56th BFI London Film Festival Review – Sister (2012)

A sad tale about a young boy who financially supports his deadbeat sister.

Simon (Kacey Mottet Klein) is one streetwise kid. He runs a one-man thievery scheme at a Swiss resort in the Alps, selling stolen skis, gloves, masks – the lot – to other children where he lives, and even temporary workers at the holiday spot. Those large, chunky goggles, it seems, make for a rather good disguise.

He knows every model on the market, what lenses you should opt for in bright sunlight, which glove size won’t fall off a child’s hand. He sands down the newer sets of skis to make them appear second hand. His office is one of the resort’s interchangeable toilets. There, he can remove his balaclava, rest his feet, warm his hands and tuck into a sandwich pinched from the rucksack of another, more privileged kid.

Sister follows Simon’s routine in a slow, detached and composed manner. But, as is the way with this style, you find yourself more emotionally connected to him than you would the most endearing of Clooney or Cruises. Those ones are always superficial. With Simon, and the documentary aesthetics in which he’s portrayed, there’s something more. You have to give a little of yourself to him.

Klein’s face could pass for a girl’s in the first few scenes, covered as he is in a Michelin man of ski wear. He has one of those plain, European faces that could pass easily as either gender. His voice has not yet broken, and a single thread of facial hair has yet to appear. When he removes his clothes upon returning to his flat, you realise not only is he not the titular ‘sister’, he’s also not some teenage punk exploiting holidaying Europeans. He’s a kid, and a runty looking one at that.

The ‘sister’ is his older sibling, Louise (Léa Seydoux). She looks quite a bit older, but behaves even younger than Simon. Her profession is never explicitly stated, but she hangs out an awful lot by the road. She’s irresponsible, rude and stays out for days at a time. And she’s all that Simon’s got. Their parents aren’t around anymore.

Simon, through a life lacking in love, sees the objects he steals, and the money he receives in exchange for them, as a means of creating relationships. He befriends a mother (Gillian Anderson) and her two children at the resort, and uncomfortably attempts to pay for lunch. He’s worse with Louise, as giving money to her is the only way she’ll pay any attention to him. At the film’s most desperate moment, starved of affection, Simon begs to sleep next to his sister. She refuses. He offers her 50 francs. 100? 180? He places all he has on her bedside table before snuggling beside her. Simon doesn’t steal for money. He steals for love.

There’s an Oedipal-esque theme running through Sister, with much of the film hinging on the relationship between Simon and Louise. There are supporting characters who help the film along, but it is to them that the narrative belongs. Yet near the end, there seems to be nowhere for them to go. The story appears to have backed itself into a corner, unsure of how to produce a satisfying conclusion.

And then, just as you begin to check your watch, and as the pacing melts away like the Swiss snow at the end of the season, the film produces one of those moments that forces a sudden intake of breathe. A single shot; unexpected, hopeful and exquisite.