THE LAST JOURNEY (2024)

 original title: Den sista resan

The joy of life never gets old

Films hold incredible power. They can make us smile, laugh, cry, and sometimes, if we're lucky, make us do all three, like The Last Journey, Sweden’s official entry for ‘Best International Feature Film’ at the 97th Academy Awards.

Renowned Swedish TV personality Filip Hammar watches his father, Lars, spiral into depression after retiring as a French teacher. Once a man that could light up any room, Lars now wallows in darkness, struggling to leave his favourite Belgian chair. Lars and his wife, Tiina, had big plans for their later years, but Lars’s inability to engage with life has left them both heartbroken. Determined to revive his father’s spirit, Filip plans a road trip to France, where they once shared family holidays, hoping to spark old memories and joy. Joining them is Filip’s longtime friend and TV partner, Fredrik Wikingsson.

The trip gets off to a shaky start when Lars falls in his hotel room, on their first night, fracturing his leg and landing him in hospital. The documentary nearly unravels as Lars loses hope, lying in his hospital bed. Tiina comes to be by his side, while Filip and Fredrik continue to the French border, hoping Lars will join them once he recovers. But as days pass, it seems more likely Lars will abandon the trip and return to his beloved Belgian chair. Everything changes when Filip arranges a private performance at the hospital with a classical singer, performing Lars’s favourite Harry Belafonte songs. It’s a sweet and touching moment, and the first time we see real emotion from Lars. From then on, he focuses on his rehabilitation and eventually boards a plane to meet Filip and Fredrik at the French border. This is where the real journey begins, it’s also one of the sweetest moments of the film, as Filip and Fredrik welcome Lars back and even let him ‘drive’ over the French border, a gesture that will have you reaching for the tissues (keep them close by because there’s plenty more where that came from). 

Once they reach France, the film gives us a run of moments you won’t soon forget — some clearly planned, others that just seem to happen — but all bursting with honest feeling. A chaotic road-rage scene is oddly hilarious, while a cooking segment hits unexpectedly hard, but for all the wrong reasons. It’s a moment that feels almost exploitive in the way Filip pushes his father to do something he clearly has trouble doing. It’s the one scene in the film that I think pushes things a bit too far for the films sake.

The Last Journey is a warm, funny, and deeply heartfelt docudrama that knows exactly where your emotional buttons are and doesn’t hesitate to press them. It’s got a lovely balance of humour, nostalgia, and emotional weight, evoking all the big feelings — longing, joy, and a kind of aching sweetness. The film takes you on an emotional ride, with laughter one moment and full-body sobs the next. Yes, now and then it edges into the overly sentimental or slightly staged, but it’s all done with such heart, you’re happy to go along for the ride.

The filmmaking deserves credit too. The way it shifts between past and present is seamless and often beautiful — the kind of moments that feel quietly timeless. There’s a light touch to how it blends real-life footage with constructed scenes, making each moment feel like a dip into memory. And then there’s the backdrop: the French countryside is almost distractingly gorgeous. Some of the shots look like paintings — it’s the kind of scenery that makes you want to drop everything and book a trip. The whole thing plays like a tender postcard to the beauty of France.

At its heart, The Last Journey is a road movie with real soul. It’s the kind of film that burrows into your chest and stays there. If you’re drawn to stories that stir something in you, that leave a little mark, then this is a must.

A small but powerful little film about trying to rekindle one’s youthful spark, because joy doesn’t retire, it just finds new ways to shine. 

★★★★★