Recensie The year I started masturbating [Netflix]

Director: Erika Wasserman | Script: Christin Magdu, Erika Wasserman | Cast: Katia Winter (Hanna), Jesper Zuschlag (Morten), Vera Carlbom (Liv), Henrik Dorsin (Staffan), Nour El-Refai (Carolin), ea | Time to play: 98 minutes | Year: 2022

Director Anders Thomas Jensen once commented in an interview about men and chicken that the representation of masturbation in the cinema differs greatly between men and women. She had noticed that female characters indulge themselves out of lust, while male characters committing suicide are just plain pathetic. Clearly, Jensen didn’t mean to change that image with the image of him, as evidenced by the character played by Mads Mikkelsen who, with his chronic masturbation, is a necessary source of comedy, though Jensen said he was aiming for a tragic bias.

However, just because movies are less critical of female masturbation doesn’t mean the movie scene is littered with examples of it. A female orgasm in movies usually has to be achieved by a bed partner, either male or female. Somewhat understandable, as stories often revolve around relationships between people and sex all too often plays a role in them, but that means the subject remains taboo. Swedish The year I started masturbating makes a sympathetic attempt to normalize it a bit. The pleasantly shameless title is a good start.

Especially nice because the movie is not a serious drama, but rather a light-hearted little thing that approaches a rom-com in terms of tone and plot. As is often the case in that genre, the plot begins with a break. Thirty-something Hanna seems to have her life in order with a husband, child, and a well-paying job, but unfortunately the former sees it differently. His dedication to his work would put him and his child second and third, leading him to decide to end the relationship.

The scene where that happens is interesting. The couple does not come to an end with arguments and high emotions, but with apathy. The way Hanna’s husband ends their relationship is reminiscent of a child wearily announcing that there’s no point in playing a board game anymore.

The breakup comes as a bolt from the blue for Hanna, which in a way shows how much her head was in the clouds up to that point. In the opening scene, we saw her arrive almost an hour late for dinner with her husband, while before she danced uninhibited around the city. There’s no reason to immediately end a relationship, but those things add up.

However, the movie is clearly on Hanna’s side. Her husband is portrayed as a remarkably mean-spirited figure in many things (her earning more than he seems to be a constant source of annoyance) and there are more characters who, with their separate character traits, ensure that Hanna is the most normal of all. the family. things

The only exception is that cute guy who suddenly shows up in her life and takes Hanna on unusual dates. Thus, it provides the rom-com cliché that the best way to deal with a breakup is to immediately dive into a new relationship. The wonderfully quirky Liv, who spontaneously emerges as Hanna’s new best friend as she juggles a variety of jobs, advises a different course: she seeks her own sexual pleasure. Preferably on her own.

The year I started masturbating he occasionally indulges in rom com clichés, but always manages to execute them slightly differently than usual. For example, there’s a fairly new take on the basic fact that Hanna’s drive to work gets in the way of her private life. Hanna is not the inveterate workaholic who is completely outdone by her unbridled ambition, but a great woman who is good at her job and enjoys it. The fact that she doesn’t say no often enough is mainly because she likes to be appreciated.

For a film that is unarguably positive about masturbation, it’s striking that scenes dealing with that subject are still filled with dismissive irony. So when Liv tells Hanna in scents and colors in a restaurant about the beneficial effects of masturbation, several shots show visitors at other tables looking up uneasily or turning their heads in surprise. And, of course, there’s a scene where Hanna gets down on the floor in a similar fashion, though her subsequent attempt to save face for herself is somewhat poignant.

The way that Liv propagates masturbation and then Hanna experiences it suggests something like the middle part of office spacein which the protagonist finds himself in a state of permanent relaxation through unfinished hypnosis that makes his worries slip away. The year I started masturbating however, it tops out rather quickly and then returns to the order of the day. Hanna’s self-induced orgasms thus become fleeting snack moments rather than actual experiences. But perhaps that also suits a movie that aims more for a relaxing snack than a life-expanding experience.

The year I started masturbating can be seen in Netflix.