Navigating the world is often difficult when you feel a profound sense of isolation and detachment from the rest of society. For many women, you can only be considered successful if you adhere to very traditional elements of femininity, whether it is taking on a career that is inherently more nurturing, or becoming a mother, which many consider to be the cornerstone of womanhood, something that has become a point of extreme contention in the contemporary world, as we debate issues around gender and the dynamics of sexual identity in a rapidly changing social and cultural landscape. These ideas are the foundation for Other People’s Children (French: Les enfants des autres), the ambitious film written and directed by Rebecca Zlotowski, who spends some time in her fifth directorial outing exploring the life of a woman who may still feel young at heart, especially since she surrounds herself with younger people by virtue of her job as a schoolteacher, but whose physical ageing has made her innermost desire to become a mother increasingly unlikely, with the reality being that the window in which she can feasibly fall pregnant is shrinking every day, which causes her to fall into something of an existential crisis, especially when she begins to take on a more maternal role in the life of her partner’s child, becoming a surrogate mother, which serves to be her only relief from the constant dread of realizing that she may not be able to experience the pleasures of parenthood herself. Other People’s Children is a remarkable film – a funny, insightful and very human story that looks deep into the heart of a few characters that may not always be likeable, but who are realistic in a way that we don’t often encounter in many very potent dramas – and with a beautiful sense of direction, stunning performances and a story that plumbs the emotional depths of some very strong themes, it manages to be a profoundly moving and undeniably enthralling experience, the kind that often takes us by surprise by stirring dormant emotions when we least expect it to happen, an artistic technique the director frequently utilizes.

Other People’s Children is a film that feels like it is being developed through the process of being made – many of the ideas that drive the story appear to gain nuance and complexity through the gradual construction of the film, which would normally be a negative criticism (since a film should normally have some idea of the themes it is aiming to explore at the outset), but works incredibly well here, feeling very much deliberate and meaningful in a way that we don’t often encounter in films such as these. It is very clearly a film that is borne from a very personal place, and while it’s not autobiographical in the sense of the events and actions of these characters being direct reflections of what the director experienced, it is a work that draws on Zlotowski’s complex past, showing her experiences as someone who questions her place in the world, and who struggles with the concept of motherhood, filtered through a narrative focused on her relationship with an older man, which she has cited as being inspired loosely by her relationship with Jacques Audiard, whose presence in this film is both spectral and impactful, especially in how Zlotowski uses her experiences with him to propel this narrative. It is a very complex film in terms of tone, which is something that ultimately works in its favour – it is the most bittersweet of dramas, and the most gentle of comedies – a contradiction in theory, but something that works perfectly well in practice, especially when dealing with something as challenging as an individual searching for meaning in a world that has supposedly become too chaotic, at least from her perspective. Zlotowski is not a greenhorn, and has been working for years to produce solid, meaningful films that are drawn from a place of profound experience, and whether directly influenced by her life, or artistic manifestations of her internal psychological quandaries, she constantly pushes boundaries here that many may not even know existed, while still delivering what appears to be a very simple and evocative lighthearted drama on the surface – but it’s those details that lurk beneath that are most fascinating, and the elements she is most actively attempting to explore.

You simply cannot talk about contemporary European cinema without factoring in the work of Virginie Efira, who has risen to be one of the greatest actors working today. It was a long journey, and she made some poor-quality films that were purely projects designed to increase exposure – and her gradual ascent from television host to someone who is actively courted by some of the greatest auteurs of their generation, is nothing short of inspiring. Along the way, she picked up details that have many nearly every one of her performances (even those in poorer films) feel so comforting and complex. She is someone who continuously tests the boundaries of what she can do on screen, and even with a relatively simple character whose does most of her emotion internally, she is able to deliver a gentle but poignant tour-de-force of a performance. It’s not anything that Efira has not done before, and there might even be an argument that this is one of her better performances (which is surprising, considering the wealth of impeccable performances she has given over the course of her career), and it is certainly one of the films in which she is given the necessary space and time to develop a relatively simple character into a three-dimensional, complex human being that is notable for both her impeccable elegance (which is present in nearly everything she has participated in), and the vitally important flaws that define the character and make her so compelling. Rachel is a woman who has an idea of what she wants, but has neither the psychological nor emotional energy to put it into practice, which becomes a challenge after a while, which leads to a lot of the conflict in the film. Efira has never been afraid to play characters with clear shortcomings, since her approach is one that sells them on both their positive and negative traits, which creates much more endearing and thought-provoking relationships with the material.

Efira’s performance in Other People’s Children feeds directly into the theme of motherhood, which is the central propellant of the story, and the aspect on which the entire film is dependent. Here we have a story about someone being confronted by the harsh reality that she is destined to become infertile very soon, meaning that her dream to become a mother has to be put into practice before it is too late, which incites a series of misadventures in her life as she interacts with various characters, some of them wildly enthusiastic about their own experiences with motherhood, others more cynical to what is essentially a lifelong investment in the life of someone, watching them age and becoming fully-functioning all on their own, which can bring both joys and challenges, depending on the angle from which you view it. Motherhood is a difficult topic to discuss, primarily because it is frequently the subject of artistic expression, but yet there are so few works that can effectively and without hesitation lay claim to offering a full and diverse depiction of motherhood without leaving anything else. In fact, such a work is nearly impossible, in much the same way offering a definition of perfection in relation to any kind of parental development. This doesn’t prevent Zlotowski from trying to start conversations that don’t have clear answers – and the result, while filled with unresolvable details, is a spellbinding and very well-constructed drama that balances its tones right, drawing from a combination of gentle humour and soft-hearted drama, two vitally important details that fuel this film and make it such a warm, endearing experience, in spite of the abundance of conflict and complexity that lurks just out of view, patiently waiting for the audience to become aware of its existence, which is a clever approach, and helps not only prevent the spread of heavy-handed emotions, but also offers a suitable degree of suspense, especially since this is not a film that aims to follow a narrative structure that offers answers to all the questions that are asked – and while this may be frustrating for some, it feels like a glorious liberation of convention in the context of this film.

Other People’s Children is a truly delightful film, but it earns such a status through genuine hard work, rather than just being a twee series of moments in the lives of these characters. It tackles some very intimidating subjects surrounding identity and familial connections, which bear a lot of relevance to everyday life (as well as the relationships formed from various connections), while still being surprisingly timeless, which is the element that the director is most interested in exploring. The film is anchored by yet another luminous performance from the incredible Virginie Efira, who is at this point in her career where she is just adding to the growing list of fantastic, auteur-driven films in which she stars, each one a wonderful and worthwhile use of her talents, which seemingly know very few limits, since she continuously pushes the boundaries of what is possible on screen, even in a relatively simple film. It practices the art of blending tone and genre together, becoming a melancholic exploration of motherhood alongside an upbeat and well-crafted comedy about celebrating life, and embracing its unconventional nature. Driven by a unique set of ideas, and fully invested in exploring the different sides of life that it represents, Other People’s Children is an absolute triumph, a work of unimpeachable humanity and sincere, complex creativity, written and directed by someone who possesses such a strong and distinct perspective on life, which she filters into these small, intimate moments that are both enthralling and cathartic, which is not something we would necessarily expect from a film as simple and sedate as this – but like any great story about the human condition, Other People’s Children is filled with surprises, and few are more delightful and the ones we find here.