“Both a fascinating historical drama and an entrancing artistic curio.”

What is a life if not something that exists between a series of quiet reflections within ourselves and the stories we choose to tell others? For as long as we’ve been sentient, we’ve been intent on trying to condense the essence of life into singular narratives, simple and cohesive streams of events in which we feverishly search for meaning. The reality is that life is entirely unpredictable, and the pursuit of some understanding of our intended purpose tends to be a futile exercise. Yet, we persist in trying to comprehend it – and on occasion, someone manages to say something new, as is the case with L’Âge d’Or, a film directed by Bérenger Thouin in his feature-length debut. The film follows Jeanne, who was born towards the beginning of the previous century in a small town somewhere in pastoral France, the daughter of the local butcher. Growing up, she had aspirations of greatness, with the idea of becoming a countess being particularly appealing. The combination of gumption, confidence and sheer luck leads her to ascend to this coveted position, but even having achieved what she had craved for so long, she realises that there is much more to life than the title that appears before one’s name. A film that takes a simple premise and turns it into something tender, poignant and quietly complex,  L’Âge d’Or is a fascinating work, a sincere but ambitious attempt to explore themes much larger than any film could possibly contain.

We’ve seen countless instances of stories that revolve around a very common trope: someone born into humble circumstances aspires to become rich and powerful, and through their hard work (and perhaps a bit of creativity) ends up achieving their desires, only to realise that it’s a hollow existence, void of as much joy as they expected. Thouin is not doing all that much differently with L’Âge d’Or, but rather than being derivative and clichéd, it embraces this predictable structure in very interesting ways. This is a story about someone who learns about life through pursuing her innermost desires, discovering that what she craved was not the wealth or influence that comes with being a part of the upper class, but rather the ability to be seen as someone notable, to live a life without struggle and where she can be truly open with herself and those around her. The film spans the 20^th century, most of it being set between the two World Wars and an epilogue taking place several decades later, which underlines the fact that this film is as much about Jeanne, a fictional character who could represent any number of people, as it is the century as a whole. It explores, in vivid detail, the inner architecture of the protagonist’s mind as she makes her way through a rapidly changing world, which becomes as intriguing a subject as the socio-cultural commentary that guides the film and makes it so extraordinarily compelling.

L’Âge d’Or truly lives up to its title, since not only is it set within the proverbial Gilded Age of the early 20^th century, it also takes the form of a film produced during the golden age of classical cinema. Thouin is as motivated by the thematic elements as he is by the structural and visual cues that are often overlooked in this particular kind of period drama, the director realising that it is not enough to just recreate the past through lavish costumes and gorgeous production design, but also through the intricate details that tend to be neglected. Credit must be given to Martin Roux, whose cinematography is vital in bringing this period to the screen – several compositions throughout the film feel like photographs from over a hundred years ago, vividly coming to life, immersing the viewer in an extraordinary sensory experience. The vintage aesthetic is not merely supplementary to the plot but rather guides it in many ways, since the film is able to develop a quiet playfulness through the slight subversion of period drama tropes, making it stand out in an era where these stories tend to feel common and not particularly exciting. It’s a beautifully constructed film that pays close attention to even the most inconsequential details, interwoven with a story told as a series of intricate moments that move towards a deeper message, which is ultimately left up to the viewer to interpret in their own way.

Nestled right at the heart of L’Âge d’Or is Souheila Yacoub, whose performance as Jeanne is astonishing. Considering she has done some truly stellar work over the past decade, it is no surprise that she’d be able to not only meet the expectations of this role, but exceed them. The part of a woman who rises from a butcher’s daughter to a member of the nobility, enduring a multitude of joys and sorrows along the way, while also processing her own internal quandaries with her identity and existential angst, would be appealing to any actor, even if not done with quite as much precision as we see here. The film is designed to highlight Yacoub’s unique talents, while also pushing her further than she has gone before – it’s essentially a two-hour showcase of her magnetic screen presence, in which she runs the gamut of emotions and introduces us to previously unseen layers that only further prove her ascent as one of Europe’s most intriguing actors. She commands the screen without ever demanding our attention, implicitly understanding that authenticity is found in the most subtle moments, playing into the inherently quiet aspects of the story and building a strong character in the process. This is will probably be one of Yacoub’s defining performances, with her sincere attention to bringing this fascinating character to life giving further proof of her skills and willingness to handle very intimidating material.

At a glance, L’Âge d’Or appears quite conventional, even slightly predictable – but we quickly recognize that as just a misguided first impression, since once the initial expectations have been met, it is able to expand into something far more intriguing. This film takes a simple premise about the pursuit of wealth and influence, and turns it into a character study which is both introspective and dreamlike, becoming a deeply moving examination of memory and identity reflected against the concurrent developments of the 20^th century, which acts as the stage for many of its most interesting moments. Through its vintage aesthetic, designed to emulate the past in a way that feels like we have opened a dust-covered chest of photographs and letters previously unseen for decades, the film takes the form of a classical humanist epic, oscillating between grandiose and intimate, ultimately finding the perfect balance between the two. It is a film that makes good use of implication as a narrative tool, choosing to focus on atmosphere more than outright announcing its intentions. Most appropriately described as both a fascinating historical drama and an entrancing artistic curio, L’Âge d’Or functions as a portrait of someone searching for meaning at a time when luxury was the priority for most, using this as the foundation for a visually striking and deeply moving drama that truly feels like a complex remnant of the past.