Oscar Winner "Sentimental Value": Why Some Things Suddenly Mean the World to Us
Finally! They've done it. At this year's Oscars, a murmur rippled through the crowd when Joachim Trier's “Sentimental Value” was named Best International Film. I was watching live and thought: About time, Norway. For years, the industry has whispered that the Scandinavians were due another big win – and now it's happened. A film that creeps up on you so quietly and then causes such a stir – that's quite an achievement.
It's about a family in Oslo, sorting through their mother's flat after her death. They stand there with boxes full of stuff: an old fountain pen, letters with yellowed edges, a chipped coffee pot. None of it is worth a cent, and yet they'd fight for every last thing. I know the feeling myself. That one book that smells of my grandmother's house. Or the frying pan that always made the best roast potatoes. That's the phenomenon, that invisible glue that binds us to things.
The True Value That No Price Tag Shows
We all have a keen sense of value – but here we're not talking about the price of gold. It's what we call sentimental value, that intangible worth an object holds for us. It defies any market economy. In the film, it's a simple guitar that belonged to the father, barely playable, out of tune. But the daughter insists on keeping it because her childhood is wrapped up in it. It's moments like these that Joachim Trier captures so masterfully. No wonder the film now has an Oscar – it shows us that we're all a bit sentimental about our possessions.
Books as Silent Witnesses
This week, I came across an English book in a bookshop in Dublin: “Once Upon a Tome: The Misadventures of a Rare Bookseller”. It's about a rare-book dealer in Bath who deals daily with other people's sentimental attachments. People bring in old books that are essentially worthless – but inside there's an inscription from 1923 or a pressed forget-me-not. And suddenly the book becomes a treasure. It's the same magic as in the film.
Sometimes I think: the things that truly matter to us have no price. They're just there, like silent companions. I've been thinking about which objects in my own life hold the most sentimental value. These are my top three:
- The worn-out record my father left me – it skips at the best part, but that's exactly what makes it special.
- A scrap of paper with a child's thank-you note from my niece, slipped under my apartment door.
- The old wall calendar from 1999 that I just can't throw away, because I jotted down my homework on it every evening.
I'll bet everyone has a box in the attic or a drawer full of things that would be utterly baffling to an outsider. But that's the beauty of it. “Sentimental Value” has now taken that idea to Hollywood – and I think it's exactly what those quiet treasures deserved.