Je m’appelle Agneta: There’s no age limit on rewriting your life story

Agneta’s husband has blacklisted all things French from their household: French wine, French cheese, and anything that “tastes of France”.

But Agneta can’t resist. She hides a wheel of cheese in the detergent compartment of their washing machine – a ritual that’s clearly part of her routine at this point. And it works. Late at night, she sneaks to the kitchen to claim her stash and indulge in her snacks while watching online videos of French estates.

This is Agneta’s everyday life until, as a consequence of a drunken evening, she ends up on a train to au pair a Swedish boy in France, or so she thinks.

The film, based on the novel by Emma Hamberg, follows recently unemployed Agneta (Eva Melander) who, at 49 years old, accepts an au pairing job in Provence, which not only transforms what she sees as an uninteresting, convenient reality into a French village dreamscape, but also transforms her perception of herself through an unexpectedly beautiful journey of awakening.

Je m’appelle Agneta begins in the way that almost every Netflix adaptation of a novel begins, with a voiceover telling you exactly who the protagonist is, want they desire and why they can’t have it.

This, together with its rapid exposition that has Agneta arriving in France within the film’s first 10 minutes before we can even get to really know her, is a symptom of the kind of narrative structure and devices streamers have been deploying in their originals to pander to viewers’ depleted attention spans.

But this is, fortunately, where its similarities to Netflix’s formulaic productions end.

When Agneta sets foot in France, arriving with one less bag than she packed and no ability to speak the language, she discovers that the person she travelled across countries to care for is not quite the young Swedish child the job advertisement set her up to believe.

Panicked and disappointed, Agneta calls her unsupportive husband Magnus to get her back home to Sweden. But something makes her stay (and it’s not just the cheese stalls at the local market).

Je m’appelle Agneta is told through heavily saturated colouring, shot with a fisheye lens. Although distracting at times, the distorted visuals create a world that is both fanciful – a depiction of the supporting characters’ visions of reality – as well as overwhelming – a reflection, perhaps, of Agneta’s own initial discomfort from being surrounded by such whimsical personalities.

The movie’s production design is just as immersive in its constructing a fantastical, near-surreal world, through dazzling colours and bizarre props, including phallic objects in what feels like every corner of the main set.

Yet, by being encouraged to tap into her childlike imagination and spontaneity, Agneta is eventually drawn into the vibrant world she’s been transplanted into.

“Now show me your life!” Einar (Claes Månsson), the quirky older man Agneta befriends, demands of her after performing his backstory on the private stage in his home.

After listening to Agneta’s dismal narrative of how she perceives her life, Einar expresses his dissatisfaction.

“This play is about you! You’re the director of this play,” he tells her.

Agneta’s growth into the director of her own life, unlocking her self-expression and personal freedom, frequently takes place within the duration of a scene, which can feel unnaturally fast for a character’s development.

Yet, you can’t help but be charmed by each step of her awakening in all its awkwardness: dancing without self-judgement, admiring herself in lingerie and loving life out loud.

Agneta finds love, but it’s not just the romantic and platonic kind. She discovers a love for herself that culminates in a tender scene in which she stands in front of a mirror, greeting and embracing each part of her body that she likely hadn’t shown love to before – from the loose skin on her upper arms to the folds of her tummy.

Je m’appelle Agneta joins a growing catalogue of films and shows, like Good Luck to You, Leo Grande, NYAD and Dying for Sex, about there being no age limit to taking a chance on changing your life.

Although Je m’appelle Agneta comes with a frequently raucous sense of humour that might not land for everyone, what unfolds is a touching testament to how the people we surround ourselves with are not merely social companions, but also are fundamental in shaping how we see ourselves and our place in the world. DM

Je m’appelle Agneta is streaming on Netflix.