Things to Come is an odd title (translated from the French L’avenir). Is it a threat or a promise? It’s a little of both, and all happening to Nathalie (Isabelle Huppert).
A students’ strike at Nathalie’s school makes getting to work a challenge; her publisher questions the relevance of her textbooks; her aging mother grows more demanding; her husband, Heinz (Andre Marcon), hardly speaks. Her children are grown and out of the house, but writer-director Mia Hansen-Løve never gives the sense that Nathalie would’ve been defined by them even were they younger. Her intellectual life sustains her, she tells a former student, the charismatic Fabien (Roman Kolinka).
Can that be enough? Things to Come takes place at one of those impossible, entirely believable points in a person’s life when everything changes at once, and the understated joy of the film is watching Huppert as Nathalie adjusts her world. Sometimes the change is visible outside of her: The half-empty bookshelves when Heinz leaves are an affront to her intellect and an eyesore in their perfectly appointed apartment. Mostly, though, change is in Huppert’s face, her walk, her conversations.
Hansen-Løve, the daughter of two philosophy teachers, knows the philosophy that Nathalie argues, and it would take a second viewing of the film to pick up and examine all the references. Each book Nathalie picks up tells part of her story, whether she reads it or dismisses it. But her story isn’t just in the arguments and conversations. It’s also in how they’re made. The Nathalie who presses her point in class is a far cry from the Nathalie who shrugs off an argument with Fabien’s more radical friends, who’ve moved to a farm in the stunning countryside. She’s too old to be a radical, she tells a younger woman, who disagrees.
Nathalie’s not too old for anything — not to learn to care about a cat, or swim in a river or have a certain tension with her former student. Subtly, gracefully, Huppert shifts herself through Hansen-Løve’s story. As in Elle, she’s playing a character who rarely reacts to things as expected, and how she does react is an exploration of ongoing, unexpected change — the kind that reshapes how a person thinks about herself and her relation to your world.
The things that happen to Nathalie are not her choices, and they’re things — death, separation — that we’ve seen play out in narratives a million times before. It’s rare, though, to see such a careful examination of a woman regarding the world she built for herself — out of all the expected blocks, family and career and love — and finding a new way to live within it. Things to Come can be slow, and pensive, and so much rests on Huppert’s slight shoulders and slight frown that if you don’t like her, you may not like the film in the least. But Hansen-Løve’s investigation of a woman growing into her own sort of freedom is a quiet, bittersweet delight.
Things to Come opens Friday, Feb. 10, at Broadway Metro.
A Note From the Publisher

Dear Readers,
The last two years have been some of the hardest in Eugene Weekly’s 43 years. There were moments when keeping the paper alive felt uncertain. And yet, here we are — still publishing, still investigating, still showing up every week.
That’s because of you!
Not just because of financial support (though that matters enormously), but because of the emails, notes, conversations, encouragement and ideas you shared along the way. You reminded us why this paper exists and who it’s for.
Listening to readers has always been at the heart of Eugene Weekly. This year, that meant launching our popular weekly Activist Alert column, after many of you told us there was no single, reliable place to find information about rallies, meetings and ways to get involved. You asked. We responded.
We’ve also continued to deepen the coverage that sets Eugene Weekly apart, including our in-depth reporting on local real estate development through Bricks & Mortar — digging into what’s being built, who’s behind it and how those decisions shape our community.
And, of course, we’ve continued to bring you the stories and features many of you depend on: investigations and local government reporting, arts and culture coverage, sudoku and crossword puzzles, Savage Love, and our extensive community events calendar. We feature award-winning stories by University of Oregon student reporters getting real world journalism experience. All free. In print and online.
None of this happens by accident. It happens because readers step up and say: this matters.
As we head into a new year, please consider supporting Eugene Weekly if you’re able. Every dollar helps keep us digging, questioning, celebrating — and yes, occasionally annoying exactly the right people. We consider that a public service.
Thank you for standing with us!

Publisher
Eugene Weekly
P.S. If you’d like to talk about supporting EW, I’d love to hear from you!
jody@eugeneweekly.com
(541) 484-0519