Saint Omer, 2022.
Directed by Alice Diop.
Starring Kayije Kagame, Guslagie Malanga, Atillahan Karagedik, Aurélia Petit, Ege Guner, Mustili, Fatih Berk Şahin, Salih Sigirci, Valérie Dréville, Xavier Maly, Robert Cantarella, Salimata Kamate, and Thomas De Pourquery.
SYNOPSIS:
Follows Rama, a novelist who attends the trial of Laurence Coly at the Saint-Omer Criminal Court to use her story to write a modern-day adaptation of the ancient myth of Medea, but things don’t go as expected.
The trial at the center of Alice Diop’s (making her feature-length narrative debut following working in television and documentary shorts) Saint Omer involves Senegalese-born, France-based philosophy student Laurence Coly (a brilliantly emotive Guslagie Malanda, using long stretches of silence and calibrated glances to say more about her situation than words ever could) accused for leaving her 15-month-old child near the shoreline overnight, where the waters took her and drowned her rather than sweeping her away to a better life. Nevertheless, it’s murder, and while Laurence recounts some rough years leading up until that point, there is also the sensation that she has been deeply unwell or mentally traumatized for some time (she often speaks of sorcery influencing her aberrant behavior).
No one is asking viewers to take Laurence’s side or search for justification in her actions, but as the courtroom drama goes on (complete with stirring long takes focused on pained body language) and the mostly white judges continue to press her about her personal life, it also becomes clear that prejudice is at play regardless of innocence or guilt. They contain an uncomfortably easy willingness to oppress, dismiss, and rewrite the troubling aspects of her life that would lead to such drastic and unforgivable actions. Whether it’s a fractured relationship with her mother or an older white man for a boyfriend, it’s all used against her rather than as a tool for understanding (not to mention, there is no second-guessing anything the shady boyfriend says)
However, we are not the only ones locked into observing this trial, as literary professor and novelist Rama (an equally muted yet movingly expressive turn from Kayije Kagame) is sitting in on the proceedings, gathering information and resources to tie together to her upcoming book on the Greek tragedy of Medea, which also involves infanticide. And while Alice Diop’s filmmaking is primarily static and content on letting the performances and facial expressions do the work (working alongside a sharp script from Amrita David, Marie N’Diaye, and consultant Zoé Galeron), it’s through those altering shots that we sense these characters piecing together a mutual understanding, especially considering Rama is also pregnant and has a rocky history with her own mother.
In between the trial, Rama also converses with her supportive husband Adrien (Thomas de Pourquery) and slightly bonds with Laurence’s mother (Salimata Kamate), breaking up the intensely invasive courtroom sessions with something slightly more character driven. There is a sense that Rama is rethinking her intentions with the novel she is working on and her relationship with her mother, and caught somewhere between being nervous about becoming a mother but now prepared not to let the cycle of her family history repeat.
Still, the most emotionally haunting elements of Saint Omer come from not just white systemic oppression but a refusal to listen or offer empathy, opting to lean into generalized labels of “crazy” and “selfish” without engaging with the unfortunate circumstances of Laurence’s life. The case comes down to right and wrong, but the specifics are more complex than that, yet left unheard by everyone except other silent Black women. It is harrowing, meaningfully frustrating, and anchored by brilliant performances forming powerful connections without uttering a word to one another.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★ ★
Robert Kojder is a member of the Chicago Film Critics Association and the Critics Choice Association. He is also the Flickering Myth Reviews Editor. Check here for new reviews, follow my Twitter or Letterboxd, or email me at MetalGearSolid719@gmail.com
Originally published April 17, 2022. Updated April 17, 2023.
