The Year I Started Masturbating Movie Review: A generic film spiced up by its central conceit

Have you ever stopped to smell the flowers? This is a question often asked to people who are so caught up in their life that they forget to appreciate the little things, the good things. In The Year I Started Masturbating, Hanna (a terrific Katie Winter) just can’t catch a break. She is dumped by her partner. Her best friend breaks ties with her. She can't get back a job that she previously quit. And all of this happens in hours. In her hectic pursuit of providing a healthy and financially secure life for her family, did Hanna ever find time to stop and smell the flower?

Director: Erika Wasserman
 
Cast: Katia Winter, Jesper Zuschlag, Vera Corlbom, Hannes Fohlin

Language: Swedish

Streaming on: Netflix

Days away from turning 40, Hanna is an emotional wreck, physically weak, and financially broke. The way up is the only way left to go and that’s when Hanna taps into her inner wild spirit that once resulted in a tribal tattoo near her navel. This spirit gets brought to the fore by her acquaintance with a bartender Liv, who tells her the mantra that changes everything: prioritise your pu***. Superficially looked at, yes, it’s about masturbation and taking control of one’s own pleasure, but it is also about putting self above all else. This idea is put to efficient use by Hanna, who rediscovers herself while finding clarity about life in general. These portions, although cramped together, are staged effectively, as we visually understand the shackles in her mind being broken. Random sexcapades notwithstanding, there is hardly anything raunchy or risque about The Year I Started Masturbating. In any case, why should a conversation around masturbation be bookended by caution and whispers?

There is a sense of hurry in the revelatory portions of the film. So much time gets spent in the buildup that the climax doesn’t really register a strong impact. Some convenient writing choices get woven in as well. While it is expected that the likes of Morten or her friend Carolin, or her romantic interest Adam, would make her give them the proverbial finger, I wish there were more surprises in store. Why lather the narrative with cliches as it goes on, when the title seems to be suggesting material with spunk and novelty? Nevertheless, it’s a film that is aimed at making us feel the spring in our steps and a smile on our lips—and for the most part, it does succeed, and makes us want to stop and smell the flower.