“Emotionally resonant and beautifully poetic artistic curio.”

We inherit so much from our parents: physical attributes, moral perspectives and certain personality traits, all of which shape us into functioning individuals. However, there are also those elements that are not always ideal that we nonetheless still find influencing us and how we see the world. Generational trauma is a complex issue, and one that has been widely discussed, particularly regarding how the experiences of those who came before us can still manifest in the most unexpected ways, leading to certain challenges that make life more difficult to navigate. Ann Sirot and Raphaël Balboni explore this in detail throughout Diane in the Loop, their strange but captivating psychological drama in which we are introduced to the titular character, Diane. A lonely young woman, she spends her days wandering through life in a series of momentary encounters with different strangers before inevitably moving on, her inability to hold onto any relationship (whether platonic or romantic) leading her to feel isolated from the outside world. Much of this comes as a result of the knowledge that her own mother was the victim of sexual assault, an event that predates her birth but which has still given her an inherent mistrust of men, making any attempt to connect with her on a level deeper than the purely carnal almost futile. A film that explores heavy subject matter in an unorthodox way, Diane in the Loop proves that there is virtue in taking a risk, especially when handling such intimidating and provocative themes.

At a certain point in the 1970s, there emerged a sub-genre of films built around a simple premise: a character (commonly a young woman) becomes the victim of some kind of assault, and after a period of recovery sets out to confront the perpetrators. It’s often referred to by the crude and intentionally provocative label of “rape-and-revenge”, which lays out the premise of these stories quite clearly. Diane in the Loop is not directly related to these films (which often tend to be outdated in their perspectives), but certainly exists in the same conceptual proximity, exploring the inner challenges of a character who carries the weight of knowing that her own mother was a victim, and is desperate to get revenge on the people responsible. It’s not an easy topic to explore, although the directors’ focus has always been on shedding a light on uncomfortable but sadly very common issues, with their two previous films tackling dementia and infertility, respectively. There comes a point in Diane in the Loop where we realise that the message being communicated is not about vengeance but rather the inverse: while it is easy to get trapped in a cycle of violence and anger (the titular “loop” in which Diane finds herself), it takes real strength to actively end the emotional despair that comes with handling trauma, and moving forward is often the better choice. Perhaps slightly predictable as the ultimate conclusion, the meaning beneath the surface of the film is nonetheless very powerful.

The subject of sexual assault and gender-based violence is extremely broad and worryingly relevant, regardless of cultural or geographical context. Sirot and Balboni certainly had their work cut out for them in exploring such an intimidating topic, and we discover that, as powerful as the story may be, what truly ties everything in Diane in the Loop together is their unique execution of these ideas. The film is presented with a quirky, idiosyncratic exterior that almost betrays the gravity of the subject, but which is evidently a deliberate choice to not only investigate the intricate nuances of this story from a different angle, but also to add some interesting layers to the conversation. The directors take a premise usually reserved for gritty, harrowing depictions of characters in psychological freefall, and strip away the violence and anger, replacing it with something more meaningful, where the focus is less on the act of revenge and more on the process of healing. The film flits between irreverent humour and deeply unsettling tension, an unconventional approach that reveals the inner depths beneath this already quite challenging story. It manages to be slightly upbeat and hopeful without trivialising the more distressing aspects of the narrative or being mindlessly idealistic, finding the right balance. Ninon Borsei also deserves credit for taking a character that could’ve been hopelessly cliched in the hands of another actor and transforming her into a complex, captivating protagonist who aligns perfectly with the film’s efforts to be a sympathetic portrait of someone trying to navigate a hostile and difficult world.

Diane in the Loop is an intentionally challenging film that pushes the viewer to reconsider not only the subject matter, but also the ways in which these concepts are discussed artistically. It isn’t an outright comedy, but the directors make an inspired decision to explore the topic of sexual violence utilizing carefully curated moments of humour both to soften the often-intense emotional blows and emphasise the unconventional nature of this character’s journey. It also helps tremendously that the message is clear and direct, which is one of the benefits of having a mostly straightforward approach that uses its rare moments of abstraction very carefully, rather than making the entire film a bundle of idiosyncrasies. Ultimately, the film is a thorough exploration of themes such as gender, identity and generational trauma, approaching these weighty subjects with an equal blend of wit and empathy, never being weighed down by its more eccentric or melancholic elements, which exist in a tonal symbiosis, giving the film a distinct identity. It becomes an effective depiction of carrying the burden of the past, and the relief that comes with letting go – and to achieve this without becoming self-indulgent or tacky is admirable, one of several reasons to appreciate this emotionally resonant and beautifully poetic artistic curio.