Kristen Kelley Rand’s review published on Letterboxd:
Can you tell me what you used to tell me?
There's so much life coursing through this one, it's almost hard for me to wrap my head around. The episodic nature of the piece makes the experience of watching it feel akin to soaring through a twelve chapter (plus prologue and epilogue) novel, cover-to-cover, in the span of just over two hours: a mammoth undertaking that's so acutely well-paced, so incredibly well-tuned, it's impossible to not see yourself reflected in Julie or Aksel or Eivind—in any number or combination of the characters featured.
All of us think, will think, or have thought of ourselves as "the worst person in the world" at certain points in our lives; sometimes we're unlucky enough to be told so by someone we love or have loved. It's, at least to our knowledge, such a uniquely human trait: hating oneself, mentally flagellating oneself, being incapable of seeing how much worth we carry despite the negativity that can cloud our minds, or the mistakes we make, the people we hurt that we didn't mean or want to. As such, Trier's gut-wrenchingly empathetic filmmaking, coupled with the uniformly stunning, hyper-realistic performances from Reinsve, Danielsen Lie (!), and Nordrum blew the wind right out of me. Best part is I already can't wait to let it happen all over again.