Le Chignon d'Olga (2002)
Directed by Jérôme Bonnell

Film Review

Le Chignon d'Olga marks an auspicious directorial debut for 23-year-old Jérôme Bonnell, a low-key comedy-drama that somehow manages to weave together its wildly contrasting themes - the pangs of a family bereavement and the comical uncertainties of adolescence - into a richly satisfying whole.  Bonnell had only made two short films prior to this but already he shows a flair and maturity in his work that can leave no doubt that he will make a significant impact on the auteur strand of French cinema in the early decades of the 21st century.  Twenty years on, he has amply lived up to his early promise, winning widespread acclaim for his subsequent dramas Les Yeux clairs (2005) and J'attends quelqu'un (2007), whilst successfully shifting onto new ground with his ménage à trois farce À trois on y va (2015).

Impactful though it assuredly is, Bonnell's amiable debut feature isn't without its flaws, mostly on the writing front.  Some of the dialogue is a little too self-conscious in places, the humour appears occasionally forced and the ending isn't quite as satisfying as you might have hoped.  However, there is so much to like about the film that these criticisms can't help feeling a tad churlish.  Le Chignon d'Olga manages to be both light and earnest, insouciant and contemplative, and its occasional slips into naïveté and gauche silliness are part of its appeal.

In a way that vaguely evokes the early work of French New Wave luminaries Eric Rohmer, Jacques Rivette and François Truffaut, the film gently engages the spectator with its naturalistic vignettes depicting one family's efforts to move on from the death of a wife and mother.  Le Chignon d'Olga benefits from having an eminently likeable cast of actors who are perfectly suited to the understated naturalism and spontaneous-feeling comedy that most characterise Bonnell's delightful brand of cinema.

Of particular note are Nathalie Boutefeu (who began her association with the director in his first short Fidèle in 1999), and Florence Loiret-Caille (known to anyone familiar with Claire Denis's work).  Both actresses are highly sought after by France's leading auteur cineastes for their range of abilities, and both would feature prominently in several subsequent Bonnell features.

Serge Riaboukine deserves praise for his devastatingly convincing portrayal of the withdrawn father quietly tormented by the premature death of his wife.  Making his screen debut as the main character Julien, Hubert Benhamdine shows an uncanny resemblance to Truffaut's alter ego Antoine Doinel (with more than a smattering of Woody Allen and Chaplin) - he is both poignant and funny as the lovelorn goof clumsily ambling down a booby-trapped path to adulthood.

The confusion that assails Julien is driven home repeatedly by the film's tonal shifts.  The pain beneath the surface is all the more apparent because of the incongruous way the exterior world is captured, the unbounded optimism of adolescence reflected in the sunny photography and volleys of humour that hint at a much brighter future.

Bonnell's personal proximity to the subject of the film (the central protagonist is almost certainly an approximate self-portrait) is probably what makes it feel so intensely true to life.  With a few more years of adult experience behind him, the writer-director may have had a harder time re-imagining the world of the confused adolescent.  As yet untainted by cynicism and nostalgia lust, he gets us as close to his subject as a committed commentator on the human condition can hope to do.  It is the ease with which Le Chignon d'Olga connects us with our own manic teenage years that makes watching it such a memorably moving experience.

Film Synopsis

Julien and Emma are a teenage brother and sister who live in Beauce, a picturesque semi-rural region of Northern France.  They are still living in the house in which they were born, along with their father Gilles, who gets by as a writer.  It has been a year since Julien's mother died but he still hasn't come to terms with his loss, and neither have his sister and father.  Grief affects them differently but they all find it hard to talk about their bereavement.  It is the end of the summer, and whilst his father struggles to complete his latest commission, a children's story, Julien coasts along, unable to make any firm plans for the future.  Meanwhile, Emma has ended one relationship and hesitates over finding herself a new boyfriend.

One day, Julien catches a glimpse of an attractive young woman named Olga through the window of a bookshop.  From that moment, he becomes increasingly drawn to this fascinating girl with a hair bun and starts having lurid fantasies about her.  Julien appears willing to go to any lengths to get to know Olga better, but he keeps his infatuation to himself.  He doesn't even broach the subject with his childhood friend Alice, with whom he shares all of his secrets.  Just how far will Julien go to satisfy his adolescent yearnings for Olga?