In the aftermath of a disturbing school incident, a mother takes her
troubled daughters to rural Ireland.
Review by
Eric Hillis
Directed by: Ariane Labed
Starring: Pascale Kann, Mia Tharia, Rakhee Thakrar, Rachel Benaissa, Barry John Kinsella
For her directorial debut, September Says, the French actress Ariane Labed has adapted a novel by author
Daisy Johnson, but cinephiles won't fail to note Labed's cinematic
influences. In its tale of troubled teenage sisters, it's a cousin of Sofia
Coppola's The Virgin Suicides and Agnieszka Smoczynska's
The Silent Twins. But there's a far more explicit influence from the horror genre that I
can't name as it would entirely change how you view Labed's film. If you're
familiar with the movie in question, September Says may begin
to feel like a derivative knockoff at a certain point, but while the
narrative may not boast much in the way of originality, Labed has proven she
can craft a moody atmosphere if not an entirely successful story.
The influence of the horror genre is referenced immediately with a prologue
in which two young girls are dressed like the twins from
The Shining and photographed by some offscreen shutterbug.
Cutting to the present day we find said girls are now teenage sisters
September (Pascale Kann) and July (Mia Tharia), and the
photographer is their mother, Sheela (Rakhee Thakrar). Both girls are
products of the same now absent father, but the slightly older September
resembles her white father while July has inherited her mother's South Asian
features.
September exerts a domineering control over her younger sister, which
ranges from beckoning her with a whistle as though she were a sheepdog to
ordering when and what she can eat. September also protects her sister at
school from ceaseless bullying (in a win for representation, one of the
worst bullies is a girl in a wheelchair), which often leads to physical
altercations. In the aftermath of one such incident, whose outcome is left
ambiguous, Sheela takes her daughters out of school (or more likely they
were suspended) and the three settle into a house in rural Ireland once
occupied by Sheela's in-laws.
Once there Sheela begins to avoid her girls, claiming she needs some time
and space to process the trouble they've caused, but we get the impression
she is as intimidated by September as is the long-suffering July. When
September orders July to stop eating at the dinner table, Sheela acts
oblivious to such behaviour. When Sheela eventually asks September why she
is the way she is, she's met with a curt response of "Maybe I'm like my
father," a notion that seems to terrify Sheela. Left to their own devices as
their mother avoids their presence, the unsettling bond between September
and July grows increasingly disturbing as September pushes the limits of her
sister's obedience.
The relationship between September and July never feels as natural as that
of the titular teens of The Silent Twins. That movie made us feel like we were catching up with two girls who had
been living like this for years before the camera rolled, whereas the
dynamic between September and July is a little too forced and theatrical.
This is largely down to Labed's directorial style, which carries the
influence of her time spent as one of the leading stars of the Greek Weird Wave movement. The detached absurdism here is reminiscent of the early films
of Yorgos Lanthimos (to whom Labed has been married since 2013), but those
films were set in their own offbeat milieu whereas
September Says plays out in our own world. The style and
setting particularly clash whenever outsiders enter the bubble of the three
odd protagonists - some supporting characters react in a way that simply
isn't believable, while certain scenes are staged awkwardly in order to
later pay off the climactic twist. A sex scene overlaid with Sheela's inner
monologue is wildly out of place, more at home in a Bridget Jones sequel
than a dark psychological thriller.
Another movie that feels like an influence on Labed's debut is the Austrian
thriller Goodnight Mommy, and September Says works best when it follows that film's
lead of focussing on its central trio of a parent and her troubled
offspring. There's a fascinating dynamic between Sheela and her girls, and
Labed's is a rare film that highlights something we often see in real life,
a parent who loves a child of whom they're also terrified. Sheela is the
sort of mother who suspects their kid is going to turn into a school shooter
some day but keeps her head down and hopes it's just a phase. Thakrar,
Tharia and Kann are all in tune with one another, which makes it a shame
that Labed's direction seems so often unsure of itself.
The second-hand twist will likely prove annoying for many viewers (unless
this is the first movie you've watched in 30 years), and many of its
narrative choices are misjudged, but in its best moments
September Says draws us into its unnerving little world via
three captivating performances and Labed's ability to keep us on edge, at
least until we suss the derivative direction in which her film is taking us.
Labed's film is a flawed debut, but one that suggests more satisfying work
to come, and in Tharia and Kann she may have discovered two future stars of
British cinema.
September Says is in UK/ROI
cinemas from February 21st.
