“The motor of the film is Eva Huault’s vibrant, gregarious performance.”

In Lila Pinell’s lively solo directorial debut, twenty-something Shana (Eva Huault) lives in the Paris banlieue, juggling part-time jobs, a complicated relationship with her family, and the imminent release from prison of her drug-dealer boyfriend Moses. From the opening scene of the film — a game of Werewolf amongst friends that goes riotously off the rails thanks to Shana’s loudmouth attitude — it is clear that Shana’s personality makes her equal parts lovable and frustrating to those around her. This is most apparent in her relationship with her mother Yolande (Noémie Lvovsky), who attempts to be the ideal mother for Shana’s half-sister Ilana but whose past actions are at the root of Shana’s continual self-sabotage. After her grandmother’s death, Shana is gifted a ring that is said to ward off the evil eye and all misfortunes, which may be just what she needs as troubles begin to pile up…

Pinell takes a refreshingly light-hearted approach to material that could have veered into social-realism drama in other hands. Particularly in the first half of the film, she infuses it with an irreverent sense of humor that makes Shana a strangely lovable heroine to follow amongst her family squabbles and her social woes; Shana may be a mess, but she’ll always find humor in any situation. But Shana is full of contradictions: she happily calls out her friends and family for their own attitudes and toxic behaviors but is completely unwilling to recognize the emotionally abusive nature of her relationship with Moses, even after it is revealed that he was imprisoned on domestic violence charges. It’s an attitude that is unfortunately reflective of many people who find themselves in such relationships, and Pinell admirably refuses to give this aspect of the film a feel-good cinematic sheen. Although not fully articulated until the final minutes of the film, a key component is Shana’s uncomfortable relationship with her family’s Jewish heritage, seen in how out of place she is at family gatherings and the recurring illustrations of the biblical plagues (occasionally made literal, as in a darkly funny moment where Shana attempts to retrieve a hidden stash of cocaine). By film’s end, Shana’s chosen family has taken prominence, illustrating how sometimes we must build our own communities to accept our true selves.

The second half of the film, where Shana must resort to any and all options to acquire the cash that she has ‘borrowed’ from Moses during his jail stint, is where Pinell’s growing pains as a writer/director become more apparent. The comedic energy of the first half gives way to anxiety, and the story loses some of its charm. Victor Zébo’s grainy cinematography gives Shana an almost fairytale-like vibe, reinforced by the biblical illustrations and the presence of a ring that is said to protect its wearer, and the film would have benefitted from leaning more into this rather than gesturing at it. The two halves don’t work together quite successfully, although the film’s final minutes return to the light, hangout vibes of its beginning.

The motor of the film is Eva Huault’s vibrant, gregarious performance. In her hands, Shana is a compelling protagonist that you can’t help but root for even in her most frustrating moments. She may be a mess, but underneath her rough exterior is a woman still bruised from a childhood abandonment and looking for love in all the wrong places, unable to recognize the abusive reality of her relationship. She’s surrounded by a charming ensemble, a mix of professional and non-professional actors, with Noémie Lvovsky once again a scene-stealer as her overbearing mother.

While not without its flaws, Shana is a very promising debut that signals the arrival of an original voice in French cinema; Pinell is unafraid to mix social issues, religion, and humor to create a singular tone. She also demonstrates a deft understanding of the day-to-day experiences of a generation and social class of French women who are rarely given the opportunity to be this free on screen; rather than wallowing in frustration, Shana and her friends do what they must to survive and thrive. Shana’s experiences may not be universal, but through her irrepressible energy and sense of humor, it is easy to identify with her personal and existential struggles, and her attempts to conquer the realities of adulthood.