Emilie Thalund’s Weightless is one of those films that sneaks up on you. At first glance, it feels almost like a fly-on-the-wall documentary.
We follow Lea, who arrives at a summer camp designed to help teenagers lose weight. Her mum gently reminds her that if it’s not right, she can always come home – and it’s this small moment that sets the tone for the whole film.
The kids joke, the camp leaders are welcoming, and there’s a natural energy to the way friendships form. But beneath the sunlit lakes and mealtime chatter, there’s something much more fragile and unsettling at play.
Lea’s roommate Sasha bursts onto the screen with confidence and sexual energy. She’s fun, infectious even, but also reckless. When she persuades Lea to head out with a group of local boys, it all goes horribly wrong. Lea is left humiliated, while Sasha disappears with one of the boys.
In the aftermath, Lea gravitates towards Rune (Joachim Fjelstrup, The Girl With The Needle and All And Eva), one of the camp’s guides, who offers her kindness and attention.
This is where Weightless becomes something altogether more complex. Rune is generous and gentle – he shares sweets, plays video games with Lea, and seems to understand her vulnerability.
Is this kindness? Is it grooming? The ambiguity leaves us torn between wanting something good for Lea and dreading what might come next.
What makes Weightless stand out is its sensitivity. Thalund takes a concept that could have easily slipped into cliché – a coming of age drama – and turns it into something delicate and deeply human.
The close-up camerawork captures every flicker of doubt, every spark of desire, every uneasy silence. The Danish countryside, calm and beautiful, contrasts with the storm of feelings raging inside these teenagers.
Fjelstrup is, as always, quietly compelling, while the young cast deliver performances that feel completely lived-in. The score is gorgeous, swelling with emotion but never overwhelming the story, and Sarah Klang’s “Beautiful Woman” plays the film out on a note that lingers.
Weightless is both tender and traumatic, a story that asks us to sit with the uncomfortable truth of growing up: that excitement and danger often arrive hand in hand. It’s a brave, beautifully made piece of Danish cinema that deserves to be talked about long after the credits roll.
Weightless (Vægtløs) will make its UK debut at the London Film Festival.
