Marion

Sometimes, when it comes to casting, there really is only one choice. Joe Weiland and Finn Constantine were inspired to make their short drama about a woman in bull jumping by the remarkable athlete Caroline Noguès-Larbère, but as she was the only woman in the sport, they also ended up casting her. Fortunately she proved talented beyond the sporting arena. It’s difficult to imagine the film succeeding as it does without her commitment to the role.

What is bull jumping? It may not be well known outside southwest France and Tamil Nadu, in both of which it is among the top five most popular spectator sports, but the clue is in the name. Imagine bullfighting but without any physical harm coming to the animals. Performers leap and dance around them in stylised routines, judged on a points-based system. It’s as much about putting on a show to win audience approval as straight-out competition. Needless to say, it is exceptionally physically demanding. It’s not something an actor can learn in six months. It takes years of intensive training just to look the part, never mind to take the lead out there in the arena.

Alongside the leading performer there are supporters, lurking at the edges, ready to leap in and distract the bull if something goes wrong. It’s this that Noguès-Larbère’s character, the titular Marion, is doing with her troupe at the stage when we first encounter her, but she has been begging for the chance to take on an animal directly. When this is approved, her teammates are visibly uneasy. They have that way of going quiet when she walks into a room that makes it clear they’ve been talking about her. They’re also pretty bitchy to her face. Curiously, when the rest have left, one of the most obnoxious of them sticks around to assist her with her costume. Is he flirting? Is he actually impressed by her? How might any one of them behave when he feels free to be himself, without other men to impress?

At least one sends a different message. There’s a telling moment when she’s standing behind the barrier at the edge of the arena and he comes up behind her, putting his arm around her in that pseudo-friendly way that certain men do to signal possession or avail themselves of a groping opportunity whilst pretending they’re just being friendly. Marion pulls away and steps into the arena. In the absence of an ursine option, she’s choosing the bull.

Along with unwanted attention, there are other difficulties she faces because of her sex, the most notable among these being having her young daughter dropped on her on her big night, leaving her with no idea how to handle the situation. Does she have a moral duty to put her child first? Is that more pressing on her than on the kid’s father? How does motherhood affect her right to risk her life in the arena? What might it mean for the girl, a delicate little thing in a pink cardigan, to know what her mother is doing?

The film opens with a prayer: “Protect us from things seen and not seen.” Shooting on film, using live footage of a bull jumping event, even the directors didn’t know how it would end. Nothing is quite as expected. With Best Short Film nominations from Venice, Toronto and the BAFTAs, however, Marion certainly made an impression.

Reviewed on: 25 May 2025