Thelma (dir. Joachim Trier)

With an opening sequence of such dramatic weight it produced in me an audible gasp, Norwegian director Joachim Trier's bold yet impressive psychological horror film "Thelma" is a surprising entry to Norway's "official selection" to the 90th Academy Awards' "Best Foreign Language Film": a gusty choice if truth be told, and one that would doubtless be running for "Best Picture" if it were even remotely filmed in another culture or stratosphere. Themes of repression, sexual identity, theology and indeed nature itself coalesce seamlessly in this part coming-of-age and part self-discovery chiller; which sees the eponymous Thelma (Eili Harboe), a recent attendee of Oslo university, grappling not only with the birth of an unbridled same-sex appetite, but a repressed psychological disorder that awakens a darkened and mythological ability to harbor supernatural abilities and use them to control whomever she desires.

Beginning with the aforementioned opening sequence; a young child Thelma (6 year old thelma is played by Grethe Eltervåg) is deer-hunting in the snowy Norwegian countryside with her doting father. What appears to be a perfectly adequate father-daughter bonding experience suddenly turns toward something much more disturbing, as Thelma's father Trond (Henrik Rafaelsen) begins turning his rifle from the adjacent deer towards his young progeny. There's little to no context given by the director, who also co-wrote the piece with Eskil Vogt, yet it set's the tone of the upcoming thriller - expect the unexpected. Fast forward a few years, and Thelma has recently enrolled in the University of Oslo - apparently studying biology. Unlike most students however, her university experience borders on boot camp: her overly religious upbringing has forced her into a routine of abstinence against alcohol, partying and socializing all together. Nightly phone conversations with her father assuage the usual "check-in" which most students abide to, and have much more in common with a 9-year old girl touching base after being away from her family for the first time than a woman on the brink of adulthood.

But if there's ever a time to discover yourself and break from the shackles of a depressing zealot upbringing, it's in higher-education. An albeit in unorthodox fashion, so she doest: during a routined study break at the local library, Thelma's life-force suddenly is hit with an almighty thud - after exhibiting little to know symptoms, Thelma falls to floor, urinating on herself in what appears to be an epileptic fit. There's seems to be no explanation for her grand mal experience, yet the last person she came into contact with was the gregarious and social piranha Anja (Kaya Wilkins) - who plonked herself down next to Thelma before her fall. This becomes the beginning of a beautiful and sensual friendship, as the lonely and inward-looking Thelma takes umbrage with Anja's ability to socialize with others, and what ultimately turns into a hidden sexual desire.

Thelma's sexual odyssey takes flight- due to her mixed and confusing feelings toward Anja - and a repressed and undiagnosed disorder awakens within her: the more she connects with Anja and falls in love with her, the more her seizures start to define her. Reminiscent in scope and in tone to Julia Ducournau's exquisite french-thriller RAW, which also blended the themes of teen-angst with an sexual awakening, Trier pits the agony of a religiously taught and impressionable young girl at odds with her own nature against a psychological disorder which manifests itself in hallucinogenic and violent episodes. Where other directors might have failed in their attempts at blending the opposing narratives, Trier should be congratulated - as although his atmospheric chiller takes it's time in revealing the contexts behind his characters motives, there's nuance and depth in the genesis. Take, for example, a terrific sequence in an Operatic performance, as Thelma and Anja sit side-by-side, silently aware of their mutual attraction, her hand slowly finds its way up her leg and toward her groin. Thelma's appetite is beginning to awaken, and with that, her conscious follows in tandem - the more she becomes aroused by Anja's foreplay, the more the ground begins to shake, a large speaker that sits directly above them jolts precariously as if about to fall - and the crescendo of musical accompaniment ends in a deafening abyss - here Thelma is at her most vulnerable, unable to gage the magnitude of the self-discovery and only able to react with rage and contempt.

Bolstered by some fine performances from the two leads Eili Harboe and Kaya Wilkins, and supporting roles from the religiously abound father Trond (Henrik Rafaelsen) and paraplegic mother Unni (Ellen Dorrit Petersen) - here's a psychological thriller with supernatural undertones for the 21st century. Where Stephen King's Carrie can be seen as a examination of the blossoming of a young girl into a woman, here is a story about a woman dealing with the repressed feelings of the former younger self. Though slow paced and with less direct scares than anticipated, here's a journey of self-discovery enriched with the temptations of the occult that has attention on character instead of hyperbolic silliness.

Rating 4/ 5