Tomboy (2011)
Directed by Céline Sciamma

Film Review

In 2007, first-time director Céline Sciamma garnered worldwide acclaim with her debut feature Naissance des pieuvres, an incisive and refreshingly down-to-Earth portrayal of adolescent homosexual awakening taken from a distinctly feminine perspective.  For her follow-up feature, Sciamma remains with the thorny subject of sexual identity, but takes us back a few years, into that halcyon first summer of childhood when, as infants, we became conscious of our gender identity and perhaps began to sense the earliest glimmerings of our sexual orientation.  Whilst its subject matter may be somewhat provocative, such is the sincerity and warmth with which the film is crafted that it can hardly fail to win over an audience.

Tomboy is a film that challenges our assumptions about gender, that it is purely a physiological phenomenon, fixed at birth, and instead shows us that gender is in fact far more fluid and ambiguous in nature, inextricably linked to the psychological development of the individual.  It also persuades us that identity is not just a matter of who we think we are, but also of how others perceive us.  When the main character of the film is introduced to us, we immediately mistake her for a boy - she looks exactly like a boy, she speaks like a boy, she acts like a boy.  In fact, we go on believing she is a boy until the bath-time reveal convinces us of our error, and even then we are scarcely able to believe what we see.  Our preconceptions are dangerous things, as the film powerfully demonstrates.

Not only is Tomboy a film that tackles a complex issue with sensitivity and understanding, it is also an enchanting piece of cinema in its own right, beautifully photographed, admirably lacking in self-awareness and excelling as much in the quality of its performances as in its writing and mise-en-scène.  It is also one of the most authentic and moving portrayals of childhood that has ever been committed to celluloid, reminiscent of François Truffaut's L'Argent de poche (1976).  As in Truffaut's film, Tomboy deftly accomplishes a child's eye view of the world, beguiling us with the arresting naturalistic quality of the performances whilst luring us into a universe that is unmistakably that of the child, one that is purely instinctive and sensual, as yet untainted by the terrible passions and vices of adulthood.

What makes the film so engaging, so harrowingly believable are the remarkable contributions from the principal child actors.   Zoé Héran and Jeanne Disson (who play Laure/Michael and Lise respectively) are extraordinary to the point of heart-breaking, their portrayals far more convincing and engaging than any adult actor would ever be capable of delivering.   Nothing can prepare us for the sheer cruelty of the film's ending which, although entirely predictable (clearly Laure's deception is going to be exposed at some point), is almost excruciating to watch, such is the heartrending sense of injustice that these two delightful young actresses bring to the screen.  Tomboy is a major achievement for a young filmmaker with relatively little experience, a film that is effortlessly true to life and one that cannot fail to leave a lasting impression on anyone who watches it.

Film Synopsis

Laure is ten years old and delights in being something of a tomboy.  Pretty dolls and fancy dresses have no interest for her.  She would rather kick a ball about and act like a boy.  In fact she wishes she was a boy.  When she moves to a new neighbourhood one summer, she gets her chance to fulfil her dream.  Not knowing her, the children in the area mistake her for boy, and so she introduces herself as Michael.  Not only are the boys deceived, evidenced by the fact that they let Laure/Michael play with them, but so is Lise, a sweet little girl who cannot help falling in love with her...