Jeune Femme (Montparnasse Bienvenue)

The diversity on cinema has been one of the topics that has generated more discussions over the last few years. The traditional figure of the filmmaker as a white heterosexual man is more than ever been questioned, and thanks to that, new voices have emerged to claim their space in cinema and their right to tell their own stories.

A film like Jeune Femme, where all the top positions in the film process (director, producer, cinematographer, editor, art director, music composer) are held by women comes to show us how rewarding could be this new openness to diversity. The story of Paula, a woman who is left by her long time older lover, and needs to start a fresh life in Paris, comes as a great analysis of gender and personal identity, with one of the most charming female characters in the last years (in a way she reminds us a bit of Lady Bird, also created by another female filmmaker).

On the surface, it's a traditional character arc: Paula is irresponsible and immature, and facing the roughness of a life of her own, she will need to grow up as a person if she wants to have a chance in the world. But if we start scratching a little bit under the surface, Paula represents the debunk of some female stereotypes: she was the object of affection of a rich and famous man who made her feel like all she needed in life was love; but then, growing older, without education or money of her own, she is totally at her lover's mercy, and she is totally disposable for him. This emotional trip might seem like it is to find maturity as a human being, when in reality it is a quest for independence and dignity as a woman.

Laetitia Dosch is delightful as Paula, she has a way to involve us in her demeanors and to create a unique personality, one that is fully lovable no matter how wrong she could be. She could lie, deceive, and wreck her world in silly ways, but what Dosch along with writer-director Léonor Serraille achieve is a complex character that breathes humanity in every decision she takes, and that is authentic and consistent, with a growth that is never moral or condescending. Dosch goes from energetic to anxious with extreme ease, and her spark floods the entire film with a strong personality that is very well matched with an aesthetic that if it's mostly conservative, it takes chances to display, through camera use and detailed misè-en-scéne, the agitated life of our anti-hero.

Serraille won the Camera d'Or at Cannes last year, the most valuable prize that a first feature can get. Her work reveals an amazing ease for dialogue and for character construction, and a brilliant translation of feminism from theory to fiction. As a screenwriter she makes an ironic comedy out of the human absurd, even when the episodic structure leaves some threads hanging in the air, and as a director, she is adventurous and provoking, she aces rhythm and give us some hints of what could be a personal style if she decides to keep exploring disruptive aesthetics.