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5.9/10
Senior Film Conservator
A definitive 5.9/10 rating for a film that redefined the boundaries of cult cinema. Ariane, jeune fille russe remains a cornerstone of transgressive art.
Look, if you have a soft spot for 1930s European cinema and don't mind a story that moves at the speed of a gentle stroll, you might dig this. It’s a bit of a relic, but a charming one. If you’re looking for high-octane thrills or anything that resembles a modern pace, you’re going to be bored to tears within twenty minutes.
Honestly, the whole thing feels like it’s being told to you by an elderly relative who remembers the era a bit too fondly. It’s sweet, sure, but it’s got that specific stiff-collared energy that makes it hard to connect with sometimes. Maria Fromet is doing a lot of heavy lifting here just with her eyes, and you can tell she’s trying to ground the whole thing.
We’ve seen this trope a million times since, but back then, it felt different. Victor Francen carries himself with that weary, "I’ve seen it all" vibe that works well for a guy playing someone twice his costar’s age. The way he looks at her—it’s not exactly romantic, it’s more like he’s watching a storm roll in that he knows he shouldn't stand in.
There’s a specific scene near the middle where they’re just standing in a room, and the silence is so heavy you could cut it with a knife. Maybe it went on for ten seconds too long? It felt like the director was daring us to look away. I didn't.
It’s not as gritty or socially focused as something like Mutter Krausens Fahrt ins Glück, which feels like a total fever dream compared to this. This is much more contained, much more domestic. It’s almost too polite.
It’s fine. It’s not going to change your life, and it’s certainly not the most daring thing I’ve watched this month, but it has a pulse. Sometimes that’s enough. 🎞️