‘Dreams’ Review: An Insightful Norwegian Trilogy About Intimacy Concludes With a Piercing Study of Queer First Love

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At the onset of the film “Dreams” (Drømmer), there’s a scene where 17-year-old Johanne, portrayed with profound melancholic contemplation by Ella Øverbye, discusses her decision to avoid classical ballet following a modern dance class with an instructor. She states, “I heard it’s based on outdated views about gender roles and should be abolished.” The subtle humor in this straightforward rejection, which takes a jab at the rigid norms of 21st century sexual politics while still questioning their validity, is typical of Dag Johan Haugerud’s insightful and empathetic queer coming-of-age tale.

In the opening scene of “Dreams”, 17-year-old Johanne, played with deep melancholic thought by Ella Øverbye, shares her reason for avoiding classical ballet after a modern dance class with an instructor. She says it’s because she heard it’s based on outdated gender stereotypes and should be banned. The humor in this casual rejection, which criticizes the rigid norms of modern sexual politics while still questioning their authenticity, is common in Dag Johan Haugerud’s intelligent and empathetic queer coming-of-age story.)

The movie serves as the final installment of a trilogy by the gifted Norwegian filmmaker, revolving around themes of emotional and physical intimacy. It’s already astonishing that he managed to create three thematically connected yet distinct films in just one year; what makes it even more impressive is that all three are exceptional. Despite being very dialogue-heavy, Haugerud has a unique ability to make conversations feel like flowing, engaging, and cinematic narratives.

The trilogy started with “Sex”, initially screened in the Panorama segment at the 2024 Berlinale, exploring the unexpected fluidity of sexual identities for two apparently straight married men. Following this was “Love”, which debuted in the main competition of the Venice Film Festival last autumn and chronicled the journey of two hospital staff members – a heterosexual woman and a gay man – as they navigate the thrilling, complex landscape of modern dating apps in search of both sexual and emotional connections.

The new film is unique as it focuses solely on a young adult character, contrasting tender emotions with sharp wit. It delicately investigates the protagonist’s feelings, Johanne, who also exhibits occasional fits of immaturity and melodrama.

A significant part of the character’s story unfolds through voiceover narration, fitting considering that it seems more about Johanne’s poetic exploration of her feelings rather than her intense crush on the new teacher, Johanna (Selome Emnetu). In fact, their similar names suggest an immediate connection for Johanne towards this enigmatic figure from the American Midwest who moved through Paris, awakening in Johanne a desire she had never known before as a student.

Haugerud’s approach to the material is neither inappropriate nor judgmental, but Johanne’s sexual and romantic development carries a strong sense of longing. The mere thought of Johanna’s thick sweaters and the tactile sensation of wool against Johanna’s skin seems almost dreamlike and sensual. Johanne describes feeling Johanna’s presence within her, a peculiar sensation she doesn’t yet fully comprehend.

Eagerly, the smitten pupil makes an effort to cross paths with her fresh mentor, finding opportunities in school hallways, staff rooms, or outdoor spaces. In a touching yet comical moment, she accidentally injures herself upon witnessing two classmates presenting Johanna a homemade scarf for her birthday. Her mixture of envy and self-deprecation, expressed through thoughts like “Why didn’t I come up with that?” and “I can’t even knit,” is subtly amusing.

For those who vividly remember the exhilarating thrill of young love and the all-consuming focus on one individual over everything else, the novel Dreams will resonate deeply. Similarly, it will echo with readers who have experienced the devastating pain of heartache, along with the seemingly senseless jealousy and anger towards anyone who comes near that special person.

Johnnie becomes troubled by the idea of other students participating in a knitting group that doesn’t include her. This feeling is skillfully portrayed in Anna Berg’s music, where rich, romantic melodies are layered upon a somewhat uneasy undercurrent.

1. Johanne is feeling overwhelmed and decides to find her teacher’s address in order to express her feelings towards her.
2. Upon arrival, she breaks down in tears and has a comical conversation with her teacher, who suggests that Johanne might be overburdened by the pressures of school.
3. In a fortunate turn of events, Johanna offers to teach Johanne how to knit as a means of relaxation.
4. From then on, Johanne skips dance class and instead goes to her teacher’s apartment, growing infatuated with being near the older woman physically.

About a year ago, Johanne wrote an intriguing romantic account or perhaps a novella about her initial love affair. The line between truth, exaggeration, and complete fiction is skillfully maintained as a mystery. It’s Haugerud’s humor that truly shines in the reactions of Johanne’s grandmother, Karin (Anne Marit Jacobsen), initially, and later her single parent, Kristen (Ane Dahl Torp), to these revelations.

Neither of the older women show any signs of being taken aback by the disclosed queer feelings – after all, they’re in Norway, not North Dakota. Johanne remains ambiguous about her stance, yet Kristen becomes somewhat agitated at the notion that her daughter might have been sexually victimized by an adult, hinting at reporting the teacher. There’s a touch of comedy in how quickly Kristen is convinced when Karin argues that Johanne’s manuscript doesn’t portray a victim’s viewpoint, swiftly agreeing that it could be published and serve as a significant feminist piece.

Karin’s evolving response to tickling becomes even more delightful, skillfully portrayed by Jacobsen with unwavering enthusiasm. As a published poet, Johanne’s character, Nan, is thrilled by the literary possibilities of the piece, as it reminds her of her own past encounters with love and intimacy. Kristin too finds herself reflecting on her past decisions. Haugerud cleverly spotlights female desire for the first time in this trilogy, with men taking a supporting role at the edges.

The way Karin reacts to tickling is very entertaining and Jacobsen plays it out wonderfully. Johanne’s character, Nan, loves how the story makes her think about love and relationships from her past because it reminds her of similar experiences. Kristin also starts thinking about her past choices. For the first time in this trilogy, Haugerud focuses only on female desire and men are less important.

In one of the most humorous moments from the film, Kristin and Karin stroll through the forest. During their walk, the daughter chides her mother for being strict about letting her watch Flashdance when she was just ten years old. In response, Karin, a prominent feminist, expresses her disapproval of the movie’s perpetuation of harmful stereotypes towards women.

There’s quite a bit of funny irony in how Karin feels envious professionally when her editor seems to appreciate Johanne’s work more than they have with hers. It’s amusingly casual how Nan underplays the editor’s response when she shares this news with Johanne.

Out of respect and according to their request, Johanna should be given the opportunity to review the text prior to its release. While there’s a slight formulaic feel to the portrayal of this effortlessly cool queer character showing hesitation about being the potential victim of sexual abuse, Johanna is otherwise skillfully crafted as a character by Haugerud. Actress Emnetu brings a natural ease and comfortability to her role, making her character alluring in an authentic way.

Among the three movies, “Dream” is the one that resonates most profoundly with the director’s past as a novelist. The film’s exploration of how we construct and preserve our memories through thought and writing, with a focus on the poignant moments of first love, serves as one of its powerful emotional undercurrents. Additionally, it adds a layer of depth that a character from “Love” (Lars Jacob Holm), a psychologist, appears briefly yet insightfully towards the end of the storyline.

Cinematographer Cecilie Semec, responsible for capturing all three parts of the trilogy, once more lends sharp lines and warmth to the Oslo backdrop. She unearths an evocative theme within contemporary architecture’s striking structures, notably staircases and stairwells, which may symbolize Johanne’s journey towards emotional maturity while simultaneously hinting at Nan’s challenging struggle in a vivid dream, signifying that it persists.

Haugerud’s “Sex/Love/Dreams” trilogy, with its clever interwoven words in the title, is an impressive feat that deserves recognition for its complex thematic depth and delicate execution. Smart film programmers and art house distributors should be eager to present these three movies as a cohesive series.

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2025-02-21 21:25