Romance comes about in many different ways in film, and for Justine Triet, her approach to representing love on screen is somewhat unconventional, but still thoroughly invigorating. Focused on working women who have to juggle their successful careers with modern feminist issues (including their sexuality, which the director is never afraid to explore, showing desire as something natural and compelling, rather than a subject that should be kept in the shadows). Her masterpiece is undeniably Sibyl, but the film that preceded it was just as fascinating in how it unpacked a variety of themes, keeping with some notable ideas (as well as a few other factors), but still being a highly-original, wonderfully precise comedy that is equal parts romance and psychological satire. Triet, a profoundly gifted storyteller in both the narrative and visual sphere, handcrafted a delightfully interesting film in the form of In Bed with Victoria, which traverses many complex subjects in its endeavour to comment on the plight of modern women in a way that feels authentic, refusing to be heavily dependent on the conventions of the genre that it seems to be openly critiquing. Subversive, with an edge of scathing satire that is built from a strong foundation, and brimming with an energizing honesty that is not particularly common for romantic comedies (which tend to rely far too much on a preconceived set of ideas of what constitutes a serviceable entry into the genre), In Bed with Victoria is a resoundingly entertaining film that has as much heart as it does cutting-edge wit – and when anchored by a strong script which is wonderfully interpreted by the cast, including by a mesmerizing, star-making leading performance, it’s difficult to argue against this film as a wonderfully unique and worthwhile experience for all those interested in something slightly off-kilter, but always entertaining.

On the surface, In Bed with Victoria appears to be a rather conventional film – the story of a young woman who is a successful lawyer by day, and a conflicted amateur existential philosopher with something resembling a sex addiction by night, pondering her place in the world with stark regularity. We’ve seen similar films before, the kind of bold comedy that isn’t afraid of placing very human issues, such as desire, at the centre of its story, and using it as a means through which to channel a number of interesting conversations related to the main character and the variety of people she finds woven into her life. Triet knows how to keep everything very simple – there isn’t much in the way of a clear thesis to the film, with its story being more focused on the interweaving vignettes in the trials and tribulations of the character, focusing on the different facets of her personal and professional life. Whether it’s defending a man in court who is very likely guilty of a ludicrous, avoidable crime, or taking her own legal action against her ex-husband who gleefully writes about her exploits under the guise of thinly-veiled fiction, or raising her family while trying to take care of her own needs as a woman, there is always something very compelling about how the director presents the overlapping challenges presented to the protagonist. Despite having quite a multilayered story that jumps between many of these sub-plots without much preparation, it never comes across as scattershot or muddled. Triet draws everything together with razor-sharp precision, not wasting a single moment in her journey to look beneath the veneer of an ordinary woman, who has been repurposed into a delightfully irreverent protagonist with very human quandaries in this story.

There’s something incredibly naturalistic about this form of filmmaking, where there is certainly a stylish element, albeit one that exists in tandem with the very loose, simple approach to putting together the fragments in the life of a modern woman. Setting the foundation within a recognizable reality, In Bed with Victoria builds itself up to be a fascinating portrait of femininity in the contemporary era, where the concept of a working woman is not something that films can use as a hinge on its own, since we’ve progressed far beyond the concept being a novelty. It forces films like this to look deeper than just a surface-level analysis of the plight of women in the workplace, which gives the audience a chance to see discussions on certain issues on a much more interesting level. In this film, the main character of Victoria Spick is a complex woman who we never quite understand, but not because she is intentionally made to be vague, but rather since she has some interesting quirks that unveil themselves as the film goes on. It’s far from a single-minded perspective on the kind of individual Triet is interesting exploring, with each different aspect of Victoria’s life being presented differently. This is evident in the concurrent court settings, in which she is the advocate in one case, the plaintiff in the other – she’s fashioned as a cutthroat, incredibly effective lawyer in the former, but as a meek, helpless woman in the other, where her legal knowledge and prowess has now suddenly disappeared because she isn’t in the position to defend herself in the way she defends others. Everything in In Bed with Victoria is thoroughly calculated – Triet doesn’t waste a single moment in developing the man different qualities of her protagonist, and the contrast between her personal and professional life is even more compelling, since the film demonstrates that the concept of a “one-size-fits-all” working woman is as ludicrous as it is implausible, which leads to some insightful discussions throughout the film.

In bringing the character of Victoria to life, Triet casts the mesmerizing Virginie Efira, in a role that made incredible use of both her ethereal elegance, and ability to play very authentic characters that fit into any situation. Efira is almost chameleonic in handling the challenges thrown at her with this role – Victoria is a complex character, and needed the actress to juggle many different personality quirks, some of which had to be put aside in order to allow for the other qualities to take hold. It’s an intricate portrait of a unique character, who embodies the essence of modern life without any trace of cliche or unnecessary convolution, which is a widespread problem in a lot of similarly-themed films. Efira is such a charismatic performer, and she turns in a committed portrayal of a woman on the verge of falling apart, only keeping herself together by virtue of her refusal to surrender to expectations. It’s difficult to imagine many other actresses being able to play the character with this blend of rugged honesty and deep sophistication, but every moment Efira is on screen, we are entirely captivated, so much that decent performances from the likes of Melvil Poupaud and Vincent Lacoste (both of whom are quite good, albeit overshadowed), who go almost entirely unnoticed. We’re far more committed to seeing how Efira oscillates between many different personas, all of them united under the complex tapestry that is known as Victoria Spick, a profoundly modern woman who is struggling to find her place in a world that simply no longer makes much sense, at least not in her perspective, which we can say is quite reliable, since (as we see throughout the film), she is put through the wringer on countless occasions, and undoubtedly learned a few things about life along the way.

It’s not too difficult to become invested in the life and times of Victoria, since what we’re given is delightfully entertaining in a way that is both wickedly fun, but not without its complexities. Triet is a major talent, and while her three feature films to date may be tonally and thematically similar to an extent, there is a distinct quality to In Bed with Victoria that feels very different, a kind of manifesto on feminine issues that is both resounding and insightful, giving us a fascinating glimpse into the progress Triet and her cohorts believe France has made (or more accurately, have yet to make). It’s certainly difficult to pinpoint exactly what it is that makes this film so special – ultimately, it is (on the surface at least), a buoyant French comedy, so there is an immediate expectation of quality built into it, especially with the pedigree of the creative people involved. There is something about this brand of European humour that is always refreshing, even when the quality of the work may not match the promising nature of the premise – and mercifully, In Bed with Victoria succeeds wholeheartedly in every area in which it endeavours to work. Yet, when you look deeper and actually start noticing some of the more challenging ideas that the film provokes, there is charm that comes with it that we don’t always see reflected with such keen accuracy. Triet continues to impress, and considering she followed this film with the astonishing Sibyl a few years later is only proof that she’s well on her way to becoming one of the most exciting filmmakers working in European cinema today – and her combination of devil-may-care satire and meaningful, heartfelt approach to crafting a cynical but profound romantic comedy is enough to justify anything she chooses to do going forward.