Someone's Daughter

Bluesky

Without a justice system based on observable evidence, logic and reason, the world would be plunged into chaos; but even if we set aside cases of corruption, that system has shortcomings. It’s particularly bad at addressing situations in which only two people were present, with no witnesses, as in most cases of alleged rape. If we hold to the principle that everybody deserves equal treatment before the law, then everyone facing accusations should have a lawyer, but the ability of lawyers varies, some attract more jury sympathy than others, and inevitably, outcomes can be skewed. Wiebke von Carolsfeld’s Fantasia 2026 contribution sees a defence lawyer’s certainty gradually erode when she is plunged into circumstances where logic is worth relatively little and instinct takes over.

The set-up is simple, and quickly executed. Over a decade after she successfully defended Paul (François Arnaud) against a rape charge, Sam (Pascale Bussières) is kidnapped by the accuser’s father and driven out into the Canadian wilderness. Dumped on an uninhabited, thickly forested island, she finds her way to a wooden shack where Paul is lying semi-conscious on the floor. Once recovered from the sedatives they have both been given, they look around but can find no food. He observes that she no longer wears a wedding ring: nobody will be looking for either of them. If they are to survive, they will have to escape and get back to civilisation together.

Onto this simple idea, von Carolsfeld grafts layer upon layer of character-based complexity. Both these individuals are intelligent, brave and resourceful. We can observe this early on when they come up with different but equally practical plans for trying to find help – in most wilderness films, even large groups of characters struggle to find one. They both understand from the outset that their chances will be better if they work together, but from there their psychological maps diverge. Paul tries to hide his fear because he admires Sam and wants her approval, and perhaps also because he feels bound by societal expectations of masculinity. Sam, on the other hand, strives from the outset to be in control because she realises that her safety could depend on it. Does she think he’s a rapist? Perhaps, perhaps not – but she has a level of guardedness that most women will recognise, simply because he’s a man.

Naturally, no performance of confidence is going to be flawless. The balance of power tips back and forth between the two over the course of the film, as they encounter different challenges and try to cope with exhaustion, pain and hunger. A bond forms between them which allows for a degree of relaxation and mutual support, but that underlying tension never goes away. Paul, who experiences moments of instability and panic, is focused on returning to a life he enjoys. Sam just wants to survive.

Charismatic yet nuanced performances from both leads keep the film in balance, and though most of the dialogue is simply conversational, the subtext goes deep. There are also various natural hazards exacerbating the situation. The ending is beautifully handled, with a small shift of emphasis in the final scene which reminds us what normal looks like and how easy it is for anyone to shift into skewed ways of thinking. Well paced and open to possibility throughout, this is an impressive piece of work.

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