Saint Omer

In a court room in Saint Omer a lady's tried, it's quite bizarre just what she's done, the reasons why, as she's questioned by the beak, the facts and reasons she doth seek, as to why a baby girl was drowned and died. The defendant makes the case that there's a curse, that's been administered by someone who'a averse, to the things that she has done, the way she's lived under the sun, it's intriguing but it's also quite perverse. In the stalls a woman listens with intent, the story of a life, the way that it's been bent, finds too many parallels, in the tale that she sells, and it causes her some confusing lament.

It's a curious piece of filmmaking based on real events, events that are perhaps more relatable to the filmmaker than anyone else, but it's a fascinating watch and might introduce you to the ways of the French legal system, some Greek mythology and/or the conditioning that some people undergo (intentional or otherwise) that can result in the most extreme of outcomes.

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.

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.

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?