Worth: $14.00
FilmInk rates movies out of $20 — the score indicates the amount we believe a ticket to the movie to be worth
Cast:
Johanne Milland, Josephine Park, Sofie Grabol, Morten Hee Andersen, Clint Ruben, Lars Mikkelsen
Intro:
While The Venus Effect doesn’t really fulfill its brief as a comedy, it’s certainly romantic …
Liv (Johanne Milland) seems happy enough living in rural Denmark and working her family’s farm. She could probably do without the hawk-like and fat shaming behaviours of her mother Gitte (Sofie Grabol), but she’s doing okay. Her openly gay brother, Jonas (Morten Hee Andersen) visits regularly with his partner. Gitte keeps nudging Liv about providing grandchildren and is supportive of her relationship with her boyfriend Sebastian (Clint Ruben); it’s important to note that Gitte and her husband Klaus (Lars Mikkelsen) are also supportive of Jonas’ relationship, although Gitte doesn’t quite twig that gay couples are entirely capable of raising children.
Everything changes when Liv meets the chaotic and openly lesbian, Andrea (Josephine Park), clad in a vagina dress and on her way to her ex-girlfriend’s bachelorette party.
To say that Liv is rocked out of her world is an understatement – she’s thrown into feelings and desires that she has never openly explored before. A flirtation begins between the two women that is lusciously captured by director Anna Emma Haudal.
Andrea has left the city due to stress and is recouping in the country. She brings with her music, art, and a sense of unending adventure. All of these things fascinate and enliven Liv. In a particularly sensual scene, Andrea dresses Liv up (or more particularly strips down) and photographs her as a goddess in nature.
Liv isn’t quite ready to come out, so she tries to hide her relationship with Andrea. She is still finding her way in the world, and as lost in her discovery of her sexuality as she is in participating in the lesbian community. Perhaps the trouble is that as much as Liv and Andrea desire each other, they’re terrible at communicating.
Ostensibly a romantic comedy, Haudal’s work functions better as a coming-of-age story. Liv doesn’t want to uproot her life and live in Copenhagen with Andrea. She especially doesn’t want to do it because Andrea has chosen an apartment directly above her now married ex-girlfriend’s place. Both Liv and Andrea are holding onto parts of their past – will they be able to find a future together?
The Venus Effect boasts gorgeous cinematography by Valdemar Wing Leisner and a fantastic pop-soaked soundtrack by Jenny Rosser. Johanne Milland, Josephine Park, and particularly Sofie Grabel give authentic performances. Where it comes apart is Haudel’s script, written with Marie Limkilde. For a romantic comedy there is precious little comedy and a lot of it is provided by people having tantrums. Liv is not a particularly likeable character, but her confusion and frustration are relatable. The neatness of the ending seems tacked-on.
There’s a reliance on “nature doesn’t judge” metaphors in the film. The seasons echo the status of the protagonists’ romance. Although it’s an interesting take, it gets repetitive. However, Liv stating to her brother that maybe she isn’t “gay enough to be gay” is likely something that a lot of people exploring their sexuality feel when confronted with people who are openly comfortable with their sexual identities.
While The Venus Effect doesn’t really fulfil its brief as a comedy, it’s certainly romantic, but more importantly it asks the question “Do we really need to define ourselves?” For the queer community, that’s a question that is always in flux. For Liv, it’s one that she will learn is best if she just learns to be Liv.
