Saint Omer

Being too subtle for your own good can sometimes hurt your film and turn it into a boring slog. The fact that this film has been hailed as creative and exciting, when 90% of it consists of a camera being set up on a tripod filming people talk, is beyond me.

One of the times where knowing very little about a film before seeing it was actually a bad call for me, as a little context went a long way. Extremely subtle, which sometimes harms it but mostly means the small comments that reveal so much - and the wildly powerful climactic moments - hit incredibly hard. Does a lot with technically simple shot composition, and give Guslagie Malanga a billion awards, please.

Aside: I can never get over how bananas the French trial system is. Crazy to me that this is how legal proceedings work there. I found the deliberateness of the film ostentatious and distracting. E.g. the slow panning back and forth in the courtroom, the 20 minute stretches of testimony that didn’t change in tone. The parts of the script that aren’t derived from court transcripts hinge upon empathizing with what Rama is thinking and feeling but the writing and acting doesn’t let you in.

Alice Diop says that the dialogue is almost a verbatim copy of a trial she watched. To the extent that this is true, it explains why the movie suffers from repetition. Conversely, the movie depicts the prosecutor blatantly leading his witness and being argumentative, both counsels badgering witnesses, and not a single objection is sounded, and I somehow doubt the veracity of that. The subject matter had potential and there was a better movie hidden here somewhere.

Despite its flaws, “Saint Omer” is a thought-provoking and emotionally powerful film that explores complex themes of motherhood, trauma, and identity. The outstanding performances by Kayije Kagame and Guslagie Malanda, combined with the exceptional cinematography, make this a film worth seeing. However, the enigmatic approach may not be to everyone’s liking, and the lack of direct communication between the two main characters may leave some viewers feeling unsatisfied.

Diop lets issues of race, national identity, history, and gender roles float freely through the film without attempting to offer any neat conclusions. Laurence’s (and Kabou’s) crime might be a uniquely horrific isolated incident, but Saint Omer makes its connections to the larger world impossible to ignore. Her story may not make sense, but that doesn’t mean there’s nothing to be learned from it.