Nikolaj Coster-Waldau and Juliette Binoche in 1,000 Times Good Night (Film Movement)

Through 1,000 Times Good Night, Norwegian co-writer and director Erik Poppe dramatizes his experience as a former photojournalist. At times, it overly romanticizes this dangerous occupation. However, the wonderful performances and stunning cinematography by John Christian Rosenlund make it overall compelling.

It opens on Rebecca (Juliette Binoche), a photojournalist specializing in war conflicts, photographing the ritualistic preparations of a female suicide bomber in Afghanistan. She continues to put herself at risk, going so far as to ask to get into the car with the bomber for a few more shots. Realizing she’s gone too far, she orders the car to stop so she can get out. Noticing there are children nearby, she alerts the onlookers on the street that a bomb is about to go off. It explodes, leaving Rebecca badly injured. She wakes up in a hospital in Dubai where her marine biologist husband, Marcus (Game of Thrones’s Nikolaj Coster-Waldau), waits to take her home to their two daughters near Dublin, and he immediately expresses resentfulness towards Rebecca for putting her life at such risk.

Back home, things are tense with her two daughters, too. Rebecca is having trouble reaching out to her oldest, teenaged daughter, Steph, who’s prone to hiding her concerns. Slowly, Rebecca begins to realize how much she’s been missing, and she promises Marcus she’ll quit conflict photography and focus on the family. Fitting into everyday life is a challenge, though, after her fast-paced, adrenaline-fueled lifestyle. What’s worse for Rebecca: her publication in America refuses to print the photos she almost died to take; the Pentagon fears they are “glamorizing.”

Her change of heart starts off well enough, until a friend, Steve (Mads Ousdal), asks her to take pictures of a refugee camp in Kenya, a situation Steve assures is safe. This interests Steph, who’s working on a project on Africa for school. The pull of another trip, one in which she can take her daughter, complicates Rebecca’s newfound life at home.

At times, it’s tough to feel sorry for or even like Rebecca. She constantly puts her job before her family, making them worry while she leaves them behind for the chance at an affecting photograph. From its opening scenes, the film sets her up as a parallel to the suicide bomber: a woman who must cause her pain and suffering to those around her to convey a powerful message. The beginning also challenges the viewers’ moral compass in regards to Rebecca’s professional judgment. (Marcus expresses their frustration with her decisions.)

Similarly, Lauryn Canny, as Steph, demonstrates the emotional anguish from constantly worrying about the death of a parent. She and Coster-Waldau are the heart of the film, and they deliver excellent performances. Binoche is also quite uncompromising, fully willing at times to let Rebecca’s role as activist (and perhaps her stubbornness) overshadow her role as mother.

As noted earlier, the cinematography here is gorgeous. Shot on location in Ireland, it’s a wonder Rebecca chooses to leave such a place. To accompany the sweeping landscape is a standout score from Armand Amar. While the drama lags in the middle at the home front, there’s enough of a push-and-pull regarding the audience’s reactions to Rebecca to spark interest through the end.