Oslo exemplifies the kind of trite writing that audiences of both Broadway and prestige television mistake for profound due to the script occasionally peppering in reminders of its important historical context. In truth, its apolitical stance not only underplays Israeli war crimes, but also often resorts to infuriating conversations. Some place the two Norwegians as something like saviors via monologue, while others aim for a misplaced sense of levity, as if all of Israel and Palestine’s issues could disappear simply because two men on opposite sides learn their daughters have the same name. (That is an actual scene!) And though the film acknowledges that its central conflict remains unresolved with historical footage (which Wilson and Scott are sometimes awkwardly spliced into), it has absolutely nothing to say about the issue other than bland canards about how humans should treat each other with respect.
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