The CV of Erika Wasserman contains titles like Burrowing [+lire aussi :
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fiche film], Avalon [+lire aussi :
critique
bande-annonce
fiche film], The Quiet Roar [+lire aussi :
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fiche film] and Border [+lire aussi :
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interview : Ali Abbasi
fiche film] – all of them fairly hardcore arthouse fare, executed in the capacity of producer. The Year I Started Masturbating [+lire aussi :
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fiche film], premiering at the 2022 Haugesund Film Festival, marks the start of a new path in Wasserman’s cinematic endeavour: that of writer-director. Of a fairly light-hearted comedy, at that.

Or a blatantly light-hearted one, actually, as we’re introduced to the sprightly Hanna (Katia Winter from Dexter and Sleepy Hollow), enjoying a pleasant midlife with a bustling career, an affable boyfriend (Jesper Zuschlag from Into the Darkness [+lire aussi :
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fiche film]) and a lovely young son, and fancying another offspring to crown things off for her fast-approaching 40^th birthday. So why, then, does she stop achieving and start masturbating – and during this, of all years? As they say, it’s complicated. First, her boyfriend has had enough of being the constant second banana to Hanna’s intense career and decides to break up with her. The timing couldn’t be worse, as Hanna has just handed in her notice and quit her well-paid job in order to solve this very problem. As the lease on their flat is in his name, she suddenly becomes homeless as well. And that is why Hanna starts masturbating this very year.

And then there’s Liv (a great acting debut by singer Vera Carlbom), a progressive and enterprising Millennial who, not unlike a slightly impish but very good fairy, pops up at the cash register of a late-night convenience store, where a distraught Hanna is taking shelter, and then conveniently crosses paths with her at certain points down her bumpy roads – ready, willing and able to guide Hanna forward in life. Liv also offers a key to self-realisation and liberation: “Set the pussy free, or you’ll be dead before you’re 40.” With just a few weeks to go, there’s little time to waste…

Sweet in tone and light, at times even slight, in touch, Wasserman’s script (co-written by Cristin Magdu) both honours and plays with the genre. So what if it’s a bit plain and even ingratiating at times? “Let’s have some fun,” it seems to be telling both creators and viewers. The scenery is gorgeous (the Stockholm tourism office would heartily agree), the acting uniformly agreeable from the likes of Henrik Dorsin (Triangle of Sadness [+lire aussi :
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interview : Ruben Östlund
interview : Ruben Östlund
fiche film]), Siw Erixon (Charter [+lire aussi :
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interview : Amanda Kernell
fiche film]), Nour El-Refai (My Father Marianne [+lire aussi :
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interview : Mårten Klingberg
fiche film]) and Bahar Pars (A Man Called Ove [+lire aussi :
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fiche film]), and for those who stay until the end credits, there are dancing, animated vaginas to behold. A delightful scene with Liv demonstrating the perfect pleasuring technique in a restaurant by folding and unfolding the different “anatomical layers” of a pizza clearly feels like a fresh take on a certain restaurant scene in When Harry Met Sally as one of the patrons (incidentally Wasserman herself in a cameo) looks on with a curious “I’m having what she’s having” look on her face. What this detour in style may do to the future career of a hardcore arthouse producer remains to be seen, but will hopefully not harm it.

The Year I Started Masturbating was produced by Sweden’s Gimme a Break.