Joachim Trier's European Financing Model for Creative Control

Sentimental Value: Beyond the Screen, a Director's Plea for Cinematic Resonance

This conversation with writer-director Joachim Trier reveals a profound tension between the artistic imperative of cinematic experience and the economic realities of streaming. Beyond Trier's personal plea for Netflix to embrace theatrical exhibition, the core thesis emerges: the current industry model, driven by algorithmic efficiency and immediate data, risks severing the visceral, communal, and deeply human connection that cinema uniquely fosters. The hidden consequence is not just the loss of movie theaters, but a potential erosion of our collective capacity for empathy and shared emotional experience, shaped by generational trauma and the very stories we consume. This analysis is crucial for filmmakers, distributors, and anyone invested in the future of storytelling, offering a framework to understand how prioritizing immediate accessibility over enduring cultural impact can lead to a hollowed-out artistic landscape.

The Ghost in the Machine: Why Immediate Access Undermines Lasting Impact

The conversation with Joachim Trier, while ostensibly about his film "Sentimental Value" and its gentle critique of streaming giants, unearths a deeper systemic issue: the conflict between the ephemeral nature of digital consumption and the enduring power of communal cinematic experience. Trier, a filmmaker whose career is built on European financing models that prioritize creative control and extended production, finds himself at odds with a global industry increasingly defined by rapid content delivery and data-driven decision-making. His argument for theatrical exhibition isn't merely nostalgic; it's a plea for a specific kind of human connection, one that streaming, by its very design, struggles to replicate. This disconnect highlights how prioritizing immediate gratification can inadvertently dismantle the very foundations of artistic resonance and cultural memory.

The core of Trier's critique lies in what he perceives as a fundamental misunderstanding of cinema's purpose by major streamers. While acknowledging that platforms like Netflix produce "really good films and working as good filmmakers," Trier laments their reluctance to engage with the theatrical model. He posits that this isn't just a business decision, but a cultural one, impacting how audiences connect with stories and, by extension, with each other. The communal experience of a dark theater, sharing laughter or tears with strangers, fosters a unique form of empathy that the solitary act of streaming, however convenient, cannot fully replace.

"Everyone we love the movies in theaters come on you know"

This sentiment underscores a critical consequence: the potential for a gradual desensitization to the profound emotional impact that cinema, when experienced collectively, can achieve. Trier draws a parallel between his own family's history of intergenerational trauma and the narratives he explores in his films. He speaks of a lack of language to discuss inherited grief and sorrow, suggesting that cinema can, in its best form, provide a shared space to explore these complex emotions. However, when films are relegated to individual screens, the shared catharsis, the collective processing of difficult themes, is diminished. The "event" of cinema, as Trier describes it, is lost, replaced by a transactional experience of content consumption.

The financing model Trier employs--a complex web of European co-productions, soft money, and pre-sales--is not just a practical necessity; it's a strategic choice that insulates him from the immediate, data-driven pressures often imposed by single, large financiers. This approach allows for longer shooting schedules, extensive preparation, and, crucially, final cut. It's a system that acknowledges that artistic value often accrues over time, a stark contrast to the quarterly earnings reports that dominate much of the industry. This "collective thing," as he calls it, where no single entity bears the entire risk, allows for a more patient and artistically driven approach.

"Above the line costs are lower and i think that's what makes that possible for people to make their money back on a film like this and now it's doing very well around the world in cinemas"

This model, while seemingly complex, creates a durable advantage. By distributing risk and prioritizing artistic integrity, Trier can invest in the craft--the extensive casting process, the long prep time--knowing that these investments will yield richer, more resonant films. The "delayed payoff" here isn't just financial; it's artistic. It's the difference between a film that is quickly consumed and forgotten, and one that lingers, that invites re-watching and deeper contemplation, as Trier notes about his own work: "you feel like you need to then go back and start again to see everything leading in the direction." This is where genuine competitive advantage is built--not in speed, but in depth and lasting impact.

The conversation then pivots to the broader industry, touching on the Warner Bros. acquisition drama and Netflix's potential bid. While this segment delves into financial machinations, it indirectly reinforces Trier's point. The pursuit of Warner Bros. by entities like Paramount and Netflix, driven by the acquisition of assets like theatrical chains and content libraries, reveals a strategic battle for control over the future of storytelling. Netflix's potential all-cash bid, aiming to eliminate uncertainty, highlights the industry's focus on immediate transaction over the cultivation of long-term artistic ecosystems. Trier's analogy of Ted Sarandos being haunted by cinematic ghosts like Chaplin and Godard, urging him to embrace theaters, serves as a poignant reminder that true artistic legacy is often built on foundations that transcend immediate market trends. The "rosebud" for many, Trier suggests, was the cinema itself--a shared space for emotional engagement, not a solitary screen in a chaotic home.

Key Action Items

• Prioritize Pre-Production and Casting Resources: Allocate significant time and budget to casting and pre-production, recognizing that these foundational elements are crucial for efficient and artistically rich on-set execution. (Immediate Action)
• Embrace Complex, Multi-Entity Financing: For independent filmmakers, actively pursue diverse financing structures (e.g., co-productions, soft money, pre-sales) to retain creative control and buffer against single-financier demands. (Ongoing Investment)
• Advocate for Theatrical Exhibition: Actively support and participate in theatrical releases, even for films also destined for streaming, to help preserve the communal cinematic experience. (Immediate Action)
• Develop a "Christmas Carol" Vision for Streaming Executives: Frame the value of theatrical releases not just as an artistic ideal, but as a strategic imperative for deeper audience connection and long-term brand equity, even for data-driven platforms. (Strategic Communication, 6-12 months)
• Invest in Narratives of Inherited Trauma and Reconciliation: Explore themes of intergenerational trauma and the process of acceptance and understanding in storytelling, recognizing the profound human need for language and shared experience around these difficult topics. (Creative Development, 12-18 months)
• Cultivate a "Formula One Pit Stop" Mentality on Set: Foster extreme efficiency and clarity in on-set operations through rigorous planning and clear communication, allowing for creative freedom and flexibility without sacrificing schedule or budget. (Ongoing Practice)
• Reframe "Success" Beyond Immediate Metrics: Develop and champion projects where artistic resonance and cultural impact are valued alongside, or even above, immediate streaming numbers or box office returns. (Long-Term Investment)