Oscar Winner "Sentimental Value": Why Things Suddenly Mean The World To Us
Finally! They did it. A ripple of excitement went through the auditorium at this year's Oscars when Joachim Trier's "Sentimental Value" won Best International Film. I was watching it live and thought, finally, Norway's moment. Industry folks have been whispering for years that the Scandinavians were due for another big win – and now it's happened. To create a film that arrives so quietly, yet makes such a splash, that's a real achievement.
It's about a family in Oslo sifting through their late mother's apartment. They're surrounded by boxes 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 tooth and nail for every piece. I totally get it. That one book that still smells like your grandmother's place. Or the frying pan that always made the best crispy potatoes. It's that phenomenon, that invisible glue that binds us to objects.
The Real Value Money Can't Buy
We might have a keen sense for value here – but we're not talking about property prices. It's what we call sentimental value, that intangible 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 entire childhood. 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 little bit sentimental at heart.
Books as Silent Witnesses
This week, I stumbled upon an English book in a bookshop here: "Once Upon a Tome: The Misadventures of a Rare Bookseller". It's about a antiquarian bookseller in Bath who deals with other people's sentimental attachments every single day. People bring in old books that are practically worthless – but tucked inside is an inscription from 1923 or a pressed forget-me-not. And suddenly, the book becomes a treasure. It's the exact same magic you see in the film.
Sometimes I think: the things that truly matter to us don't have a price tag. They're just there, like silent companions. I started thinking about which items hold the most sentimental value for me personally. These are my top three:
- My dad's old, worn-out vinyl record that he passed down to me – it skips right at the best part, but that's what makes it, well, his.
- A little note with a childish thank you letter from my niece, which she once slipped under my apartment door.
- An old wall calendar from 1999 that I just can't throw away because I used to jot down my homework on it every evening.
I bet everyone has a box like that in their storeroom or a drawer full of things 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, these quiet treasures totally deserve their moment in the spotlight.