old fountain pen, letters with yellowed edges, a cracked coffee pot. None of it's worth a cent, yet they'd fight to keep it all. I know the feeling myself. That one book that still smells like grandma's place. Or the frying pan that always made the best hash browns. It's that phenomenon, that invisible glue that binds us to things.
The real value that doesn't come with a price tag
Here in Australia, we know a thing or two about value – but we're not talking about property prices. It's what you'd call sentimental value, that emotional worth an object holds for us. It completely blows market value out of the water. In the film, it's a simple guitar that belonged to the father, barely playable and out of tune. But the daughter desperately wants to keep it because it holds her childhood memories. It's moments like these that Joachim Trier captures so masterfully. No wonder the film's now got an Oscar – it shows us that we're all a bit sentimental deep down.
Books as silent witnesses
I came across an English book in a shop this week: "Once Upon a Tome: The Misadventures of a Rare Bookseller". It's about an antiquarian bookseller in Bath who deals with other people's sentimental attachments every day. People bring in old books that aren't worth much – but inside there's an inscription from 1923 or a pressed forget-me-not. And suddenly, that book becomes a treasure. It's the same magic you see in the film.
I sometimes think: the things that really matter to us don't have a price. They're just there, like quiet companions. I had a think about which of my own belongings carry the most sentimental value. Here are my top three:
- My dad's worn-out record he passed down to me – it skips at the best part, but that's exactly what makes it special.
- A little thank-you note my niece wrote as a kid and slipped under my apartment door.
- An old wall calendar from 1999 that I just can't throw out because I wrote my homework in it every night.
I'll bet everyone's got a box in the shed or a drawer full of stuff that would make absolutely no sense to anyone else. But that's the beauty of it. "Sentimental Value" has taken that idea all the way to Hollywood – and honestly, those quiet treasures deserve it.