Borgli's 'the drama': a wedding, a school shooting, and 65 things to argue about
Kristoffer Borgli’s The Drama isn't a film you watch; it's an experience you endure—and then dissect. Starring Zendaya and Robert Pattinson, this sprawling, unsettling wedding saga has landed with the force of a dropped chandelier, leaving audiences reeling and already primed for weeks of heated debate. Forget easy answers; this is a film that revels in ambiguity, provocation, and an almost gleeful disregard for conventional narrative structure. We saw it. We wrestled with it. And now, we’re laying out the battlefield of questions it leaves behind.
A torrent of unanswered questions
The film throws you headfirst into a vortex of dysfunction. Why, for example, is a heroin-smoking DJ deemed acceptable for a high-society wedding? The casting of Sydney Lemmon, familiar from her role in Love Story, only amplifies the unsettling strangeness. Every character—Rachel (Zendaya), Charlie (Pattinson), Emma, and even Rachel's husband—seems to operate on a different plane of reality, a collective of simmering neuroses and barely concealed malice. But it's Rachel’s casual confinement of her neighbor that truly chills, a detail glossed over with a disturbing nonchalance.
Borgli refuses to offer easy explanations. Charlie's history of cyberbullying is mentioned, then swiftly abandoned. Is Emma's detachment a product of trauma, or simply inherent weirdness? The film’s refusal to provide clear answers is both its strength and its potential downfall. Some will find it frustrating, others will hail it as a brilliant commentary on the complexities of human relationships. And that puffer jacket? Sam's dismissive “It’s just from Uniqlo” elicited a laugh that felt both inappropriate and strangely cathartic.
Violence, glamour, and the spectacle of discomfort
The Drama isn’t afraid to push boundaries, sometimes to the point of discomfort. The attempted restraint of a woman in a wheelchair, the unsettling imagery of Zendaya with a gun—these moments linger long after the credits roll. Does the film inadvertently glamorize gun violence? Is the sheer coolness of Zendaya’s wardrobe distracting from the gravity of the situation? These are uncomfortable questions, but they’re questions that demand to be asked. The film’s visual style, reminiscent of Borgli’s previous work, Materialists, is undeniably striking. One can easily imagine spending hours just cataloging the contents of their meticulously curated apartment—down to the exact model of the Ingmar Bergman poster.
The ending, deliberately ambiguous, leaves the audience suspended in a state of uneasy anticipation. Are Rachel and Charlie rekindling their relationship? After all they've put each other through? The film’s length—which could easily have been doubled—feels both excessive and strangely truncated, like the first act of a sprawling, unfinished play. The sheer volume of questions raised – from the practicality of Charlie's transatlantic accent to the inexplicable quantity of projectile vomiting—suggests a film less interested in providing answers than in provoking a reaction.
Borgli’s latest is a provocation, a challenge to the audience's sensibilities. It is not a film for the faint of heart, nor is it one easily dismissed. It’s a film that will be debated, dissected, and ultimately, perhaps, misunderstood. But there's one thing that’s certain: The Drama will leave you pondering the fragility of human connection long after you leave the theater. And that, perhaps, is the point.