Love Letters

Back in 2013, French parliament passed a law that allowed gay marriage, also putting gay couples on an equal footing with heterosexual ones regarding the right to adopt children. But, as it usually goes with laws, there is a gap between passing a law and actually applying it in practice. Whenever there is some kind of gap, bureaucracy is the first to step in, maybe even to widen rather than bridge it. That is the situation the heroines of Alice Douard’s debut solo feature, Love Letters, have to deal with.

It is 2014, and no-nonsense nurse Nadia (Monia Chokri) is six months pregnant through IVF that, at least at that moment, was still illegal in France. Her wife, DJ/sound engineer Céline (Ella Rumpf) wants to adopt the daughter they are expecting and therefore she has to go through a certain procedure. Along with a substantial lawyer’s bill, the procedure requires her to obtain 15 written testimonies from friends and family members – most of which should not be openly gay people – that she has a desire to be a mother.

In that regard, Céline’s own mother, the always-touring concert pianist Marguerite (Noémie Lvovsky) might be the toughest nut to crack. That does not mean only that she would be hard to track down and to deal with due to her diva attitude, but also that reconnecting with her might reopen Céline’s childhood traumas. On the other hand, Nadia’s Muslim family still has to accept her sexual orientation, marriage to a woman and the fact that she is starting a family with her.

While the couple has to deal with a system completely unused to having a lesbian couple expecting a baby, which sometimes leads to situations that one finds funny and the other frustrating, they also have to prepare for parenthood and what it means in the end. That involves organised pregnancy “classes” and “open doors” visits to hospitals, but also visits from their friends who already have children and observing how parenthood changes their individual psyches and couple dynamics. But the biggest “endurance test” for Céline comes in the form of babysitting duties for her friend’s children, a slightly bratty girl and an infant boy.

There are three major topics Douard juggles in her film. One of them, the lag between the law and the practice in society, might even deserve the film that would have it as the central topic. The second is the topic of the childhood trauma caused by bad parenting that causes doubts of being fit for such a task for the next generation. The third one might be the most plain, even tautological, coming to the conclusion that nobody can ever be properly prepared for being a parent.

The reason it serves pretty well is Douard’s focus on Céline’s perspective and the commendable and compelling acting job that Rumpf does. Knowing her previous work in films such as Julia Ducournau’s Raw (2016), Jacob Lass’ Tiger Girl (2017) or Anna Novion’s Marguerite’s Theorem (2023) that should not come as much of a surprise: she is an actress capable of diving into emotional depths and channelling the everyday neuroses of living under some kind of pressure. Her acting partners complement her. Judging from this year’s Cannes, where Love Letters premiered in Critics' Week, one might say that Chokri sets in a type of role very similar to her part in Love Me Tender, but with more screen time. Lvovsky channels the diva personality, but also some regrets that remain masked and unsaid as Marguerite here.

On the technical level, Jacques Girault’s usually hand-held cinematography keeps the immediacy of associated with that choice, but never slips into “chaos cinema” shakiness. The music of different genres and styles, from piano classical to club electronica, coming from different sources is also incorporated masterfully by the filmmaker, who keeps control all the time.

The only slip-up, except for the slightly missed and unnecessary poetic translation of an already poetic title (Des Preuves d'Amour/Proofs Of Love), is that Douard uses the blunt instrument of narration of an emotional letter to make her point in the end, but it can be also taken as a standard for contemporary festival cinema that rarely goes deep below the surface in portraying phenomena so relatable to many people in the audience. But even though Love Letters is not an exceptional piece of cinema, it is watchable and decent.

Reviewed on: 02 Jun 2025