A New Kind of Wilderness

I loved this film, it made me immediately immerse in it as a whole experience, because of the unusual form of documentary it is (partly self-biographical and biographical). The freedom from dogmatic styles of documentary is in it self a reflection of the free personalities in this story.

The main character (narrator) has undoubtedly a lot of artistic sense and integrity, so forceful, that it was possible for the instructor to extrapolate the wholeness and the details of this film from the source that was already there.

The norwegian and the british mutual underplayed sense of humor goes beautifully and convincingly well together in this existential questioning of life choices and values.

It is a true art the way this film is able to be light and dark, life-affirming and sad, humble and humbling, personal and yet so universal. It is a fantastic portrait of childhood and the human personal growth that keeps unfolding, how we learn and how we belong to something. My absolute biggest recommendations.

I was initially quite apprehensive when I saw the start of this introduce me to a family of Scandinavian tree huggers - quite literally! Quite swiftly, though, I was disabused of that rather twee notion as we meet Nik Payne and his three young children. They live in a modern-looking home on a small-holding in Norway where all are dealing with the recent death of wife and mother Maria. She already had a daughter, Ronja, who also features as they all have to come to terms with their grief as well as more tangible issues. Those latter problems are going to force them to relocate and also to cease with their practice of home-schooling. That's because Nik is going to have to go to work to support them. Of course the youngsters are anxious about starting school some years after their contemporaries and their dad is equally nervous about how they will fit in and also about how he will cope as they start to branch out a little more independently. These concerns come to a bit of an head when elder daughter Freya finds much of her schooling requires an iPad - and these are folks who don't even possess a telly. With the children increasingly preoccupied with their new routine and with some new friends, Nik starts to have to deal with his own feelings of loneliness as he considers whether or not they might be better if all returned to his British rural homeland. There are no easy answers for any of them here but they share a solid and strong bond that offers an optimism and hope that as they all grow up, they will benefit from having been raised to appreciate and respect each other and the natural environment in which they thrive. It is interesting just how quickly they all got used to the camera on their shoulder. The photography gets up close and very personal as Nik has to deal with a myriad of issues and yet remain positive and supportive, and with Freya and Ronja as they both have to come to terms with the absence of their mother in their own way - without, they hope, alienating the other. There is something a bit unrealistic, flawed even, about the parameters in which this family approached life. You have to ask whether the policy of keeping the kids at home all day was naive and self-indulgent on the parents' part or was it, as they declare, to avoid them having to fit in with societal rules and norms? To be "liberated". As the children first go to school and have to learn new social skills long since mastered by their fellow pupils and especially when technology starts to darken their door, you do wonder if perhaps the original parental aspirations weren't just a little bit short-sighted and selfish. I didn't always love the fly-on-the-wall approach. At times it felt positively prurient to observe moments that most definitely didn't need an audience, but for the most part this is quite an engaging look at loving people having to navigate a series of crossroads and advance, often quite gingerly, to the next stages of their lives. There is one scene that the squeamish amongst us might not like, but it is otherwise a remarkably human story that's worth a watch. I saw it in a cinema, but I'm not sure if television won't do just as well.

The main character doesn't have or watch television, but does not mind a film crew to live-record him and his family for the whole world to view. In the movie, he spends most of the time glumly looking at his beautiful family. In fact, everyone in the film is impossibly good-looking. I kept on asking myself, "Why am I watching these people's pointless life when there is nothing in them that I can identify with." Trying to live off the land is easy when you are white and living in one of the richest yet sparsely populated countries in the world. Trying doing the same in Mumbai or Mexico City or Johannesburg. Uff, what a supreme waste of time watching this poor remake of Captain Fantastic. Neither captain, nor fantastic.

Watched this at the 2024 Sundance Film Festival.

A very interesting and emotional documentary about a Norwegian family living in the wilderness with great emotional interviews and conversations with the main participants and a sweet and tender observation of a family dealing with grief, wilderness life, and growth in the societal world. Filmmaker Silje Evensmo Jacobsen does a really good job on documenting the journey of the family as Jacobsen's direction and approach to the subject matter felt sweet and tender to observe.

I genuinely felt emotional and connection to the family. I can't imagine how tough it is to leave a home behind due to a tragedy. Each of the children were really sweet and adorable to observe and I genuinely felt bad for the whole family. The movie also has some gorgeous looking camerawork and it also does so how beautiful Norway really is.

Despite some of the pacing could be improved, I found myself enjoying and connecting this documentary a lot. It's like Captain Fantastic but more impactful. One of my favorite documentaries from the festival.