“A life-affirming, heartfelt testament to the importance of simply allowing life to take its course.”

A woman sits across from her young son, supervised by two case workers. She is surprised when he mentions that his father bought him a cellphone, and upon asking for his number, she is told that he has been instructed not to just give it out. This is sharply contrasted with an earlier scene, where the same character is sitting at an event for her most recent book, and is approached by another young woman, who asks her to sign the book with “anything”, to which our protagonist boldly writes her own phone number. These two scenes are both core moments in Love Me Tender, the intriguing second feature by Anna Cazenave Cambet, which follows Clémence, a woman who has been forced to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders – she is in the process of divorcing her husband after realising that her sexuality is more fluid than she initially expected, and as a result struggles to navigate the daunting legal process relating to their son, who has been placed in the custody of his father, as she is deemed to be too irresponsible and unstable to support a child. Amidst all of this, she has recently started to explore her identity, leading to a series of near-anonymous encounters with different women, all of whom seem to be initially attracted to the enigmatic Clémence, but eventually grow weary of her inability to commit. Filled with compelling moments and driven by a sense of simplicity, Love Me Tender is an effective addition to the recent canon of socially charged, character-based dramas designed to explore the trials and tribulations of ordinary people navigating a hostile world.

While it isn’t a particularly complex film in terms of narrative, Love Me Tender does have quite a few layers that can be difficult to penetrate at first, primarily because it is a character study about a woman handling many different facets of her identity. The film is structured like a novel, divided into segments that act as chapters in the life of Clémence, following the various obstacles she faces as she attempts to move forward towards an uncertain future. Crafting this story as a series of episodic moments in her life is a reliable method to ensure that the film is covering a significant amount of time, which is particularly important considering Love Me Tender is essentially built around a character undergoing enormous changes as her life progresses. Her sporadic narration provides us with keen insights into the mind of someone whose entire life seems to be in flux, particularly since she is forced to find the balance between the different roles she plays in her personal and professional life, juggling her responsibilities as a mother to a child who is growing steadily distant from her, and her growing desire to explore her sexual identity, which proves to be both exciting and daunting. The separate aspects of her identity gradually begin to overlap, which is where everything becomes more confusing, since the previously well-defined boundaries between them start to blur, forming the foundation for a challenging glimpse into her changing psychological and emotional state.

To understand precisely how the film explores these themes, we look toward the very core of Love Me Tender, which is where we find Vicky Krieps, who delivers another hauntingly beautiful performance. The film was clearly designed as a vehicle for her skills, and she’s found a decent niche in these smaller, more intimate dramas that set out to explore the inner machinations of the minds of complex people as they make their way through various challenging situations. Her performance is very strong, mostly since she is not straining to convince us to feel sympathy for this character – Clémence is not an easy individual to understand, and it can be an ordeal to decipher her reasons for certain decisions. Yet, Krieps is never anything less than convincing in the part, handling the nuances of this character with a thorough commitment to every word, facial expression and gesture, each detail being integral to understanding the complexities of this film. With such a strong, heartfelt performance at its centre, Love Me Tender manages to avoid having to rely on heavy-handed emotions, focusing instead on the smaller and quieter moments, which tend to be the most devastating and impactful, particularly when we aren’t able to anticipate the emotional blows some of them may deliver. Cambet handles these intimidating themes with such tact, working closely with Krieps (as well as the supporting cast, which consists of some very strong, but sadly quite brief, performances from a solid group of actors) to create this stunning portrait of a complex woman.

Love Me Tender is a film that runs slightly too long (there are a couple of scenes that could have been substantially trimmed down or left out entirely, as they contribute more to the atmosphere than to the plot), and it can occasionally feel confined by its didactic structure. However, it does contain many striking moments that more than compensate for some of its conventional components, with the combination of different themes leaving an indelible impression. Arguably, Krieps’ performance is the primary aspect that drives this film and it is well worth seeking out solely to see the exceptional work she is doing, particularly since she has already established herself as a versatile and compelling screen presence, something that this film emphasizes throughout, giving her the opportunity to play another fascinating character. As a result, we find that the film becomes a poignant and resonant examination of desire, identity and the search for meaning in times when nothing seems to make much sense. The combination of yearning for a sense of normalcy and the demonstration of her inherent desires makes for a very moving depiction of the passage of time, turning Love Me Tender from a relatively rote social realist drama into a life-affirming, heartfelt testament to the importance of simply allowing life to take its course, and following that unpredictable path wherever it may lead.