At some point in their life, many women dream of having a little coffee shop in a small town equivalent to “Gilmore Girls”’s Stars Hollow. Set in a gorgeous, crisp Norwegian mountain community, Barbara Topsøe-Rothenborg’s “The Secret Woman” introduces Louise (Mia Jexen) as she shops for the catch of the day to serve at her cafe. The sun is shining, everyone is smiling, and yet, something unsettling is in the air. The movie opens with a short scene of a woman running down a dark tunnel before the title card drops with an ominous percussion. No wonder we’re primed to doubt every moment and interaction.
During her shift, Louise is approached by a man named Edmund (Claes Bang), who calls her Helene. Although she nervously brushes it off as a likely doppelganger, right as Louise settles for dinner with her new fiancé, Joachim (Pål Sverre Hagen), the man knocks at her door and requests to speak with her again. From the look on her face and the music, it’s clear that something is off, which is later confirmed when she awakes in the middle of the night to rummage through unpacked boxes of her belongings in the attic. When she picks up a banged-up compact mirror, it triggers a memory that drives her to go to the police first thing in the morning, and it becomes a significant symbol for the rest of the movie.
Louisa begins to pull on a thread that unravels the life she knows; a life she’s only lived for 2 years. She questions what happened and who she really is, while we see the writing on the wall that she is, indeed, Helene. A DNA test confirms that Helene has a husband, a child, and a shipping empire back home in Denmark. Without hesitation, inciting the audience’s immediate trepidation, she returns to piece it all back together. Like a fairytale, Helene arrives at her estate, hopping out of her modern-day chariot (an Uber black car) to a husband whose smug smirk screams “run the other way.” It’s not edge-of-your-seat stuff, but the mystery keeps our heads cocked to the side, curious as to what the final verdict will be.
What’s particularly peculiar is Helene’s willingness to dive right back into a life she cannot recall at all. I suppose nepotism technically negates the need for qualifications to run a business, but her wardrobe 180 from granola to girl boss sends smoke. There’s never a moment we believe Edmund’s, her husband, rapidly devolving generosity, yet the truth remains entangled in a larger web of deception. Through clairvoyant flashbacks sparked by her grasp on nostalgic objects, visualized in a blue-washed haze, Helene descends into a hole without knowing its depth. These strategic jumps into the past pepper the truth of what led to Helene’s disappearance, all the while the police, unsurprisingly, do nothing.
Meanwhile, Joachim is sidelined but continues to investigate, and his findings fuel the audience’s anxiety, knowing Helene is unintentionally wading into a life she fled. Through the first half of “The Secret Woman,” the score is a bit too on the nose, nodding to what the viewer should be feeling and diluting the power the plot could have on its own. At the film’s tipping point, a dark synth theme decorates every damning moment, picking up the pace. Right when Helene is on the precipice of discovering the evils holding up her past life, Edmund’s gaslighting and increasingly violent behavior spiral into her isolation and eventual hospitalization.
“The Secret Woman” is a playful title and may refer to several key characters throughout. As each woman’s true colors reach the light in one way or another, it is their complexity that shocks us most. On the other hand, every male character, especially the stereotypical husband villain, is quite flat. Of course, Edmund is a mommy’s boy, and of course, he’s on a power trip catalyzed by her love and entitlement. Nonetheless, there’s hope in knowing Helene’s character is crafted with more wit and determination.
Every layer of the story reveals itself, twisting the plot beyond the characters’ interpersonal relationships. Yet, “The Secret Woman” insults and skims over the systemic trap that sex work can be. It is the biggest bomb in the story, yet it is outshone by Helene’s pursuit of her sense of self, and it makes the audience reconsider her complicity in the whole situation. The severity of each wrongdoing is somewhat suffocated by how quickly it is revealed. A bit tepid until the final ten minutes, the film’s resolution feels incomplete, or rather inequitable to the broader group of victims in the story. In doing so, it disregards the opportunity to take a true stance, without the satisfaction of shrugging it off as “good for her.”
