Families Like Ours is a drama directed and co-written by the Oscar-winning Danish filmmaker Thomas Vinterberg. It prompts us to reflect on our circumstances—perhaps you were born healthy, in a developed country, or without facing discrimination. What if your life, as you knew it, suddenly became unstable and turned upside down?
The seven-part series unfolds in a near-future Denmark where economic turmoil in the Netherlands has forced many to seek employment elsewhere. As climate change and rising sea levels threaten the region, the Danish government announces the necessity of evacuating six million residents. Denmark essentially becomes inaccessible.
Vinterberg reframes these existential threats into something more relatable. Instead of overwhelming issues, we follow a few characters navigating their forced choices amid the unfolding crisis.
There’s a sense of urgency when characters begin to prepare for the government’s impending restrictions, even if it means acting illegally. Henrick’s unstable, homophobic brother, Peter (David Densik), adds tension, yet it sometimes feels as though the drama shies away from more violent incidents. Although reports of social unrest exist, they do not fully translate to the screen, leaving the tension underexplored. Much of the focus rests on bureaucratic details like documentation and visas, showcasing calm officials in various scenes.
Another character is Amalie’s husband, Jacob (Nicolaji Lee Carse), who tries to leverage connections to secure passage for the family to France. However, his daughter Laura (Amarilith August) finds herself torn between following him to pursue her studies at the Sorbonne or staying behind with her affluent mother, Fanny (Paprika Steen), who complicates matters. Additionally, Lucas, a promising young soccer talent, is also woven into this narrative.
Since its premiere at the Venice Film Festival last year, Families Like Ours has impressed both audiences and critics. There’s much to appreciate here; it’s not overly preachy, and the theme naturally emerges through the characters, supported by a robust Danish cast. However, it often feels a bit thin and lacks emotional depth. The thought experiments, while intriguing, do not coalesce into a gripping narrative. The characters’ poor choices carry little consequence, raising questions about the reflexive nature of privilege. It’s possible to admire the series without truly connecting with it.
