Saint Omer

This paints a clear picture of how commonly forced social norms and cultural barriers can largely effect people leading to deplorable acts of violence, almost like a curse that cannot be broken.

I loved what this film presented, a well written, acted and precise story that delivers an interesting broken individual filled with misery. I just wish there was a bit more going on overall with its shot composition, which does the job nicely but in no way stands out, and with it's narrative that, as intriguing as it was, (in my opinion) gave everything it had to give with one viewing.

A good companion piece to Anatomy of a Fall.

A multilayered & morally ambiguous legal drama making a valiant attempt to look for humanity in the inhumane, Saint Omer is as empathetic as it is engrossing and offers an arresting insight into motherhood, generational trauma & immigrant experience through the observing eyes of a novelist attending the trial of a mother accused of murdering her 15-month old child.

Co-written & directed by Alice Diop in her feature film debut, the story is borrowed from a real-life court case and follows a woman who begins to interrogate herself after learning about the accused's upbringing, loneliness & pregnancy and its striking similarity to her own life journey. The courtroom proceedings are gripping and each new detail brings its own complexity to the mix.

The film takes an unbiased approach and provides ample breathing space for the defendant to plead her case, even managing to earn our sympathy for her despite her unforgivable act. Also notable is the static, concise camerawork that keeps the unfolding drama at the forefront at all times while convincing performances from its committed cast make sure that the story remains riveting throughout.

Overall, Saint Omer is handled with care, told with compassion and shot with sophistication to deliver a consistently captivating drama that continues to challenge our morality & perception from start to finish. An impressive debut feature for the French documentarian that works best when allowed to simmer for a while, this French courtroom drama isn't an easy sit but is worth your time. Definitely recommended.

The difference between passing judgement and serving justice is at the heart of this incredibly moving film. Laying open social issues surrounding isolation, education, assimilation, and culture, whilst taking them apart word by word is beautiful to watch. And extremely emotional to experience. With restraint and very few words, the story of two seemingly connected Senegalese women living in France cross roads with the mythical Medea in a tragic tale of loss. The actors are powerful and I found myself engrossed watching the film even more the second time around. This one is not for the faint hearted.

This was a fairly interesting courtroom drama about alienation and clashing cultures where certain parts of Coly's life were reflected in that of Rama's. Both women are Senegalese, are in interracial relationships, and have complex relationships with their mothers. Aside from a couple brief scenes here and there and a few quality close up shots, the film doesn't do a whole lot with Rama's connection to Coly. The scenes which occur outside of the courtroom which give us a personal look at how the court hearing is affecting Rama feel rushed through as the film is constantly eager to cut back to the lengthy courtroom sequences. Fortunately, what we get in that regard is quite thought provoking and layered. While watching it, I frequently thought about my experience reading "Native Son". While neither works attempt to apologize for the crimes of the respective characters in each, they instead portray the various factors which led to the crimes taking place and recontexualize the violent criminal trope which is used all too often and instead portray them more as everyday humans. The more Coly opens up throughout the film, the more we begin to understand the various factors which shaped her and led to her actions. The most telling bits for me was when her boyfriend (who's noticeably much older than her) was revealed to have gone through great lengths to hide Coly from his family and ignored her distress when she needed him the most. While understanding the nature of a crime is interesting though, so were the parallels between Coly and Rama. Given how much Rama's character existed on the outside edges of the film and how it kept seeming like we'd finally be given more to latch on to with her, there were some noticeable missed opportunities involved. The film had quite a lot of potential and capitalized on maybe 2/3 of it at best. Still though, the film sat decently well with me upon reflection and thinking about its themes and strategies later on was enjoyable. I think I preferred that over watching the film.

Alice Diop and her cast are truly amazing... In previous work (Vers la tendresse), she managed to capture some of the emotional struggles of young French men with a migratory background and living in economically deprived Parisian suburbs. In Saint Omer, she focuses on the emotional struggles of women from a similar background. This is the story of two daughters, Rama and Laurence. Rama is a symbol of the French meritocratic system. From a modest background and of African descent, she is a university professor and a successful novelist. We understand that her mother, probably a cleaning lady, used to leave home very early to go to work. Laurence, a former student in philosophy, passionate about Wittgenstein, "never wanted for anything". With the financial support of her parents, she emigrated from Senegal as a young adult to study in France. Laurence is being tried for killing her 15-month-old daughter and Rama is attending her trial. As she listens to Laurence, her chldhood, her relationship with her parents, and in particular her mom, Rama is brought to reflect and feel about her relationship with her own mother. Laurence and Rama are two highly assimilated women, materially standing on the sore shoulders of their respective mothers, and who have achieved a level of social success that is often denied to men from similar communities. And yet, deep down, both of them suffer from the (perceived?) lack of warmth and love of their mothers, with terrible consequences for Laurence and her relationship with her own daughter.

This is a story about parental love, and in particular between emotionally struggling mothers and their unseen daughters. It's not specific to any community or economic background. What, to me, makes it a true masterpiece, is the compassion we are left feeling for all these women.