The debut feature of writer-director Hyun Lee is a slightly scrappy drama set in Sydney’s modelling scene, reportedly made on a $28,000 budget and informed by Lee’s own experiences. Executive produced by Nash Edgerton, who appears in a small role towards the end, French Girls has nary a trace of the glitz, glam and artifice synonymous with the trade; it’s a low-fi and aesthetically austere work, with a messy, rough-edged kind of visual lyricism and a suite of naturalistic performances.
The pared-back nature of the experience extends to its messaging, or lack thereof: this is not a film that views modelling through a probing intellectual framework, or offers much in the way of commentary. Lee has spoken about how she did not seek to “critique models, the fashion industry or even capitalism” and approached the film “as if it were a nature documentary”. That fly-on-the-wall attitude imbues French Girls with extra realism, helping distinguish it from more conventional productions while also creating a sense of emotional detachment.
Mia (Mia Kidis), who works in construction, is approached on the street by a model agent and soon finds herself working for an agency that prides itself on representing models with a “unique and different look”. In one scene, chit-chatting models describe the job as “90% waiting and 10% work”. The film captures something of that experience too, often lingering on the periphery of the modelling world rather than placing us at the centre of the action.
At one point, Mia is asked to model a cloth-like, white garment down a runway and reveal her naked body, if she’s OK with it. In a more conventional film, this might be a major decision for the protagonist – a moral quandary or challenge to overcome. Here, it barely registers as an event: Mia is totally cool with it, and that decision-making moment comes and goes without much emphasis. There’s something refreshing about the film’s refusal to manufacture drama, though some contrived elements occasionally creep in, including a key gun-related incident that feels unconvincingly staged and cribbed from another, less realistic production.
A reflective voiceover from a young woman brings out French Girls at its most contemplative, offering observations threaded throughout the film. “Maybe the French invented fashion, but they also invented the guillotine,” she muses at one point. I like the sometimes wistful, sometimes whimsical tone of these gentle reflections, which add a touch of philosophical curiosity without disrupting the film’s understated approach.
Lee directs her actors towards restrained and minimalist performances; the acting never feels showy or self-conscious. Nobody embodies this more than Kidis, whose lead performance is impressively judged, gently expressive and completely unlaboured. I did, however, feel that her wings have been clipped; I’m curious to see what she might do in a more expressive role with a wider emotional range.
Similarly, I’m curious to see what Lee might do with a larger budget and more resources. The handmade quality of French Girls is central to its modest, lived-in appeal, though it also hints at a film-maker whose ideas and instincts could really flourish with greater scope and freedom. With the film reportedly made for just $28,000, funding bodies and potential backers would be crazy not to give her some real money to play with; there’s a confidence and observational acuity that makes Lee a director worth watching.
French Girls is showing at Melbourne international film festival
