Oscar-Winning "Sentimental Value": Why Things Suddenly Mean the World to Us
Finally! They did it. A ripple went through the crowd at this year's Oscars when Joachim Trier's "Sentimental Value" won Best International Feature Film. Watching it live, I thought: it's about time, Norway. The industry has been buzzing for years that the Scandinavians were due for another big win – and now it's finally here. Making a film that arrives so quietly, yet creates such a stir, is a real feat.
It's about a family in Oslo going through their late mother's apartment. They're standing there with boxes full of stuff: an old fountain pen, letters with yellowed edges, a chipped coffee pot. None of it is worth a nickel on the open market, and yet they'd fight tooth and nail for every piece. I know the feeling myself. That one book that still smells like your grandmother's place. Or the frying pan that always made the best grilled cheese. It's that phenomenon, that invisible glue that binds us to objects.
The Real Value That Doesn't Come with a Price Tag
Here in Canada, we have a pretty good handle on value – but we're not talking about real estate prices. It's called sentimental value, that intrinsic worth an object holds for us. It completely defies market logic. In the film, it's a simple guitar that belonged to the father, barely playable and out of tune. But the daughter absolutely has to keep it because it holds her childhood memories. It's moments exactly like this that Joachim Trier captures so masterfully. No wonder the film now has an Oscar – it shows us that we're all a little bit sentimental when it comes to our things.
Books as Silent Witnesses
This week, I stumbled upon an English book in a Toronto shop: "Once Upon a Tome: The Misadventures of a Rare Bookseller". It's about an antiquarian book dealer in Bath who deals every day with other people's sentimental attachments. People bring in old books that are essentially worthless – but tucked inside is an inscription from 1923 or a pressed forget-me-not. Suddenly, that book becomes a treasure. It's the same kind of magic you see in the film.
Sometimes I think: the things that truly matter to us don't have a price. They're just there, like quiet companions. I got to thinking about which items in my own life hold the greatest sentimental value. Here are my top three:
- The worn-out record my dad left me – it skips at the best part, but that's exactly what makes it special.
- A little thank-you note from my niece that she once slipped under my apartment door.
- An old wall calendar from 1999 that I just can't throw out because I jotted down my homework in it every night.
I bet everyone has a box in the basement or a drawer full of stuff that would seem completely baffling to an outsider. But that's the beauty of it. "Sentimental Value" has taken that idea all the way to Hollywood – and honestly, I think these quiet treasures deserve the spotlight.