SPECTATOR SYNDROME
I love films so compelling they force me into the painful decision of reshuffling my Letterboxd top 4. Into the Wild had held its place firmly on my list since I first watched it, but after seeing The Worst Person in the World, it was time to give credit where it was due. CODA, Poor Things and Call Me By Your Name accompany it.
The film revolves around Julie, an impulsive young woman navigating the messiness of her love life while wrestling with her ever-changing sense of identity in her late 20s and early 30s. Although I’m only in my mid-20s, I can already see how life could take a similar shape.
Julie’s struggle with commitment is striking—she grows bored easily, whether it’s with relationships, jobs, hairstyles, or academic pursuits. Her life feels like a carousel of fleeting choices. While I don’t entirely relate to her constant impulsiveness, her experience reflects a broader feeling that resonates with many in Gen Z. Our collective short attention spans, fuelled by constant online engagement, chasing trends, and an obsession with the "next big thing," have created a disposable culture where nothing feels built to last.
"Being young today is different. The pressure is heart-breaking. There's no time to think. Always something on the screen."
FYI - I don't want this to be a review full of spoilers, but it is more the exploration of the themes and how I felt connected to them. One quote that stood out to me was Julie's admission: “I feel like a spectator in my own life. Like I’m playing a supporting role in my own life.” It’s a sentiment that captures the pervasive uncertainty of modern adulthood, where we’re often unsure if we’re active participants or just being swept along. I think this stems from the cultural sentiment that your 20s are your "prime," so you’re expected to make the most of it. I would wholeheartedly disagree with that idea. You may look really hot, but most people haven’t yet settled into the rhythm of adulthood, career, or relationships yet.
Being in your mid-20s, living through a pandemic, a recession, and being unable to get on the property ladder, it’s easy to feel a pull towards chaos. There’s no stability available, so why not do the exact opposite? I definitely feel a void and a lack of romance in my world and surroundings. I only use the world for its gritty basics—commuting, going to Tesco, running for a train. I don’t move with passion anymore. I’m not enjoying or absorbing; I’m simply sprinting and trying to keep up, much like Julie.
There’s a stillness that comes with stability, and I’ve yet to experience it. Since Covid, everything has been thrown up in the air. Stability feels like a privilege at this point. A pandemic is the perfect example of something I never worried about until it happened. In the film, Aksel explains: “I always worried something would go wrong, but the things that went wrong were never what I worried about.”
It’s a reminder of why anxiety is often so futile—it’s focused on things we have no control over. Of course, hearing 'just stop worrying' is frustrating, because we all know it’s not that simple. I have spent years of my life looking at everyone else thinking, should I be doing that? Interestingly they probably looked at my lack of structure, and thought it looked freeing and exciting.
When it comes down to it, all that you have in life are memories, relationships and experiences. That is what really sticks with you and matters. If you were told you have a year to live, you wouldn't be looking back fondly on a designer bag, you would be thinking of an amazing night out, days in the sunshine and being with the ones you adore.
As the story unfolds, the irony of the film’s title, The Worst Person in the World, becomes increasingly clear. Julie’s guilt over her desires and self-recrimination for acting on her impulses make her feel like the “worst person.” But her struggles are achingly human, underscoring how easy it is to mistake self-discovery for selfishness. I think we are essentially all like Julie and we shouldn't feel shame for it.
