Julie zwijgt

This quiet, intense film shows its protagonist coming to terms with an abusive tennis coach and the damage he has wrought. The story is told chronologically in short scenes, generally with static camera, and often events important to the plot happen between scenes. This technique, coupled with the dim Flemish light beautifully captured by Nicolas Karakatsanis' photography, increases the sense of foreboding that pervades the film. We're never quite sure what Julie is thinking (she's a teenager!) as she finds her way through the minefield in which she finds herself. Tessa Van den Broeck, who is in most every frame, does an outstanding job portraying both the inscrutable teenager and the hypercompetitive tennis star. Caroline Shaw's music is used sparingly but effectively to comment on the action. The dialogue moves seamlessly back and forth between Flemish and French, with English phrases here and there. All in all, an outstanding job of telling a complicated, nuanced story with subtlety and grace.

This is truly a little masterpiece, executed to perfection. Cinematography, acting, editing, setting and the sparse use of music -all combine seamlessly. It feels effortless, revealing just how much love and effort went into it. There is a natural blend of Flemish and French unseen in Belgian cinema. But this is exactly how kids talk in the affluent communities around Brussels. And yes, don't they all struggle with German.

This film is so delicate that even the verb in the title throws it off balance. Simply 'Julie' would suffice. And yet, each bounce of the tennis ball feels like the dynamite straight out of Clouzot's 'Wages of Fear'.

The movie follows Julie, an up-and-coming tennis talent, as she navigates the complex emotions surrounding her relationship with her coach, who has suddenly been placed on non-active status after his previous prodigy's tragic suicide.

The opening scene beautifully sets the tone, with Julie practicing against an invisible opponent without a ball-an early metaphor for the invisible, internal battle she's fighting. This visual motif hints at her isolation and inner turmoil, drawing the viewer in with an eerie quietness. As soon as she receives a call informing her that her coach won't be there, you sense that something is off, and that feeling persists throughout the film.

One of the film's greatest strengths is its respect for the audience's intelligence. It gives us the time and silence to process what might have happened and fill in the blanks on our own, rather than spoon-feeding us every detail from A to Z. This approach heightens the tension, which remains loose for most of the film, in sharp contrast to the scenes where Julie comes into contact with her previous coach. Her mobile phone becomes a kind of Trojan horse, introducing dread into even her safest spaces, like her own bedroom. Although her parents create a safe environment and don't push her to open up, every time her phone is visible, it evokes a knot in the viewer's stomach.

The movie skillfully keeps its audience in suspense. It doesn't immediately reveal the details of what transpired between Julie and her coach, but the weight of the mystery is felt in every scene. Julie's refusal to speak about what happened, despite clear signs of trauma, speaks volumes, and the film handles this silence with both tension and sensitivity.

A beautiful arc emerges as the distance between Julie and her old coach grows. We see her smile more, and it's genuinely heartwarming to witness her gradual emotional recovery. It's especially impressive how the lead actress, at such a young age, conveys Julie's internal struggle without needing to spell it out. The nuances in her performance make her journey feel authentic.

As the movie progresses, it becomes clear that Julie Keeps Quiet isn't so much about what happened to her in the past, but rather about Julie slowly rediscovering herself after enduring trauma. This shift in focus is both subtle and powerful, allowing the film to deliver a more profound message about resilience and self-recovery.

I'm on to these types of indie films which have a rapid fire sequence of mundane scenes. The director is simply trying to hide the fact that the plot is razor thin, and that is his attempt as well to keep the audience's attention.

This, Unfortunately, is a classic example of that.

That said, this was an okay watch.

In the credits of this film, one name stands out: that of Naomi Osaka as an executive producer. The tennis player has made no secret of the mental stress caused by top level match playing.

That's exactly what this film is about. It shows Julie, a promising teenage tennis player, coping with the effects caused by a scandal in her tennis club. She is not directly involved by the events, but she cannot escape them either. Although the people around her urge her to 'talk about it', she refuses, insisting there is nothing to say.

Julie seems to be a rather withdrawn girl, although she is popular with her friends. For the viewer, it is not easy to identify with a protagonist who doesn't show her feelings. The result is that not a lot happens in the film. We see Julie training, talking with her friends and parents, walking her dog, and going to school. On the surface, her life is not very eventful. It is up to the viewer to explore what's going on beneath the surface. We get indications, and we see her struggling, as the people around her do. But everything stays unspoken, as is clearly indicated by the title of the film.

Viewers around me at the Film Festival in Ghent, seemed dissapointed but not dismissive. "I was hoping something would happen at the end", the girl on my right side remarked. "What was exactly the point?", a woman to my left remarked.

I think the director has left the answer to that question intentionally open. He didn't spell it out, but has left it for us to discover. If there is a point, I think it could be that preparing young people for a very competitive sports environment should be done with ultimate care.

I know, that doesn't sound spectacular and it probably won't stimulate large crowds to see this film. But some film makers prefer quiet 'slice of life'-movies over high-octane spectacles. Just ask the Dardenne brothers. They are also producers of this film.