Psychological Landscapes: The Visual Environment in Joachim Trier’s Cinema and Its Parallels in Agnès Varda’s Films
Nadine Arber (b. 1984) is a film scholar with a background in film studies, French language and literature. She is currently working on her Ph.D. project focused on Postcolonial Feminist Film Theory and MENA Cinema.
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Norwegian filmmaker Joachim Trier has gained recognition for his unique cinematic language, one that vividly expresses the internal worlds of his characters through their interactions with their environments. His films, such as Oslo, August 31st (2011) and The Worst Person in the World (2021), focus on deeply personal narratives that are often mirrored by the visual spaces these characters inhabit. This cinematic technique of connecting character psychology with visual environments is not only central to Trier’s style, but it also has a meaningful lineage that can be traced back to one of the pioneers of the French New Wave: Agnès Varda.
Agnès Varda, often considered the grandmother of the French New Wave, crafted films that similarly used spaces and environments to reflect her characters’ inner lives. Trier’s work, while evolving in a different cultural and temporal context, resonates with Varda’s approach, making both directors part of a larger cinematic conversation on how characters’ mental states are communicated through their relationships with their surroundings.
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Joachim Trier’s Cinematic Use of Space and Environment
In Joachim Trier‘s films, the environment is not just a backdrop but a living part of his characters’ world, often acting as an external representation of their internal emotional state. His 2011 film Oslo, August 31st is a prime example of how visual spaces become intertwined with character psychology.
The film tells the story of Anders (Anders Danielsen Lie), a recovering drug addict, as he navigates Oslo over the course of a single day, grappling with a deep sense of existential despair. The city becomes a reflection of his disconnection and isolation. The modern architecture of Oslo, cold and distant, parallels Anders’ internal emotional detachment, as he faces the hopelessness of his recovery and his inability to reintegrate back to the life he once knew.
As he moves through the modern, austere spaces of the city, the urban environment take on symbolic meaning. The film uses these spaces to heighten the sense of disconnection Anders feels, not just from his former life, but from the world around him. Trier carefully frames the city in wide, expansive shots, emphasizing Anders’ smallness within these impersonal spaces.
Oslo’s clean, orderly design contrasts with his feelings of isolation, shame, and futility. It symbolizes a world that has moved on, while the main character remains trapped in a cycle of self-doubt and regret. As he revisits old haunts and familiar people, the city’s evolving landscape serves as a painful reminder of his inability to return to society. In this way, Oslo is not just the setting for Anders’ journey – it actively participates in his emotional state, serving as a silent, yet ever-present character in the film.
Space through Varda’s lens
Trier’s use of the city as a reflection of a character’s inner emotional state finds a parallel in Agnès Varda’s Cléo from 5 to 7 (1962), where the protagonist Cléo (Corinne Marchand), a young singer awaiting potentially devastating medical results, also traverses a city – Paris – in real-time over the course of two hours. Both films employ the urban environment as a mirror of their characters’ evolving mental and emotional landscapes, using the city not just as a physical space but as a psychological one.
In Cléo from 5 to 7, the streets of Paris become an extension of Cléo’s inner turmoil as she moves from a superficial, self-absorbed state to one of existential awareness. The film begins with Cléo in a heightened state of anxiety and self-pity, obsessed with her beauty and fame. Varda’s depiction of Paris reflects Cléo’s initial emotional state, with the bustling, crowded streets representing her self-centered focus.
The city is full of life and activity, but Cléo feels detached from it, lost in her own fear of death. As she moves through the city, the spaces around her begin to change, paralleling her inner transformation. Varda uses visual techniques like mirrors, reflections, and fragmented images to symbolize Cléo’s fractured sense of self, much like Trier’s use of wide, alienating shots of Oslo to underscore Anders’ emotional isolation.
One key similarity between Trier and Varda’s storytelling techniques is their use of real-time narrative structure to heighten the psychological tension. In Oslo, August 31st, the entire film takes place in the span of one day, mirroring the compressed time frame in Cléo from 5 to 7. This temporal constraint allows both directors to immerse the audience in the character’s internal journey, as they experience the city alongside the protagonist. A single day (or, in Cléo’s case, two hours) creates a sense of urgency and inevitability, as the characters confront their deepest fears and existential dilemmas.
The cities themselves – Oslo and Paris – also play crucial roles in amplifying the characters’ emotional states. In Oslo, August 31st, the city serve as a reflection of Anders’ sense of alienation from the people and places he once knew. His visits to old friends and familiar places are marked by an overwhelming sense of distance, both physically and emotionally. In one scene, Anders sits in a café, watching life unfold around him as if through a pane of glass. The café’s sterile, modern design emphasizes his sense of being an outsider, unable to connect with the world around him. The architecture and urban spaces in Trier’s film thus reinforce the theme of disconnection, both from society and from oneself.
In Cléo from 5 to 7, the depiction of Paris shifts throughout the film, mirroring Cléo’s emotional evolution. Initially, the city is presented as lively and vibrant, filled with people and distractions, yet Cléo feels disconnected from it all, consumed by her own fear. As she ventures further into quieter, more personal spaces – such as a park or the intimate encounter with Antoine, a soldier about to leave for Algeria – Paris begins to feel less imposing and more reflective of Cléo’s growing self-awareness and acceptance. Varda uses the changing environment of Paris to show how Cléo’s perspective on life shifts, moving from a superficial focus on beauty and fame to a deeper understanding of her own vulnerability and humanity.
The Shared Techniques
Both Trier and Varda excel in using the city as a narrative tool that reveals the inner thoughts and emotions of their protagonists. In Oslo, August 31st, the sterile, modern cityscape becomes a metaphor for Anders’ psychological isolation and his inability to reconnect with his past life. Similarly, in Cléo from 5 to 7, the bustling streets of Paris initially serve as a reflection of Cléo’s narcissism and fear, only to transform as she comes to terms with her mortality. In both films, the urban environment is not merely a setting but a character, shaping and reflecting the protagonists’ internal journeys.
Ultimately, the storytelling techniques in Trier’s and Varda’s films reveal a deep understanding of how visual spaces can be used to explore the human condition. Both directors use the city as a psychological landscape, a reflection of the characters’ inner lives, and a narrative device that allows the audience to engage more deeply with their emotional experiences. Through their careful depiction of urban environments, Trier and Varda invite viewers to contemplate the ways in which our surroundings shape, reflect, and sometimes exacerbate our emotional states.
Both Trier and Varda share a profound understanding of how visual spaces in cinema can be more than just physical backdrops; they become psychological landscapes. Both filmmakers explore the connection between the emotional states of their protagonists and the environments they navigate, creating a rich visual storytelling technique that immerses viewers into the characters’ mental and emotional worlds.
In The Worst Person in the World (2021), Trier uses urban spaces, intimate interiors, and surreal dreamscapes to mirror the protagonist Julie’s emotional turmoil as she wrestles with her identity, relationships, and place in the world. The fluidity between realism and surrealism in the film reflects Julie’s shifting psychological state, creating a tension between what is real and what is subjectively experienced by her. This approach echoes the work of Agnès Varda, particularly in Le bonheur (1965), where the visual environment plays an equally crucial role in revealing the emotional depths of the characters.
In The Worst Person in the World, Trier’s Oslo again serves as more than just a city. As Julie moves through different spaces, from the busy streets to more intimate or surreal environments, the city shifts in tone and visual style. The changing urban landscape, at times cold and distant, at other moments vibrant and full of life, parallels Julie’s emotional journey. She experiences moments of deep uncertainty, alienation, and epiphany, all of which are reinforced by the spaces she inhabits. The film blurs the line between objective reality and subjective experience, especially in scenes where time seems to freeze or surreal elements seep into the narrative, reflecting Julie’s inner struggle between her desires and societal expectations.
Similarly, in Le bonheur, Varda’s pastoral landscapes and idyllic settings initially present an idealized world of happiness, only to reveal the darker complexities beneath the surface. The film begins with François, the protagonist, living what appears to be a perfect life with his wife and children in the French countryside. The bright, saturated colors and lush natural environments mirror this seemingly perfect life, but as François embarks on an affair in pursuit of additional happiness, the idyllic landscapes take on a more unsettling quality. The visual harmony of the environment contrasts with the emotional discord brewing beneath the surface. Like Trier, Varda uses the natural and built environment to reflect the emotional realities of her characters, exposing the tension between outward appearances and internal conflicts.
Both directors employ fluctuating visual styles to emphasize the psychological experiences of their characters. In Le bonheur, Varda’s use of highly stylized, vibrant colors contrasts with the tragic undertones of the narrative, creating a sense of dissonance that forces the viewer to question the nature of happiness and fulfillment.
Similarly, Trier’s mix of realism and surrealism in The Worst Person in the World creates a sense of instability, mirroring Julie’s shifting identity and emotional state as she navigates life’s complexities. This fluid approach to visual style allows both directors to explore deeper emotional and existential themes without being confined to a strictly realist framework.
Another shared aspect between Trier and Varda is their characters’ emotional relationship with their surroundings. In Le Bonheur, the seemingly peaceful countryside hides the emotional fallout of François’ decisions, just as the serene interiors of his home mask the underlying tension within his family. In The Worst Person in the World, the city of Oslo becomes a reflection of Julie’s internal alienation and search for meaning. Both directors use these visual environments to highlight the contrast between external calm and internal chaos. As François’ actions lead to tragedy in Le bonheur, the harmonious landscapes lose their innocence, much like how Julie’s existential journey in The Worst Person in the World transforms her perception of Oslo from a place of opportunity to a site of emotional conflict.
Ultimately, both Trier and Varda use the environment to deepen the narrative and psychological exploration. By utilizing visual storytelling to reflect their characters’ emotional journeys, both filmmakers invite viewers to consider how our environments not only shape but also reflect and exacerbate our inner lives, revealing the profound interplay between space and self in the cinematic world.