Turkish film critic Janet Barış examines how Weightless approaches the female body, desire, and vulnerability through an intimate subjective gaze. Set within the fragile moral structure of a summer health camp, the film explores how blurred boundaries can quietly transform admiration into harm.
The Nordic selection at the Göteborg Film Festival was notably dominated by films with female protagonists. Titles such as Tell Everyone (Kerro kaikille, 2026, Alli Haapasalo), Butterfly (2025, Itonje Søimer Guttormsen), The Patron (Mecenaten, 2026, Julia Thelin), and the FIPRESCI award-winning Weightless (Vægtløs, 2025, Emilie Thalund) all centered their narratives on women’s experiences, bodies, and inner worlds.
Directed by Emilie Thalund, Weightless opens with 15-year-old Lea’s arrival at a summer health camp. Attending the camp both for health reasons and the possibility of forming friendships, Lea gradually develops feelings for one of the coaches. Her roommate Sasha, by contrast, appears extroverted and self-confident. Although it goes against the camp’s rules, she meets boys her own age and navigates her desires with apparent ease.
Lea, meanwhile, struggles as she begins to explore her own beauty and her relationship with the opposite sex. Despite her confusion, she ultimately returns from the camp stronger and more self-aware.
As Thalund’s debut feature, Weightless offers clear signs of directorial promise. The camp, the dynamics of attention, and Lea’s friendship with Sasha are all presented through Lea’s perspective, anchoring the film firmly in her subjective experience.
Formally, the director’s use of light and camera carries a strong sense of physicality and intimacy—perhaps the most palpable emotion in the film. While this approach can be uncomfortable at times, it allows the audience to observe Lea’s emotional state with striking closeness.
The figure of the coach, Rune, is far from an ideal mentor. He is aware of the attention directed at him and appears to feed on it. This awareness gradually erodes the boundaries between himself and Lea. While Lea admires him, Rune subtly encourages this dynamic, allowing the lines to blur.
At a certain point, the film reveals how easily these loosened boundaries can slip into abuse, exposing the vulnerability inherent in such imbalanced relationships.
Meanwhile, the contrast between Lea and Sasha, though occasionally tense, gradually evolves into a supportive and enveloping friendship. Even if Sasha does not fully grasp what is unfolding, she remains aware enough to unsettle Rune by repeatedly reminding him of the boundaries he chooses to ignore. In doing so, she becomes a quiet but persistent presence of resistance within the camp’s fragile moral structure.
At this point, the film draws attention to questions of the body and awareness. Does admiration imply consent? Or does knowing that the other person is young and vulnerable demand restraint, recognizing their emotions and then stepping back? Weightless carefully navigates these questions without offering easy answers.
Ultimately, as striking as the cinematography is, the performance of the lead actress Marie Helweg Augustsen is equally impressive. Despite being a professional actress, she manages to convey an almost amateur naturalness, which becomes one of the film’s most compelling qualities.
The film does not merely tell the story of an ordinary adolescent who is at odds with her body; through its texture, subjective perspective, and performances, it opens a door for the audience that is both challenging and inviting.
Janet Barış
© FIPRESCI 2026