Sonja (Sabrina Kruschwitz) is a beautiful, athletic, blonde German teenager. She lives a tense existence with her single mother and relaxes by hanging out with her boyfriend Anton and best friend Julia (Julia Kaufmann), and spending holidays with her father and half-brother at their beach house.
Unfortunately, Sonja is also a sulky bitch.
I understand that teenagers lead tempestuous, horomone-filled lives, but Sonja is hardly a character at all. If I had a daughter as sullen and nasty as Sonja, I'd take her out into the pasture and shoot her. She has no redeeming features whatsover, apart from looking like a scandanavian sex-pot, so it's really no wonder her mother is frustrated with her and rebellious Julia doesn't return her crush.
Sonja, the film, is one of those very typical lesbian coming-of-age dramas, where two best friends fall in love only to be doomed by society's expectations. It recalls Swedish lesbidrama Fucking Amal, wherein a sulky teenage girl falls in love with the sexpot rebel, only to cry a lot and discover herself. But while Fucking Amal was enjoyably mediocre, Kirsi Liimatainen's flick makes it seem like a masterpiece. Sonja's sulkiness aside, the script is a mess of false symbolism and pretentiously poetic narration.
Liimatainen is not the best director. She's like the anti-Michael Bay. Her shots are static and lingering, despite the fact that she has nothing to linger on except for Sonja's pouting face. The film is basically a montage of disconnected moments. Sonja argues with her lonely mother, whinges at Julia, rolls her eyes at her boyfriend, writes painfully bad poetry, challenges her chauvinistic father, and loses her virginity to the thirty-something stranger up the road. It's so depressing, in fact, that the occasional moment of sympathy seems like an accident.
There a few redeeming features. Little brother Harry is the one bright spark, a genuinely sweet, believable troglodyte who actually should have something to sulk about, as his father is a controlling bastard and his sister barely speaks to him. Julia is a decent, cheerful character, but Liimatainen doesn't use her nearly enough. She shows up only to be another reason for Sonja to whinge, and causes an interminable closing shot where Sonja breaks up with her and wanders off across a field, presumably to sulk some more.
Sonja is an interminably boring mess of teenage angst and wankery. Just like the character. It's no wonder her mother brings random men home for a bit of company. If Sonja got shagged by forty scraggly hobos instead of just one, I still wouldn't care. Directionless, meaningless piece of European lesbidrama.
Unfortunately, Sonja is also a sulky bitch.
I understand that teenagers lead tempestuous, horomone-filled lives, but Sonja is hardly a character at all. If I had a daughter as sullen and nasty as Sonja, I'd take her out into the pasture and shoot her. She has no redeeming features whatsover, apart from looking like a scandanavian sex-pot, so it's really no wonder her mother is frustrated with her and rebellious Julia doesn't return her crush.
Sonja, the film, is one of those very typical lesbian coming-of-age dramas, where two best friends fall in love only to be doomed by society's expectations. It recalls Swedish lesbidrama Fucking Amal, wherein a sulky teenage girl falls in love with the sexpot rebel, only to cry a lot and discover herself. But while Fucking Amal was enjoyably mediocre, Kirsi Liimatainen's flick makes it seem like a masterpiece. Sonja's sulkiness aside, the script is a mess of false symbolism and pretentiously poetic narration.
Liimatainen is not the best director. She's like the anti-Michael Bay. Her shots are static and lingering, despite the fact that she has nothing to linger on except for Sonja's pouting face. The film is basically a montage of disconnected moments. Sonja argues with her lonely mother, whinges at Julia, rolls her eyes at her boyfriend, writes painfully bad poetry, challenges her chauvinistic father, and loses her virginity to the thirty-something stranger up the road. It's so depressing, in fact, that the occasional moment of sympathy seems like an accident.
There a few redeeming features. Little brother Harry is the one bright spark, a genuinely sweet, believable troglodyte who actually should have something to sulk about, as his father is a controlling bastard and his sister barely speaks to him. Julia is a decent, cheerful character, but Liimatainen doesn't use her nearly enough. She shows up only to be another reason for Sonja to whinge, and causes an interminable closing shot where Sonja breaks up with her and wanders off across a field, presumably to sulk some more.
Sonja is an interminably boring mess of teenage angst and wankery. Just like the character. It's no wonder her mother brings random men home for a bit of company. If Sonja got shagged by forty scraggly hobos instead of just one, I still wouldn't care. Directionless, meaningless piece of European lesbidrama.
