THE STORY – Akam, a young literature teacher, lives a comfortable life in Oslo until his estranged uncle from the Iranian part of Kurdistan comes for a surprise visit. Despite limited space in his shared flat with friends, Akam feels obligated to invite his uncle to stay for a few days. However, his uncle quickly makes himself at home and shows no sign of leaving anytime soon. Torn between his sense of familial duty and growing tension in the flat, Akam begins to suspect there’s more to his uncle’s visit than just a casual trip. What follows is a series of revelations and unexpected events that could have life changing consequences for them both.
THE CAST – Peiman Azizpour, Hamza Agoshi, Sarah Francesca Brænne, Magnus Lysbakken, Theresa Frostad Eggesbø, Emir Hakki, Marko Lazic & Mohamed Chakiri
THE TEAM – Brwa Vahabpour (Director/Writer)
THE RUNNING TIME – 98 Minutes
In his feature film debut, writer-director Brwa Vahabpour crafts a poignant and humorous narrative in “My Uncle Jens,” a story that explores the complexities of family, identity, and the disorienting experience of displacement. At first glance, the film may appear to be a lighthearted comedy about an unexpected visit from a quirky uncle, but it soon delves into the deeper themes of cultural clashes and personal discovery.
What begins as a frustrating disruption quickly evolves into a deeply emotional journey as the film’s protagonist is forced to confront the uneasy intersection of his roots and identity, all while navigating the mysteries surrounding his uncle’s arrival. With sharp wit and tender insight, “My Uncle Jens” offers both a humorous and thought-provoking exploration of what it means to belong – and to be lost – across generations and cultures.
The film opens with Akam (Peiman Azizpour), a young literature teacher in Oslo, having a peaceful sleep that is suddenly disrupted by the unexpected arrival of his uncle, Khdr (Hamza Agoshi), from Kurdistan. His uncle’s arrival in the dead of night, having not seen him since childhood, is a sudden reunion that leaves Akam frazzled. Bringing nothing but a rug and a single suitcase, his uncle quickly makes himself at home, to the displeasure of Akam’s roommates. Akam, bound by familial duty, reluctantly agrees to host his uncle for what is supposed to be a few days.
As days turn to weeks, the tension builds. The shared flat quickly becomes a battleground between the cultural norms of Akam’s Norwegian life and the unabashed, unfiltered presence of Khdr, who adopts the Norwegian name Jens. To Akam’s roommates, this unexpected addition is a nuisance, but despite the initial frustration, Khdr’s stubborn and somewhat absurd antics – like trying to haggle for a DVD player in a manner that leaves Akam cringing in embarrassment – bring a strange, comic relief to the film.
What begins as a classic case of an unwanted houseguest soon reveals itself as something much more complicated. The language barrier between Akam and Khdr, while seemingly comical at first, begins to reflect deeper, more painful themes. Akam, who grew up in Norway, is unable to communicate fully with his uncle in Kurdish, the language he was once fluent in. This disconnection becomes a symbol of Akam’s broader sense of displacement, torn between his Kurdish heritage and his current life in Norway, feeling increasingly distanced from both.
Khdr, on the other hand, is shrouded in mystery, especially concerning why he has suddenly shown up in Norway. He presents himself as a successful business owner who is content in his life, but the truth eventually comes out. A conversation with a waiter at a Kurdish restaurant reveals that Khdr has been in Norway far longer than he led Akam to believe. Akam, suspicious of his uncle’s motives, begins to dig deeper.
The film takes a sharp turn when Akam meets potential love interest, Elina (Sarah Francesca Brænne), a woman connected to immigration services, which further complicates his journey. Akam’s personal mission to understand the truth of why Khdr is really in Norway becomes entangled with his own sense of responsibility. The tension between them grows as Akam begins to suspect that his uncle may not be there legally, and the weight of this uncertainty puts Akam in a risky situation.
“My Uncle Jens” is more than a comedy-drama; it’s a deeply reflective film about the cost of leaving one’s homeland. Akam’s life, shaped by his fractured connection to his culture, is a journey of rediscovery. Khdr, with his stubbornness and differing behavior, becomes both a catalyst for Akam’s growth and a constant reminder of the painful complexities of being uprooted and lost between two worlds.
The film’s strength is in its ability to balance humor and tension, creating a story where each interaction, from the absurdities of Khdr’s cultural misunderstandings to the quiet moments of introspection between Akam and his uncle, are rich with meaning. Akam perhaps never fully realized how disconnected he was from both his culture and his family, but this unexpected reunion leads him to embrace those ties and understand more about himself along the way. The slow reveal of Khdr’s past adds weight to the film’s exploration of immigration, survival, and the risks taken for the sake of a better life.
