'The Worst Person in the World (2021)' is a deeply moving experience. It resonates with me in a way that very few films do. I feel it. It isn't just entertainment, it's something more. Exactly what that is, I can't quite say. Through a seemingly simple story of one woman's life, the picture works its way into your mind, your heart, your soul itself and provokes powerful emotions that you didn't even know movies could provoke; not just sadness or joy or excitement or longing (all of which it provokes in droves), but the kind of emotions that can't be put into words, the kind that weigh on your consciousness and shape your relationship with yourself and the world around you. It's difficult to describe, really, and I'm sure I'm probably slipping into hyperbole. I've lost any sense of objectivity (what little I usually have, at any rate) when it comes to discussing this picture, because its ultimate impact is one that I just can't shake and I'm not sure I ever want to. It's a profoundly affecting affair, one that overcomes any of its initial slowness or slice-of-life limitations, thanks primarily to its uncompromisingly complex nature. It's one of the most honest pieces of fiction I've ever seen, crafting characters who seem like they could walk off the screen and representing reality - or, at least, our lived experience of it - in a way that most kitchen-sink dramas could only dream of doing. It presents a plethora of powerful and often poignant ideas that keenly represent the human condition, all while remembering that its protagonist is the one driving the action and that it owes her a fully-formed narrative that entertains as much as it stirs. Its infrequent formalistic touches are absolutely delightful, but it's the rock-solid 'regular' stuff that matters the most. These moments are told not with style, but with substance; the actors often tell entire libraries worth of stories with their eyes alone. Indeed, this is some of the best acting I've seen in a long time, capable of conveying thought and emotion without so much as a single word. It's often all in the eyes; you could get lost in the pupils of its two leads. The chapter-based structure lends vitality to a plot that may otherwise have felt a little aimless, and the writing is simply divine. The feature just nails everything it sets out to achieve. The more I think about it, the more I like it. It's the sort of thing that proves ratings are insignificant. How can you assign stars to something like this? I can't put my feelings into words, let alone stars. I can't quantify it by the same metrics I use for other films. Even if it isn't as entertaining as the ones I enjoy the most, it's almost certainly much more powerful; very few of them make me feel the way this one does. Maybe another viewing is necessary to determine the picture's true score. Then again, maybe this right here - what I'm feeling right now - is more than enough. It isn't the sort of thing I experience very often; as such, it's a bit hard to process. What else can I say? This is honestly the kind of film that I could see changing your life in one way or another, however small and seemingly insignificant. As I mentioned earlier, it's a deeply moving experience.
