Petite chérie

With Petite chérie, Anne Villacèque has realised one of the strongest French débuts of the year. Every shot in the film is perfectly composed and every nuance in behaviour and emotion is meticulously observed. The tragedy of the story is slightly lightened by a subtle comic undertone, but the sense of doom remains. Villacèque’s fascination for the minor inconveniences of life within a family is tangible in every scene and her measured play with the expectations of the viewer remains surprising right to the end.Sybille (30) still lives with her parents in a very boring outer suburb. She is not beautiful, still a virgin and so shy that, even in the privacy of her own bedroom, she first puts her nightdress on before taking off her underwear. During the endless bus journeys between home and work, a routine office job, she reads cheap romantic fiction. When one day over the edge of her novel, she stares straight into the eyes of the handsome Victor, her romantic fantasies would appear to come true. Most surprisingly, he answers her pleading look and in no time he has moved in with her and her parents. Victor acts as if he goes to work every morning, but in reality he doesn’t do a thing. Sybille’s parents mollycoddle him, glad as they are with the happiness he has brought their daughter. But neither a new car, new bedroom or new clothes are good enough. Victor is not to be satisfied.