FILM REVIEW: Thelma is like a queer Carrie, with exquisite dread and chilling beauty

2017, Norway, directed by Joachim Trier, starring Eili Harboe, Kaya Wilkins, Henrik Rafaelsen and Ellen Dorrit Petersen.

Now screening as part of the Scandinavian Film Festival until 29th July.

Watch this if you liked: Let The Right One In (2008), Raw (2016)

Rating: A

Of the rapid rise of gay-themed films being released, the majority feel safe and comfortable. After the hetero-pleasingly basic Love, Simon, what queer cinema needed was a shake-up. Norwegian director Joachim Trier’s newest film, after his stunning English-language feature Louder Than Bombs, may be too niche and difficult to find to really make an impact, but those who seek it will be rewarded. For Thelma is one of the best and most intriguing attempts to find new ways to tell queer stories. The film uses telekinetic powers as a metaphor to represent the titular character’s attempt to understand and accept her attraction to another young woman, Anja.

Any mention of supernatural powers as metaphor automatically invites comparison to Brian De Palma’s seminal Carrie, especially as this film also shares an obsession with religious fanaticism and parental control. However, the thematic meaning behind Thelma’s almost god-like powers, which sees each of her deepest wishes fulfilled, is much queerer. For her, they represent a way of overcoming the strict views parents impart and her own related internalised homophobia. It’s almost too obviously an allegory, with some moments feeling forced (a snake going down Thelma’s throat is a particularly unsubtle metaphor for her feelings about sin).

However, the film allows room for a significant moral complexity. At one point, a character asks Thelma if it’s possible that Anja doesn’t really love her, that Thelma is just manipulating her with her gift. If every one of her deepest wishes is granted, how can she know that the feelings of those she loves are genuine? It’s a challenging and intriguing question, one that forces us to reconsider the narrative and Thelma’s position as the protagonist. That she’s asked this by a character that’s clearly using it against her just adds to the complexity.

From the gasp-inducing opening sequence, the audience is on edge, feeling a palpable sense of dread, fearful of and for Thelma. It’s one of the film’s finest tricks, creating a character that is both unnerving and deeply sympathetic, something it extends to many of its characters. Each has their own values and it’s hard to see anyone as a pure villain. Not even her parents come off badly, as we learn the reasons why they have treated Thelma this way in an eerily beautiful flashback. They clearly come from the ‘conceal, don’t feel’ school of parenting.

Thelma’s thematic nuance is matched by its visuals, which manage to turn moments of horror into subtle beauty, making the most of the chilly Norwegian landscape. That said, one of the film’s best sequences is set indoors, turning a swimming pool into a huge, yet claustrophobic hell that ratchets up the tension until it’s almost unbearable. Another nerve-wracking sequence features strobe-lighting, a rare use of CGI and a shocking end that leaves a haunting note.

That Trier’s film ends on an ambiguous, note perfect grace note that is either romantic or disturbing depending on the viewer’s interpretation feels wonderfully in keeping for a film of such chilling beauty and exquisite dread.