07/01/25

Netflix

Mats Steen (1989-2014) was only twenty-five when he died. The young Norwegian’s parents, Robert and Trude, had a lot to mourn: not only their son’s death but also the opportunities that had eluded him in life. Mats was born with Duchenne muscular dystrophy, an inherited disease that causes progressive muscle weakness. Although he could walk unaided as a child, by the time he reached adulthood, he could only move his fingers. Robert and Trude hated how limited Mats’ world was. He just played on his computer all day. He had no friends, had never been in love, rarely ventured beyond the four walls of his basement flat beneath their family home.

Or so they thought…

Reeling from his loss, Robert accessed Mats’ blog and left a message announcing his son’s death.

An avalanche of emails followed. And that’s when Robert and Trude discovered that, in fact, Mats had created a rich life for himself – online, within the World of Warcraft game. Here, he was Lord Ibelin Redmoore: a strong, handsome man, who went for a run every morning and socialised happily in the tavern at night. In role, he and his fellow gamers forged friendships, sharing secrets and heartaches, successes and fears. As Ibelin, in the mythical fantasy land of Azeroth, Mats was – ironically – more himself than he ever was in the real world, where too many people made judgements based on what they saw: at best pitying him; at worst assuming he was stupid.

Directed by Benjamin Ree, The Remarkable Life of Ibelin is an eye-opener, illuminating the power of RPGs. If other non-gamers are anything like me – and I suspect I’m fairly typical – they’ll have a vague idea of quests and shoot-’em-ups, but no real understanding of the games’ potency or potential. This documentary changes that.

Animators Rasmus Tukia and Ada Wikdahl bring Azeroth to the big screen, breathing life into Ibelin and the other avatars, including Mats’ first crush, Rumour (Lisette Roovers), and his friends, Reike (Xenia-Anni Neilson) and NikMik (MIkkel Neilson). The film cuts between home videos of Mats, talking heads of his family and friends, and cleverly animated sequences – creating a nuanced, layered biopic of a complex, intelligent young man.

There’s no denying that this is a heartbreaking piece of cinema; only the flintiest of hearts could fail to be moved. But it’s a celebration too – because Mats had many friends and made a lasting impact. Fantasy and reality are not just blurred, they’re inextricably bound.

4.3 stars

Susan Singfield