Ninon Vallin and the quiet ghosts of Les berceaux

Is it worth your time?

If you have a soft spot for old-school French cinema and don't mind something that feels like a fading photograph, then yes. This is for the patient viewer who likes things quiet. If you need a plot that moves, or if you’re allergic to anything filmed before the invention of color, you’ll probably want to skip this.

Watching Ninon Vallin here is a bit like watching someone talk to a ghost. She carries the whole weight of the thing on her shoulders, and she does it without needing to scream or cry.

The rhythm of the tide

The camera work has this strange, rocking motion. It reminded me a bit of the rhythmic, almost hypnotic flow you see in films like Rain. Everything feels damp and heavy with nostalgia.

There is a specific shot of the cradles that caught my eye. They look almost too still. It’s the kind of detail that makes you wonder if the set was actually cold during filming. You can practically feel the draft coming off the screen.

I found myself distracted by the way the light hits her face. It isn't over-lit like a lot of studio stuff from the era. It feels… intimate. Maybe even a little bit invasive? Like you shouldn't be looking at her while she’s thinking about whatever she’s thinking about.

It’s not perfect. The pacing is a bit weird, honestly. It starts and stops in ways that don't always make sense if you’re looking for a logical progression. But then again, memories aren't logical, right? They just sort of happen to you.

Compared to the manic energy of something like Duck Soup, this feels like an entirely different planet. It’s quiet. It’s lonely. It stays with you for about ten minutes after the screen goes black, which is honestly a better track record than most movies released last year. 🌊

Don't expect a big ending. It just… sort of drifts away. I kind of liked that it didn't feel the need to tie everything up with a bow. Sometimes, just sitting with the mood is enough.