Céline Sciamma's directorial debut 'Water lilies' impressed me with how very good it was, more than first meets the eye. Her last film, 2019's 'Portrait of a lady on fire,' is not just an instant absolute favorite of mine, but in my mind is also unquestionably one of the very best movies ever made. On the strength of these I'm certainly keen to explore the rest of Sciamma's career, and see whatever she might do in the future. Though it may not immediately grab one's attention in quite the same way, 2021's 'Petite maman' readily illustrates once again the filmmaker's terrifically keen eye for arranging shots and scenes. There's an unswerving, simple beauty of film-making and storytelling in nigh every moment: an astonishing wealth of information is communicated to us about the characters, scenario, and plot while presenting us with very little beyond the actors' presence, Sciamma's sharp shot composition, and Claire Mathon's rich cinematography. Before even seven minutes have passed I've already started to fall in love.
Even with so few films under her proverbial belt it's indisputably clear just how masterful Sciamma is in her craft. This feature, like her others, is defined by a stark, heartfelt earnestness in both the tale and its telling, seen primarily but not exclusively in the depths and intricacies of the characters and the relationships between them (whatever their nature). As a writer she gives us stories that are unremittingly lovely and inescapably enchanting, even as they may be sad, tragic, or otherwise less than happy; characters who are real, believable, and sympathetic flesh and blood; and dialogue and scene writing that are so terrifically flavorful that near every line and distinct scene is almost enough to tell a full story in and of itself. In 'Petite maman' we're given grief, love, family, childhood innocence and imagination, friendship, and more - superb even on their own, but truly splendid when swirled together, not least in an uncomplicated tale of light but unmistakable fantasy. Whether in the setting of an idyllic wood or a cozy home, discretely advancing the story or just showing us the life of young protagonist Nelly, there's a nourishing warmth pervading the feature, as true in the screenplay as in Sciamma's refined, fastidious realization of it as director.
Quiet and unembellished as the movie is, informing the performances in turn, the cast is a joy. Sisters Joséphine and Gabrielle Sanz, especially, light up the screen with a perfectly natural, gleeful playfulness, and a sincerity of no pretense, that are wholly unsaddled with the same industry knowledge and worldly experience of their older costars. And really, that rather speaks to the tenor of the feature overall - so unassuming, so unbothered in its plot and the conveyance thereof, yet entirely magnificent exactly as it is. Even still, all this comes to fruition only with the utmost intelligence, passion, and care poured into every last iota - and Sciamma and her cast and crew inarguably possess more than all the greatest of skills that are required to see it through. To be frank, I wasn't sure what I was sitting for when I decided to watch this, but I should have known to trust my past experience with the filmmaker: 'Petite maman' is a masterpiece. If all the effusive praise I've already offered isn't convincing, if all the high regard and accolades bestowed upon Sciamma and her other projects aren't convincing, then I don't know what ever would be. Clocking in at not even 75 minutes, this doesn't occupy much of our time, but it lives on in our minds long, long after the digital timer has expired.
You need to watch this, and there's all there is to it. Thank you, Céline Sciamma. My highest possible recommendation.
Even with so few films under her proverbial belt it's indisputably clear just how masterful Sciamma is in her craft. This feature, like her others, is defined by a stark, heartfelt earnestness in both the tale and its telling, seen primarily but not exclusively in the depths and intricacies of the characters and the relationships between them (whatever their nature). As a writer she gives us stories that are unremittingly lovely and inescapably enchanting, even as they may be sad, tragic, or otherwise less than happy; characters who are real, believable, and sympathetic flesh and blood; and dialogue and scene writing that are so terrifically flavorful that near every line and distinct scene is almost enough to tell a full story in and of itself. In 'Petite maman' we're given grief, love, family, childhood innocence and imagination, friendship, and more - superb even on their own, but truly splendid when swirled together, not least in an uncomplicated tale of light but unmistakable fantasy. Whether in the setting of an idyllic wood or a cozy home, discretely advancing the story or just showing us the life of young protagonist Nelly, there's a nourishing warmth pervading the feature, as true in the screenplay as in Sciamma's refined, fastidious realization of it as director.
Quiet and unembellished as the movie is, informing the performances in turn, the cast is a joy. Sisters Joséphine and Gabrielle Sanz, especially, light up the screen with a perfectly natural, gleeful playfulness, and a sincerity of no pretense, that are wholly unsaddled with the same industry knowledge and worldly experience of their older costars. And really, that rather speaks to the tenor of the feature overall - so unassuming, so unbothered in its plot and the conveyance thereof, yet entirely magnificent exactly as it is. Even still, all this comes to fruition only with the utmost intelligence, passion, and care poured into every last iota - and Sciamma and her cast and crew inarguably possess more than all the greatest of skills that are required to see it through. To be frank, I wasn't sure what I was sitting for when I decided to watch this, but I should have known to trust my past experience with the filmmaker: 'Petite maman' is a masterpiece. If all the effusive praise I've already offered isn't convincing, if all the high regard and accolades bestowed upon Sciamma and her other projects aren't convincing, then I don't know what ever would be. Clocking in at not even 75 minutes, this doesn't occupy much of our time, but it lives on in our minds long, long after the digital timer has expired.
You need to watch this, and there's all there is to it. Thank you, Céline Sciamma. My highest possible recommendation.