One of the main reasons why I stay away from films and shows in the drama genre is because most of them hit a little too close to home, but that’s also the main reason why I end up judging them too harshly. Death, family politics, financial fluctuations, dysfunctional relationships, generational trauma, legal trouble, discrimination, lies, betrayal, hopelessness, hopefulness, love, hatred—you name it, and I have seen it unravel either within the confines of my family tree or those around me. So, seeing even a shadow of these facets of life in a movie (or a show), without added flavors like horror, action, comedy, or sci-fi, puts me on the edge. When I was younger and more naive, I used to wade into “dramatic” waters without a single thought, but now it’s the last thing I’d want to voluntarily inflict upon my fragile psyche. With all that in mind, I must say that Let Go was a complex affair. Allow me to explain why while somehow trying to not address the spoiler-filled elephant in the room because Netflix has asked me not to.
Josephine Bornebusch’s Let Go (its Swedish title is Slapp Taget) tells the story of a family of four: Stella, Gustav, Anna, and Manne. Stella is seemingly a homemaker. Gustav is a couple’s counselor. Anna is a budding pole dancer. Manne is probably an aspiring “Luchador” with a gluten allergy. Gustav is clearly having an affair with his colleague, Angela, and he wants to get a divorce so that he can live with his lover instead of having to tolerate his family. When Gustav breaks this news to Stella, she refrains from revealing her secret and instead puts all her focus on Anna’s upcoming pole dancing competition. Anna planned to forge Stella’s signature and attend the competition alone (because she hates everyone), but looking at the state of things, Stella turns this into an opportunity for some family-bonding time. Anna obviously isn’t happy with this arrangement. Gustav isn’t glad that he isn’t allowed to abandon his family after being an absent father and husband. Stella hopes that this adventure is going to make Gustav a responsible parent. And Manne is just along for the ride. Whether or not the family will survive this ordeal is what forms the crux of the story.
I don’t think it’d be unfair to say that Bornebusch’s (who is the writer, director, and lead actor of Let Go) script is a 110-minute-long buildup to a visceral gut punch. But I think I’d be courting controversy by saying that the “twist” of the narrative is unnecessarily cruel and comes close to undermining the educational exercise that the rest of the movie is. Bornebusch does a really solid job of highlighting the fact that men have historically shown the tendency of being absent in a marriage and then shirking all responsibilities altogether when the going gets tough. I’m not claiming that women don’t go for divorce, but it usually comes at the end of an endless barrage of misogyny and abuse. However, in the case of men, especially those who remarry a bunch of times, a family they’ve turned their back on seems nothing more than a failed experiment. So, Stella’s decision to not give Gustav an easy exit right when their daughter’s teenage angst is at its peak and their son is way too chaotic is great. Stella’s strategy of making Gustav a responsible parent is mind-blowing. That said, as Bornebusch starts critiquing Stella’s “control freak” behavior, explores the idea of “letting go,” and then presents that rushed ending, the whole film feels surprisingly (and maybe unnecessarily) cruel for the sake of being melodramatic.
Maybe I am judging Let Go too harshly because its subject matter is too personal for me, which is fine, because we critics haven’t signed a blood oath with Satan which compels us to be objective while talking about something as subjective as cinema just to retain our jobs. But whenever any movie or show uses the thing (which I can’t reveal because it’s a spoiler) that Bornebusch uses as a plot twist, it always feels grossly manipulative to me. I respect movies and shows that don’t use this specific thing as a plot twist or as fuel to bring about change in some other character because at least they understand the gravity of said thing and they have the maturity to not wield it to exploit people’s emotions. Bornebusch’s approach to it has the nuance of a Dhar Mann video (it’s truly appalling how many times he has used the aforementioned plot twist for his horrible “content”) and is oddly similar to Cat Hostick’s The Road Ahead. Yes, the cinematography, editing, production design, costume design, and overall visual storytelling are much better than a Dhar Mann video or Cat Hostick’s film, but is that enough to make me ignore the heartless treatment of the protagonist? I don’t think so. Also, it’s weird that both Let Go and The Road Ahead are made by women whose female leads go through hell to turn a manbaby into an adult.
The performances from the cast of Let Go are the only thing I’m not confused about because all the actors in the film are great. I’m always amazed by actors who direct themselves in a movie where they are the lead, especially when it’s a good performance. I mean, let’s be honest, we’ve all seen a bunch of overindulgent projects where the writer-director-actor hogs the limelight and doesn’t give anyone else their moment to shine. But Josephine Bornebusch isn’t like that. Her performance as Stella is pretty understated. You can feel her odd mix of exhaustion and determination to keep her family together during this impromptu vacation. Her chemistry with Olle Tikkakoski, Sigrid Johnson, and Pal Sverre Hagen is amazing. Hagen will get your blood boiling because of his portrayal of Gustav’s stupidity, ignorance, and arrogance, and I mean that as a compliment. Sigrid Johnson is fantastic. Initially, the level of frustration that she exhibits seems uncalled for, but with each passing moment, she becomes the most relatable character in the film. Tikkakoski is adorable in the role of Manne, and so is Tone Danielsen as Astrid. Leon Mentori, Niklas Falk, Irma Jamhammar, Lola Zackow, and Matthew Lithner are brilliant.
I’m really conflicted about Let Go. On the one hand, I really liked the commentary on parenthood, gender roles, and what it takes to make a family tick. As mentioned earlier, I think the overall filmmaking is competent, and the performances that Bornebusch has extracted from the cast are worth appreciating. On the other hand, I was repulsed by the plot twist, to be honest. Unless it’s inspired by a true story or based on some anecdotes from Bornebusch’s life, at the cost of sounding repetitive, the treatment of its protagonist feels unnecessarily cruel. Akira Kurosawa’s Ikiru is probably one of the best films that uses a tragic arc to send the message that we should appreciate life when we have the time to do so, while being critical of its central character’s flaws and shortcomings. Yet, it doesn’t feel like it’s milking the real-life horror of the subject matter that that film is centered around (I’m trying to be as spoiler-free as possible). Anyway, if you don’t mind watching family dramas without getting too personal about it, feel free to check out Let Go.
