QUICK AND DIRTY: LIVE FROM BERLIN

Don’t be fooled by the empty philosophical platitudes and the seemingly dawdling and contrived voiceover that give shape to the first half an hour of this movie. This is not a silly film. These devices are entirely justifiable. They are used in order to convey the thoughts of an ingenious female adolescent in love putting her sentiments to paper. And as such, it is inevitable that these musings should exude a certain ingenuousness, and that they should come in a diary or school essay structure.

Seventeen-year-old Johanne (Ella Øverbye) lives in Oslo with her single mother Kristin (Ane Dahl Torp). Her loving granny Karin (Anne Marit Jacobsen) is a regular visitor. She becomes infatuated with her French teacher Johanna (Selome Emnetu), an irresistible mixed-race woman roughly twice her age with honey-coloured eyes and a killer smile. One day, she shows up uninvited at her near-namesake’s place. The two develop a genuine affection. But Johannne wants more than friendship. Her writings – a very graphic and extensive memoir of 85 pages – suggest that she may have achieved that.

A year later, Johanne shares the story with her grandma. The old woman, who happens to be a fading writer, does not reprimand her granddaughter. In fact, she wishes she had Johanne’s writing skills, spontaneity and age. But her envy is benign. She adores the adolescent, and will do anything in order to protect her. Her own daughter Kristin could pose the first threat, as she considers reporting Johanna to the police (the legal age in Norway is firmly at 18). So she tries to convince the overprotective mum that the entire relationship was consensual, while also reminding her that the adolescent made the first move, and that the racy passages may be just a figment of her daughter’s creative imagination. But the most persuasive argument is in favour of publication (and the prospect of a writing career). Maybe it would be best for everyone if the entire world could read Johanne’s manuscript? And maybe they could make some money?

The politics of sexual abuse are one of the film’s pillars. Director and writer Dag Johan Haugerud explores the thorny topic with a honesty and tender touch. His film is neither exploitative nor complacent. And he never condescends his characters. The 60-year-old director trusts all of them – teen, teacher, mother and grandmother – to have a robust opinion of the events. He allows these women to exposes their arguments and reflections in minute detail. Yet the truth remains ambiguous, with the filmmaker refusing to show us what really happened.

Creative writing is also a central topic. The director utilises the grandmother in order to question the dynamics and the ethics of literature. She is convinced that her daughter possesses a real talent for writing, and ponders the source of excellence, delicacy, candour. Despite the complexity of the topic, Haugerud never intellectualises the subject. There are no obscure references and namedropping. This is a universal film with a cogent and nimble script made for everyone to appreciate.

Dreams (Sex Love) just premiered in the Official Competition of the 75th edition of the Berlin International Film Festival. Not to be confused with Michel Franco’s Dreams, showing in the same competitive strand of the event.

This is the final entry in Hagerud’s Sex, Love, Dreams trilogy. The first entry Sex (2024), premiered just last year in the Panorama section of the 74th Berlinale. The second one, Love, showed later in the year Venice. Dreams (Sex Love) is the most feminine of the three films. It is guaranteed to fail the reverse Bechdel test.