Céline Sciamma’s follow-up to 2019’s Portrait of a Lady on Fire, Petite Maman, is an intimate exploration of a mother-daughter relationship with a small dose of magical realism. It doesn’t deter the story from being one that is incredibly grounded and heartwarming. Supported by fantastic central performances, Sciamma paints a deeply thoughtful and compassionate story of grief and love that resonates emotionally.
After losing her grandmother, eight-year-old Nelly (Joséphine Sanz) heads with her mother (Nina Meurisse) and father (Stéphane Varupenne) to clean out the home where she lived. It's difficult for Nelly’s mother to revisit her childhood home and, overcome with emotion, she leaves the packing to Nelly and her dad. As Nelly explores the grounds around the house, she crosses paths with Marion (Gabrielle Sanz, Joséphine’s real-life sister), an eight-year-old who bears a striking resemblance to Nelly. As the two forge a friendship, Nelly begins to piece together that Marion is actually her mother and their relationship adds depth to Nelly’s understanding of her family in the aftermath of loss.
The film tackles grief in a tender, sensitive way — and in all of its forms. While Nelly is grieving the loss of her grandmother, she is also feeling the effects of her mother’s departure (even if temporarily). Spending her days with Marion offers her the closure she was never able to get with her family, with half-told anecdotes from her mother’s youth coming into sharper clarity the longer Nelly hangs out with Marion. Sciamma showcases the obvious love between Nelly and Marion and, despite the distance between them, the gap of closeness is bridged through the former’s relationship with the eight-year-old iteration of her mother. It’s the exploration of this closeness and the ways that it can enrich Nelly’s life and understanding of herself and her mother that Sciamma absolutely nails.
The magical realism of the story adds so much crucial depth, with the directing allowing Nelly and Marion’s feelings — of wonder, confusion, grief, love, understanding, sadness — to rise to the surface, flowing like waves on a shore. Petite Maman is deliberate, with every single one of Sciamma’s shots lingering long enough for the characters and the audience to fully sit with gravity of the unfolding story and its emotional effects. The film is quiet, with the director (as she often does) leaving a musical score out of the film for the most part. When music does finally play, it feels meaningful, poignant, and timed to the characters’ development and overall journey, which makes it all the more memorable.
Sciamma is known for exploring relationships between women and Petite Maman is no different. It’s intimate and childlike in its curiosity and discoveries, which is fitting considering how old the main character is. Crucially, the film is a loving portrayal of the special bond between mothers and daughters, one that is as much about understanding as it is about affection and the sadness of losing that connection. It’s a reminder that mothers were also once children who had fears and hopes and dreams. Sciamma gently and deftly executes the story without forgetting that, despite the fantastical element, it’s still grounded in the strength and love between Nelly and Marion.
Every interaction is thoughtful and builds toward a deeply moving and satisfactory conclusion that capitalizes on the journey and evolution of the central characters’ relationship. Loss and understanding are at the heart of the film and Sciamma, in a little over an hour, does wonders with the story, softly capturing that which is often hard to articulate in a lovely, profound way. Petite Maman is the kind of film that lays itself bare without ever being over-the-top, shaping itself into a story that lingers in one’s memory for a while after it’s over.
Petite Maman had its Toronto International Film Festival premiere on September 9, 2021. The film is 72 minutes long and is not yet rated.