‘My Eternal Summer’ Review: Sylvia Le Fanu’s Debut Feature is an Intimate and Contemplative Tearjerker | London Film Festival

The Danish poet and philosopher N.F.S. Grundtvig is quoted fleetingly in My Eternal Summer. A father recites Grundtvig to his daughter, paraphrasing: “Love will never by death be destroyed. Like the cold it is put to flight by joy.” The sentiment of unconditional love is at the empathetic heart of Sylvia Le Fanu’s directorial debut. The film harnesses the unending but changing state of adoration that Grundtvig speaks of to examine what it is to love the dying while they sit alive before you. However, in the face of grief, can such notions of love soothe the pain? For 15-year-old Fanny (Kaya Toft Loholt), Grundtvig’s philosophical ponderings pale in comparison to the emotional catastrophe of watching her mother die.

Fanny has just finished another school year. While her friends embark on their holidays, her summer is underscored by the anticipation of heartbreaking grief. Fanny’s mother, Karin (Maria Rossing) has terminal cancer and is nearing the end of her life, but she’s wished for one more summer with her daughter and husband, booksmart Johan (Anders Mossling). The family’s beach house – hygge galore – has stunning views but irritatingly patchy wifi. However, between calm coastal picnics and serene afternoon naps, there’s a brewing melancholy that constantly threatens to shatter the family.

The domestic drama centers on Fanny’s intimate perspective amidst the silent turmoil. The first thing we hear from her is a piercing scream. The worst scenario comes to mind, but the reality is a spider in the corner of her bedroom. It sets the tone for what is to come with Fanny caught between childhood and adulthood, she clings to an inhibited youth while maturity forces its way into her life, leaving her no choice but to grow up quickly. A quick visit from her boyfriend Jamie (Jasper Kruse Svabo) offers a sweet distraction that quickly turns sour. Lying on his chest in bed, she whispers about their future and ponders whether she’ll be a mother. As summer drifts by, however, no amount of sun-kissed skin or ocean-styled hair can truly distract from her unfolding reality that cycles through anger, confusion, hope and acceptance.

Fanny waves goodbye to Jamie and other guests who come and go like the predictable patterns of the ocean tides all while her mother is trying to keep herself afloat. The trio settle into a silent routine around their home and Le Fanu navigates a delicate balance as Karin’s death is a conversation they can’t bring themselves to speak out loud. My Eternal Summer is wonderfully anti-tragedy with a lack of sentimentality regarding the end-of-life period. Le Fanu, and her co-writer Mads Lind Knudsen, pen a Scandinavian portrait that lulls you into a familial routine that makes tragedy all the more devastating, but not exploitatively so. Exploring grief is carefully handled by this director who builds strong emotional foundations to prevent the film from tipping into tragedy porn. Instead, the rituals of life continue as the countdown clock seems to echo through the house at every passing second. Fanny is left to wrestle with living in the moment while desperately trying to soak in every ounce of her mother’s face which will soon become a memory.

Holding up the poignant pillars is a tremendous cast that brings this delicate story to life with tactile realism. Loholt is at the core, a young actor who effortlessly handles the weight of this heavy story on her shoulders. It’s a difficult part to negotiate; teenage angst can be grating but a touching sensitivity underscores Fanny’s reflections. She sleeps on the couch downstairs in direct view of her mother’s creaky hospital bed and yet she snaps at his father for his late arrival home, not wanting to be left responsible for her mother. The investment in contrasting emotions comes to light in one quietly pivotal scene: Fanny reads aloud a saccharine poem to her mother as they laze in the sun. Listening over her shoulder, Karin initially assumes the poetic dedication about saying goodbye is about her forthcoming exit from the world. However, she slowly realizes that her daughter’s words are for Jamie and not a eulogical offering for herself. Karin seems miffed, then amused, then at ease as if she has accepted that life will continue whether she holds on or lets go.

Grade: B

This review is from the 2024 London Film Festival. There is no U.S. distribution at this time.