Girlhood, a French drama about poor black teens on the outskirts of Paris, opens with an electrifying sequence set to throbbing dance rock by composer Jean-Baptiste de Laubier. Football players burst onto a gridiron for a night game, their play rendered in slow motion, and in their helmets and shoulder pads they look like pretty tough dudes. A last-minute touchdown prompts wild celebration, but as the players yank off their helmets, the dudes turn out to be women, who separate into their respective teams and file past each other to exchange high fives. When they’re done they melt into a single crowd, winners and losers alike, jumping and cheering in sheer exhilaration at their shared power. Director Céline Sciamma backs up for a long shot as the lights on the field are shut down, cutting short the girls’ victory rave and plunging them into darkness. One gets the feeling that otherwise they’d be there all night.
Physical force governs every relationship in Girlhood—when Marieme returns home from Paris, her brother chokes her into submission—and eventually it even reverses the power dynamic between her and Lady. A feud has been brewing between Lady’s crew and another gang of girls, egged on by the men in the neighborhood, and when Lady and the other gang leader finally square off, Lady gets her ass kicked. Not only does the other woman take her down, she pulls Lady’s shirt off over her head, and her humiliation is captured in a cell phone video that soon goes viral. Lady’s father responds by cutting her hair, and the guys in the neighborhood jeer at her. “You shame us all, dumbass,” declares one guy. “Playing the warrior in the ‘hood. You’re just a chick.” Marieme wants revenge on the rival gang, and when Lady refuses to set up a rematch, Marieme arranges one herself. This time the other girl goes down; Marieme yanks off her opponent’s shirt, produces a jackknife, and cuts off the girl’s red bra, pocketing it as a war trophy.
Directed by Céline Sciamma
