Mona (Tanya Zabarylo) hasn’t had the easiest life so far. When she was only a child (Olivia Landuyt), her life was shaken after her mother dies in a tragic accident, which she experiences through her bereaved father, Vincent (Tom Vermeir) struggling to come to terms with such an immense loss. However, it’s not too long before their family is given a new start in the form of Marie (Wine Dierickx), a lovely young woman who Vincent starts romantically pursuing, and who eventually marries and has a child with. Mona and her younger brother, Alexander (Cesar Costers) now have the opportunity of growing up with a maternal figure in their lives, which does set them on course to lead ordinary lives. As an adult, Mona has found a particular place in the world – she is a little-known playwright who is on the verge of a meteoric rise to fame, particularly through her work with a highly-experimental theatre group that seems to be a good fit for her. She also starts a relationship herself, with the enigmatic Louis (Valentijn Dhaenens), a semi-famous author who works constantly, only taking breaks for bouts of passionate romance with his new partner, who dotes on his every word, even when it becomes clear that he is not nearly as perfect as she imagined him to be at the beginning of their relationship. Entering into the peak of her adult life, Mona learns a number of harsh lessons – whether it be guiding her younger half-sister, Anne-Sophie (Lucie de Wolf) through life, after Marie makes it very clear that she has nothing but umbrage for the rebellious young woman, or dealing with her father’s incurable illness, which is slowly heading him towards an untimely demise (as well as the pre-trauma that her stepmother asserts on everyone around her) – and while they are challenging for her, as they’d be for anyone, Mona embraces them as just a series of difficult lessons that she has to learn, armed with her tenacity and sometimes misguided optimism that everything will work out in the end, even if the road there isn’t particularly comfortable.

Despite each of us living distinct lives, we’re all united in the fact that we’re on a journey without any known destination, or at least a definitive one – and a perfect encapsulation of the uncertainty that comes with experiencing life is presented in Becoming Mona (Dutch: Kom hier dat ik u kus), a stunning drama that centres on the trials and tribulation of a young woman making her way through life, living each day as it comes towards her, and avoiding making any assumptions as to what the next moment is going to throw at her. Sabine Lubbe Bakker and Niels van Koevorden craft an astounding glimpse into the life of an undeniably ordinary person, which they repurpose to appear as the most rivetting exploring of the human condition. Complex in theory, simple in execution, their tender approach to the smallest idiosyncrasies of our shared existence, which they funnel through a variety of moments in the life of a familiar protagonist (insofar as Mona is defined by her commonness), makes for an incredibly poignant drama that touches on a range of issues – growing up in a fragmented family, dealing with domestic abuse, the inevitability of losing loved ones, and a plethora of other concepts that are going to resonate with any modern viewer in ways that we may not be fully prepared for. A slow-burning, elegant drama with a great deal of heart and an even more interesting sense of humour at certain moments (which sharply contrasts with the melancholic tone that persists throughout), Becoming Mona is an essential work, and one of the year’s more interesting forays into having a spirited conversation about something as simple as the small challenges that we regularly face – it’s a film that takes place in the margins, where the directors are putting together a compelling portrait of the life of a young woman, which in turn becomes a wide-ranging manifesto on the value of tenacity, and the importance of holding on for just another day, which is sometimes quite difficult, especially when every prospect for improvement seems far more grim than we’d hope – nevertheless, we press on with undying optimism and the relentless hope that everything will make sense in the end.

As a character-driven drama, Becoming Mona centres itself on exploring the life of the titular protagonist, who undergoes quite a change over the course of the film. We’re first introduced to her as she sits in a darkened room, sent there by her soon-to-be deceased mother, for misbehaving – this sets the tone for the entire film, as we see Mona navigate life as an unintentional rebel. She is not necessarily rambunctious or willingly averse to rules, but rather someone who doesn’t allow herself to be defined by the expectations of others, while still trying to remain as neutral as she possibly can – rules have never quite fit her specific path in life. It’s an extraordinarily well-composed piece of drama, with Mona being portrayed as a very realistic young woman who may be well on her way to settling into her adult life, but secretly harbours so much insecurity and uncertainty, she isn’t quite sure of where her path is going to take her next. Tanya Zabarylo gives a revelatory performance, bringing Mona to life with a steady but fragile disposition, where a life of hard lessons has taught her to stand strong, regardless of how difficult the situation is, and how easy it would be to just surrender to the shattering emotions that are brewing within her. There’s a tempest in Zabarylo’s performance, which is used well, never becoming the focal point of the story, nor a particularly important plot device, but rather a well-placed set of qualities that contribute to constructing her as a nuanced – and ultimately undoubtedly realistic – young woman. Characterization is absolutely key to a film like Becoming Mona, and it simply would not have been nearly as effective had attention not be placed on finding the depth in a character that would otherwise fade into the background in a film without this level of self-awareness, or admiration for the regular folk whose stories are being channelled through Mona’s journey. It’s an exceptionally strong piece of humanistic filmmaking that carries a wealth of meaning within its flawed but inspiring central character.

This is a film composed of two distinct qualities, which are reflected in the title – there’s a starting point, and the destination, which are more proverbial concepts than they are actual physical locations. At the outset, Mona is a young and impressionable girl without any knowledge of life, outside of the awareness we expect from someone who has only just started to become conscious of the world around them – but this is quickly changed when she’s shaken by a change as enormous as the death of her mother. This kick-starts a series of triumphs and tragedies that form her into the version of Mona she “becomes” by the bittersweet conclusion of her story, or rather the moments of it we’re witness to. Lubbe Bakker and van Koevorden certainly do take many of the conventions of the coming-of-age story into account when constructing this film – much like the source material, Mona in Three Acts by Griet Op de Beeck, the film is divided into three distinct chapters (“Mother”, which focuses on her childhood, “Love”, which is centred on her early adulthood and first flirtations with romance, and “Father”, which is the most harrowing segment, centring on her later adult life), they manage to explore three enormously intimidating concepts, with a variety of other themes scattered within, without coming across as inauthentic or heavy-handed, which tends to be an enormous challenge for this sub-genre of film. This isn’t the definitive film about the experience of growing older and maturing as a result of some of life’s harsher lessons – but it is absolutely one of the most moving, since the directors employ a tactic of reducing it to a series of moments, rather than attempting to cover her entire life. The multilayered approach works exceptionally well here, where the enigmatic nature of Mona’s life (and the lives of her family and friends) are presented to us objectively at first, but gradually unravel and manage to be so much more haunting than we’d expect from such a simple premise.

Three moments in Mona’s life are the basis of this film (which emphasis being placed on Christmas, which becomes a recurring theme, accompanied by the melancholic beauty of a simple cover of “Silver Bells”), and while they don’t present a full portrait of her existence, they show her at different points in her life, addressing some daunting challenges and emerging bruised and battered, but still resilient and hopeful for the next day. It’s uplifting and powerful, but still incredibly aware of the context surrounding it, which immediately makes Becoming Mona a masterful work of humane drama. Finding the poetry in everyday life is not a particularly easy achievement, but Bakker and van Koevorden are valiant in their pursuit of the unimpeachable truths that persist throughout our lives. Despite exploring some distressing topics, such as abuse, heartbreak and death, this film is void of the taut hysterics that would normally accompany such topics, instead choosing a more sophisticated path, where the moments that are given the most attention are those that tend to be elided from more traditional films on these matters. Driven by its stark and often unforgiving approach, and propelled by a sense of absolute compassion, Becoming Mona is a staggering work of social realism, delving deep into the psychology of a complex protagonist, and emerging as a triumphant socio-cultural odyssey that invites the viewer to accompany the titular character on her journey, creating a sense of intimacy that facilitates some strong conversations which may not always be pleasant, but are absolutely essential when we look beyond the plot itself, and focus instead on the broader message that is carried by this film. The human experience is something many artists have tried to capture, and while nothing can ever condense every aspect of existence into a single work, films like Becoming Mona do manage to make some bold statements, leaving an indelible impression and provoking thought that will linger in the viewer’s mind long after the haunting moments of the story have left our screens, burrowing into our hearts and leaving a profound sense of sorrowful hope, the kind that can only be conveyed by a film so absolutely assured in its relentless humanity.