Cult Review
Senior Film Conservator

Honestly, that depends on how much you like watching people sprint around a room while singing about their dinner. If you’re into the old-school charm of performers like Liva Weel and don’t mind a plot that feels like it was scribbled on the back of a napkin during lunch, you’ll probably have a blast. If you need a movie that stays grounded or makes sense, you are going to be checking your watch every five minutes. 🕰️
This film is basically a stage play that someone decided to film. It’s loud, it’s frantic, and the energy never really dips.
The whole thing feels like a fever dream set in a kitchen. There’s a lot of shouting, a lot of swooning, and a surprising amount of focus on food for a movie about romance. Watching Ludvig Brandstrup navigate these scenes is like watching someone try to juggle eggs while riding a unicycle. You’re just waiting for something to break.
There is this one moment where the background extras look like they completely forgot they were on camera. They’re just standing there, staring at the wall or whispering to each other while the leads are having a full-blown emotional meltdown in the foreground. It’s honestly the most honest part of the whole movie.
If you've seen stuff like A Modern Cinderella, you know the type of breezy, slightly forced optimism we are dealing with here. It’s not trying to reinvent the wheel. It’s just trying to keep the wheels from falling off the carriage entirely.
It’s a bit of a relic, sure. It doesn't have the grit of L'or dans la rue, but then again, it’s not trying to be a moody French drama, is it? It’s just a bit of fun. Sometimes that’s enough.
The pacing is a total mess. Sometimes the scenes just end mid-sentence, almost like the film reel was cut by someone with a pair of rusty scissors. I kind of loved that about it. It keeps you on your toes.
Don't look for deep meaning. Don't look for character arcs that actually go somewhere. Just enjoy the chaos of people singing about cutlets and heartbreaks. It’s a trip. 🎭

IMDb —
1918