There's a streak of narcissism behind such illusions of grandeur as believing oneself to be the worst person in the world; only one person can be, and statistically speaking, it's probably not you. It certainly isn't Julie, whose biggest issue is her fear of commitment, which she blames on generational anxiety, and the passing of time that is so rapidly stealing away her youth. In no setting is she the main character, and yet that's never really true of anyone; by definition, we're all the main characters of our individual existences, and as she clumsily navigates the winding road of life, allowing the motivating force that fuels her every spontaneous decision to be this existential desperation, the days and months that we see of her provide a thought-provoking portrait of restlessness and mortality. Easily one of the best films of the year, though I always find such proclamations to be trite – great movies have an impact far beyond the parameters of their release dates, and The Worst Person In The World is a testament to the timeless quality of great cinema.