“The type of powerful, insightful film that has a high degree of subtle uncomfortableness to affect us all.”

“Let a woman live a little,” is the rebellious statement that Alex (Aviva Wrede) utters to her best friend Laura when she is doing the walk of shame in the midst of that fun, flirty, exciting stage of meeting strangers and encountering the unknown. Their inter-railing tour around a few European cities is the trip of a lifetime that the two friends have saved up for, and it is an experience filled with youthful optimism. The phrase also gives the film its title and thus sets its overarching tone but, in embarking on this carefree philosophy, Laura (Embla Ingelman-Sundberg) has difficulty recalling the events that occurred on one fateful night. During their couch surfing sojourns, she wakes up in a different bed than her own and is not alone, which threatens to impact the trajectory of her platonic and romantic relationships alongside the trip itself.

Live a Little compellingly traverses Warsaw, Prague, Berlin and Paris in this Swedish road trip cum coming-of-age tale that partially allows the girls to go through that period of self-discovery that is lauded by many adolescents, but equally showcases each city’s unique culture. Indeed, there are magnetic city shots that induce wanderlust, plus the inevitable ‘girls gone wild’ scenes of euphoric, long nights of drinking, clubbing, and testing substances. At its core, the film offers more as it unpicks the blurring of boundaries triggered by seemingly innocuous fun activities that pierce the spectrum of sinister behaviour when considered on a macro level.

Their holiday begins well with Alex having fun flirting with a stranger, but the chasm between her and Laura’s differing approach to the holiday quickly becomes glaringly obvious. Alex is the singleton who inadvertently sidelines Laura and takes on the role of a ‘pick me’, whereas Laura has left a boyfriend behind at home and struggles to reconcile being independent and embracing a girls’ trip with yearning for the cosiness of her relationship. The dynamics often test their friendship, particularly as their perspective shifts over the course of the film.

Live a Little provides a nuanced complexity to the well-trodden portrait of young adult holiday escapades via the methods in which Laura attempts to piece together the events of that night from her fractured memories. Inadvertently, Laura undertakes reckless and self-destructive behaviour in her pursuit to reframe her narrative, which offers an intriguing character study.

In her directorial debut Fanny Ovesen firmly adopts a feminine gaze but directly questions perceptions, assumptions and established tropes. Similar to Molly Manning Walker’s approach in How to Have Sex, Ovesen adopts an unwavering line of questioning surrounding intimate social circumstances that may introduce blurry lines concerning the matter of consent. Being drunk, in social settings, may be seen by many youths as a justification, validation or mitigation, but as Ovesen’s close camera framing astutely places the viewer, without judgement, in a similar position of uncertainty as Laura – the camera fades to black in parallel to Laura’s encounter – the sensations of unease overflow further and encourage analysis of whether such situations should continue to be accepted practice.

The use of close-ups, long takes, and prolonged silences provides that additional depth to accompany Laura’s shocking revelation. Ovesen does not rely on heavy exposition but trusts the expressive, raw, and evocative performance by Ingelman-Sundberg to convey emotions with a single, incredulous glance or inward questioning. The sombre lighting, used during nighttime scenes to portray Laura’s confused memories come to the fore, creates a raw depiction of a scenario that is terrifying for a young woman to face alone and to discover how it will determine her place in the world and the long-term impact on her life.

Subtly, Ovesen also uses a static camera to follow sensitively this gradual change within Laura’s thought processes as she struggles to reconcile her past and present selves, knowing that she can no longer be as carefree, despite her denial by repeating some of those wild nights out in an effort to prove that nothing has changed for her.

Despite being a slow-burn drama, the focus is on the emotional fallout and tests the reliability of our own recollection. Ovesen is frankly unafraid to rest in the grey, to highlight the ambiguity with moments that may feel more unsettling and terrifying than a creepy horror film. Whilst a horror may be created from the realms of fiction, Live a Little is rooted in a scary reality that many people might unfortunately encounter.

The film is hard hitting without being over the top or gratuitous. It’s the type of powerful, insightful film that has a high degree of subtle uncomfortableness to affect us all. Indeed, it is a film that lingers long beyond the unveiling of the credits and brings to mind the TLC song, What About Your Friends – where it cautions about choosing your friends carefully for road trips and wild nights of abandonment. An impressive cautionary tale with outstanding, natural acting performances, Live a Little carves a place for Ovesen as a daring director, unafraid to raise her head above the parapet without preaching, who is a rising star in the making within European cinema.