 A FilmExposed Film Review |
 Dir: Céline Sciamma, 2007, France, 85 mins, French with subtitles
Cast: Pauline Acquart, Louise Blachère, Adèle Haenel, Warren Jacquin
Life’s tough. But life as a teenage girl is pure torture. Boys, at least, can release their pent-up feelings by hugging each other and leaping around half naked with their pants on their heads. Girls, meanwhile, must make do with hiding their frustrations behind deadpan, inscrutable faces.
Or so is life according to Water Lilies.
Shortlisted for Un Certain Regard at the 2007 Cannes Film Festival and nominated for The Sutherland Trophy, Water Lilies is an impressive, and critically acclaimed, debut from 27-year old director Céline Sciamma. This lovingly crafted slice of adolescent life takes a close look at the sexual awakenings of three very different 15-year old girls, whose lives intersect at a swimming pool in a Parisian suburb. Marie (Acquart), is succumbing to the all-consuming feelings of falling in love. And to add a degree of complexity, she’s falling in love with another girl. Floriane (Blachère) is the other girl. Captain of a synchronised swimming team, she is charged with leading an army of splashing, smiling girls to battle. She’s also extremely beautiful and her ability to attract men to her like office workers to a tin of biscuits has won her a bad reputation and made her unpopular. While gawky, awkward Marie falls deeper in love, the seductive Floriane happily uses her for her own selfish aims. Then in the background there’s Anne. She’s a larger girl, struggling with her self-image in a pool of lithe bodies whilst trying to hold on to both her dignity and her friendship with Marie.
From the suggestive eating of bananas, to the endless pouting, to the parades of girls changing in and out of swimming costumes, the film resembles a long, adventurous love scene that’s building towards a messy climax. Floriane in particular does a stunning job as the village tease, flirting mercilessly with anyone who dares cross her path, yet slowly revealing to Marie a vulnerable core.
There are some fantastic scenes. The moment when Marie watches synchronised swimming under the water is a stroke of genius. It also serves to explain the French name for the film, Naissance de Pieuvres (Birth of the Octopuses), a title sadly dropped for audiences outside France. The stark contrast between serene faces above and wildly swirling limbs below is a handy metaphor for the film, symbolising the cool exteriors that must mask a torrent of emotions. Save for an overly-sinister tinge, the acting is excellent, made even better for the fact that Sciamma found Marie and Anne on the streets of Paris, favouring looks over acting ability.
At times, though, Water Lilies feels contrived, and the characters less than believable. Where are the parents? Where’s the flowing dialogue? Where are the boys with personalities? Though these were all omitted intentionally according to Sciamma – to leave the spotlight on the struggles of the main characters – their absence just makes them all the more noticeable, and renders the story one-dimensional. Still, an interesting and unique study of the power of uncontrollable teenage hormones. And worth a look as Sciamma's take on teen-angst offers up some of the bravest and most excruciating scenes to be taken on by non-actresses. |
