Odette (1935): A Slow Burn for the Patient Viewer

Is it worth your time?

If you like your movies to feel like a dusty, velvet-lined theater experience from ninety years ago, you might find something to love here. It’s definitely not for the popcorn-crunching crowd who needs a chase scene every ten minutes. If you’re the type who enjoys Miracle of the Wolves or just likes staring at 1930s interiors, you’ll get it. If you need pacing that feels like it exists in this century, steer clear.

Francesca Bertini is the whole show, really. She has this way of holding a look that feels like it lasts for three days straight. Sometimes it’s captivating, other times I found myself checking my coffee mug just to see if it needed a refill. ☕

The dialogue is thick. It feels like every character is constantly reciting a monologue they practiced in the mirror for an hour before the scene started. It isn't exactly naturalistic, but there’s a certain rhythm to it if you stop fighting the slow tempo.

Small observations from the dark

• The lighting in the second act is surprisingly moody. Someone clearly spent way too long fiddling with the shadows in the corner of that study.
• There’s a coat rack that appears in three different scenes. It’s almost a character itself at this point.
• The transition between the indoor sets and the few exterior shots is… well, let's just say you can tell exactly where the studio floor ends.

It reminds me a bit of the stuffy tension in Compartiment de dames seules, just without the comedic relief. It feels like a movie trying to keep a secret that nobody really asked to hear.

I couldn't help but notice the sound mix. Every footstep echoes like the actors are walking on a hollow wooden box. It’s endearing in a weird way, like the movie is trying to announce its own artificiality. Don't get me wrong, it’s not bad, just very 1935.

Is the story great? Not really. It’s one of those melodramas where you know exactly where the heartbreak is coming from before the character even opens their mouth. Still, there’s a quietness to it that’s hard to find these days. It doesn't scream for your attention; it just sits there and waits for you to care.

If you’re feeling nostalgic for a time when film acting was mostly about grand gestures and heavy eyebrows, put it on. Just maybe don't watch it while you're trying to fold laundry. You’ll miss the tiny shifts in the room that actually make the movie work.