Saint Omer

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.

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.

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.

"Saint Omer" is a powerful and thought-provoking film directed by accomplished documentary filmmaker Alice Diop. The film is based on the true story of Fabienne Kabou, a French-Senegalese woman accused of killing her infant daughter and leaving her to drown on a beach. Diop has created a film that leaves the audience with more questions than answers, but it is this approach that allows the film to resonate with anxieties and the undertow of subterranean influence. The film stars Kayije Kagame as Rama, a novelist and professor who is drawn to attend the trial, and Guslagie Malanga as Laurence, the accused woman in the dock. The film's cinematography by Claire Mathon is stunning, and the performances by the lead actors are outstanding. "Saint Omer" is a film that will stay with you long after you've left the theater.

I have to start by saying as I was left the theater, I was pretty certain I did not like this movie. The acting was impeccable, but there were many long scenes of people sitting and thinking and it caused me to lose focus. But after leaving and reflecting on the story - and more importantly the facts of the real-life court case - it stuck with me. This movie has clear philosophical aspirations and asks the viewer to think about the limits of the present criminal justice system.

It would represent a failure of imagination to not be able to think of at least a couple reasons that a perpetrator may be justified for such a heinous act. Maybe the mother was coerced in some way (blackmail or threat of violence); or maybe it was an internal force like a psychotic delusion. All of which could - while not fully absolving her of guilt - lessen the immorality of the act. But what if the explanation were not something rational? Her explanation to the mystified judge is that sorcery was responsible and while that explanation may not make sense in the context of a western judicial system - it also does not mean she is entirely unjustified.

What happens to a solitary life that resulting from an unfair hand dealt to them? A life that in turn, echos affecting others? Are we truly better off locking them and sending them away? Or should we be bringing them in?