Compared to other film festivals, Cannes is particularly resistant to programming debuts, especially in competition. Most Cannes alumni got their start elsewhere and had to “work their way up” before receiving the invite from the Mother of all fests. That’s why, when a first-time filmmaker is considered worthy to compete at Cannes, you pay attention. This year, there’s only one such exception – French writer/director Agathe Riedinger with Wild Diamond. It’s a hard-hitting, hot-blooded social drama/character study that shows promise of a new, fiercely assured cinematic voice, even if the story it tells isn’t breaking any ground.
The film centers around Liane (Malou Khebizi), a 19-year-old living with her single mom and kid sister under pretty unglamorous circumstances in rural France. She resells stolen goods to be able to afford all the bling that goes into maintaining her carefully kept image on social media. The goal is to make it as an influencer one day and leave her backwater town for good. When she got a call-back after auditioning to be on a reality TV show, fame – the surefire solution to all her woes – seems finally within reach.
With ultra-realistic strokes that observe without judgment or romanticism, Wild Diamond paints an utterly convincing portrait of a social class stuck in hopeless poverty and a generation hooked on the allure of celebrity. For girls like Liane, the number of followers one has is the only true barometer of success and the “fans” one’s never met ultimately mean more than friends or family. There has been films that deal with the toxic, alienating effects of social media, but Riedinger successfully added that extra touch of urgency to her storytelling that feels electrifying. From the get-go, we are firmly placed inside the protagonist’s first-person worldview and all her youthful frustrations, fears and fury get under your skin.
On a technical level, Riedinger’s command of visual and sonic language is strong. Even when the film meanders somewhat in the mid-section, its style remains arresting. A scene where Liane is chased by her maybe-boyfriend through a sun-drenched McDonald’s beams with sweetness and showcases the director’s remarkable skill for capturing dynamism on camera. Scenes like this and other quiet, tender moments shared by the almost-couple not only offer a respite from the film’s overall severeness, but add texture to the heroine’s conflicted inner world. Khebizi, who absolutely sells the tough and resourceful side of Liane, communicates her fragility in these scenes beautifully. This being the very first of 22 competition films to screen this year, it’s obviously way too early to make any sort of call, but she may just end up being a contender for the best actress prize – weaker performances have won before.
Over at the Un Certain Regard sidebar, things kicked off today with the premiere of Icelandic writer/director Rúnar Rúnarsson’s relationship drama When the Light Breaks. If Wild Diamond is about someone trying to hide their emotional self behind an IG-filtered façade, When the Light Breaks is all about emotions – particularly the sad kind.
You wouldn’t know that in the opening scene, where two lovebirds Una and Diddi are enjoying a romantic sunset by the sea and planning the trips they’ll go on after graduating college. Through their discussion you realize they’ve had to keep the relationship a secret because Diddi is supposed to still be together with another girl called Klara. But the two shall finally be able to openly live as a couple because Diddi is ready to tell Klara it’s over between them. When he travels home to do just that in the early morning, however, Diddi is killed in a traffic accident. (All of this happens in the first 10 minutes before the title card drop, so not really a spoiler.)
As can be expected, such tragic news lead to lots of tears. Una cries, Diddi’s buddies cry, and when Klara joins them from out of town, she cries as well. Usually such overtly sentimental setup’s wear thin quickly, but When the Light Breaks gradually evolves into a study on grief as the dynamics between Una and Klara percolate. Una, devastated by the death of her love, feels doubly hurt because she can’t tell the others why. And when she sees Diddi’s buddies rushing to comfort Klara as the one who’s left behind, is it jealousy, indignation or hatred that burns inside her? Would it be right for her to tell Klara what she never got to hear from Diddi? In its unassuming, delicate way, the film seems to ask: Can anyone claim entitlement to grief – or is grief something to be infinitely shared?
I think Rúnarsson’s screenplay falls a bit on the thin side even for a 82-min film. Having said that, I do like how the story organically turns into one about the two women and how it depicts this dynamic haunted by both rivalry and understanding. Several scenes towards the end where, wordlessly, the two grow closer to one another prove both visually striking and emotionally affecting.
So that’s Day 2 at the 77th Cannes Film Festival. Still waiting for the first masterpiece to drop. Will tomorrow – when among other things a certain film that rhymes with Legamopolis premieres – be the day?