With The Little Sister (La petite dernière), one more taboo in Arab cinema – that Islamic faith and queerness can find no common ground in a woman’s life — is broken. This complicated coming-out story, based on Fatima Daas’s much-praised debut novel and set in a heavily Muslim suburb of Paris, shows the contradiction-ridden life of 17-year-old Fatima as she transitions from high school to university and from sexual inexperience to lesbian relationships and Gay Pride. It is an emotional film, but also one filled with joyful moments of sheer fun; breath-takingly frank, without being vulgar. Its bow in Cannes competition should give it the visibility for a wide art house launch, though its topic may make it a difficult sale to some Muslim countries.
Though Hafsia Herzi has been best known as a popular actress ever since Abdellatif Kechiche’s 2007 The Secret of the Grain launched her with festival audiences, this is actually her third film as a writer and director. In subject and execution, it marks a leap forward from her 2021 drama Good Mother and 2019 romcom You Deserve a Lover, and its extraordinary main actress, newcomer Nadia Melliti, should add mileage to its festival travels.
In the role of the teenage Fatima, Melliti imparts an edgy seriousness that reflects the social and personal impact of a Muslim woman joyfully coming to terms with her lesbianism. Of course this happens in Paris, where freedom of choice is the default setting. But even as she takes the plunge and goes on her first dates with women located on a dating app, she is aware that her sexuality will never be accepted by her family, however warm and loving her parents and sisters are. One of the most moving scenes shows the tenderness of her mother who senses something is bothering Fatima and tries to draw her out; when she remains silent and on the verge of tears, her mother gives her a football jersey with her name on it, delicately indicating she knows what the issue is. The filmmakers leave it at that, basically admitting there is going to be no solution on a family level.
But there is the chance to move forward on a personal level. The first shots show Fatima wrapped in a burqa, saying early morning prayers. Filmed in profile against early morning light, it is a beautiful image of quiet devotion and faith. A few minutes later, she is dressed in cool black leather for school, with punky pierced ears and hair pulled back in an unforgiving ponytail. Her besties are the rowdy (male) class bullies and she joins them in tormenting an openly gay student; but her own sexuality is no secret to the victim. When he accuses her of being gay, she lashes out violently.
Perhaps to maintain as illusion of straightness for her family, Fatima also has a self-centered young man in her life who has been trying to push her into a loveless marriage, an offer she neither refuses nor accepts for the time being.
In short, Fatima’s identity is a bit of a mess. It’s a relief when she gets up her courage to secretly meet Ingrid, a woman in her 30s who kindly schools her in lesbian ways and “specialities” which she graphically describes. As Fatima becomes more confident, she slips into a real relationship with a young Korean nurse Ji-Na (Park Ji-min) she has met in the hospital, where she goes for treatment for asthma attacks. But the course of love is never smooth, certainly not in this film, and trouble is on the way.
Her first days of university bring new friends (male, gay, trans) who hook her up with a fun-loving crowd who accept her unquestioningly and introduce her to joyful, splashy parties and nightlife in a long dance sequence enlivened by DP Jérémie Attard’s richly colored imagery and award-winning composer Amin Bouhafa’s rocking music beat.
As for the central question of religious faith that powers Fatima’s inner tumult, the film offers no comforting answers. While her philosophy prof lectures about personal emancipation in the history of ideas, a turbaned old mullah who Fatima approaches for counsel is much less tolerant about reconciling her faith with her attraction to women. His orthodox replies are so obvious and expected they get a laugh from the audience, but leave the girl in tears. There is, indeed, still a long way to go.
Director: Hafsia Herzi
Screenplay: Hafsia Herzi, based on a book by Fatima Daas
Cast: Nadia Melliti, Park Ji-min, Sophie Garagnon, Gioia Farisano
Producers: Julie Billy, Naomi Denamur, Olivier Père
Cinematography: Jérémie Attard
Editing: Géraldine Mangenot
Production design: Dièné Bérété
Costume design: Caroline Spieth
Music: Amin Bouhafa
Sound mixing: Guilhem Domercq
Sound editing: Remi Durel
Production companies: June Films, Katuh Studio
World Sales: MK2 Films
Venue: Cannes Film Festival (Competition)
In French
106 minutes
