Regret is something that we are often forced to carry with us, and which often proves to be impossible to get rid of as time progresses. We often feel guilt for our past actions, whether intentional or accidental, and it’s often those that come about through unintended circumstances that can be the most harrowing. This is the foundation for The Most Beautiful Day (Dutch: De mooiste dag), in which director Appie Boudellah examines the impact of lifelong guilt on the daily routine of ordinary people as they attempt to move through an already challenging world, one day at a time. At the core of the narrative is Jasmijn, whose life seems to be as close to perfect as it could be – she’s a celebrated author with a wide viewership that only grows with every accolade she receives, her domestic life is as solid as it could be, and she is generally on the upswing, finally seeing the fruits of her labour. However, this all dissipates after her involvement in a car accident, which causes the death of another motorist. Filled with grief, Jasmijn loses all motivation, fading into a shell of her former self, no longer capable of writing or even functioning as a human being – but when she discovers that the widower of the woman she inadvertently killed is managing a hotel in Morocco, she decides to take the opportunity to pay her moral debt, particularly when she discovers that he is suffering from both physical and psychological injuries, believing that only she can remedy the pain he has carried for the last two years. A very simple drama, but one that has a firm grasp on its emotions, The Most Beautiful Day is very effective and understands the extent of its subject matter, handling some unwieldy ideas with great humanity and a ferocious amount of commitment to a challenging premise.

Any guide to navigating grief will inevitably come down to one particular concept: the act of simply putting one foot in front of the other in the constant pursuit of healing. It can be a challenging process, and one that everyone is likely to fail countless times before getting it right. In the case of The Most Beautiful Day, we find ourselves following the protagonist as she goes about her daily life, attempting to atone for her involvement in an accident that caused a death and set off a chain of trauma that impacted much more than simply the deceased. It is often those who are left behind that carry the biggest burden, and when dealing with something that could have easily been avoided, forgiveness is not always easy to find. This film is built on the idea of examining the aftermath of an accident, looking at the lives of the people who were impacted, on both sides. It is often true that any event essentially has at least two different perspectives, varying stories to be told that can provide valuable insights into the human condition. This is where The Most Beautiful Day finds most of its themes, which are all based around living with the burden of knowing that you are responsible for the pain and trauma inflicted on other people, which can be even more excruciating when it is purely the result of an accident. Boudellah is clearly interested in the subject, but rather than making the film a downbeat, miserable experience that consists of wall-to-wall sadness, he instead focuses on the idea of second chances, which are often the most important aspect of finding a path forward in times when we struggle to see a positive future. Atonement does not always mean an apology solely; sometimes, practical steps to make the lives of victims is more important, and this film expertly navigates all of these ideas with tact, humour and sincerity, which makes it relatively well-crafted and meaningful in terms of its underlying ideas.

Some films certainly subscribe to the various implications of the phrase “it takes a village”, with The Most Beautiful Day being a prime example of just how important actors are to creating the tone and atmosphere of a film, as well as ensuring that its ideas flow smoothly and with enough sincerity to hold our attention throughout. The core of this film is built around two performances in particular, namely those of Katja Schuurman and Hajo Bruins, who portray the protagonists who go from strangers to hostile adversaries to friends, which is the basic arc for the entire film, and one that only works with two very gifted actors at the helm. Both celebrated and relatively popular presences in the contemporary Dutch entertainment industry, they both deliver very moving performances. Schuurman is dedicated to playing this woman who is falling apart as a result of a poor decision, every moment she is on screen being filled with a clear remorse that can feel like she is consistently playing the same singular note, albeit in a way that is still profoundly compelling and meaningful when we look at it from a base level. Bruins does have the more challenging role, since his range of emotions are much broader, and he has to play to several different personalities, oscillating from the dashing and smart hotel owner who presents himself as a fun-loving expert, to the deeply insecure and shattered individual who cannot move past his wife’s death, and whose trauma has caused him to undergo periods where he begins to unravel. In all instances, both actors convincingly capture the spirit of the film, delivering strong work that is much more compelling than we would expect based on a cursory glance. The supporting cast is mostly superfluous and exists primarily as comedic relief, but there are some lovely moments with scene-stealers like Isa Hoes and Frank Lammers, who lend the film a sense of quirky charm with their dynamic, very funny but still quite heartfelt performances.

When it comes to a film like The Most Beautiful Day, you get what you pay for, which is essentially just a polite way of saying that the film is quite generic and obvious for the most part. The film didn’t aim to be particularly daring, and rather chooses to be open about its simplicity in terms of both concept and execution – a straightforward exploration of grief that combines tender drama with amusing humour to tell the story of two individuals working through their personal trauma that has inextricably bound them together, and doing what they can to move forward, and in the process realising that the only remedy to a broken heart is to find new channels into which you can siphon your passions. With such a premise, the emotions are always going to be the most vulnerable aspect of the narrative, and the director does his best to ensure that everything is done smoothly and with enough commitment to the underlying themes that it doesn’t become too overtly heavy-handed and broad in its sensibilities. Unfortunately, the nature of the narrative, as well as its desire to be as conventional as possible in an effort to be widely accessible, means that there is always going to be some degree of saccharine emotions present throughout, which can be frustrating to those who find the predictable plot mechanics and accompanying tone to be too overwrought to be entirely enjoyable, which is an understandable – if not very harsh – criticism that implies that every work needs to be pushing boundaries. In reality, this is just a heartfelt drama about human connection, and while we can eventually begin to predict every beat of the narrative, it’s undeniable that this film’s heart is in the right place, which is more important than anything else happening beneath the surface.

The Most Beautiful Day is not a particularly daring or revolutionary film, and at its core it is actually quite pedestrian and predictable – but this doesn’t disqualify it from still being a relatively charming, compelling affair with enough heart and soul to compensate for its marginal shortcomings. It doesn’t redefine the genre or act in any way that can be considered even vaguely unique, but it does make up for it in terms of actively trying to challenge the status quo in its own small but substantial way. The solid performances are filled to the brim with such incredible humanity, the offbeat humour intermingles wonderfully with the more serious concepts, creating a narrative that shows that the path towards healing does not need to be an entirely dour affair, and that we can instead find a lot of value in the act of simply letting go and embracing the joys that continue to exist in life, even when it feels like all hope has been extinguished. It is an easygoing film that runs a mere 90 minutes, delivering a strong story in a simple, straightforward manner that never overstays its welcome and offers us exactly what we expect, which is valuable in itself. Heartfelt, funny and always charming, while also being quite revealing in terms of the discussion on how to process grief and move forward when life is most challenging, The Most Beautiful Day is a solid and compelling film that offers us much more than we would expect based on a cursory glance.