15/05/2025 - CANNES 2025: Set in 1900 in a tiny, very isolated mountain hamlet in the middle of winter, Louise Hémon's first feature film is highly original and atmospheric

“I saw you this morning in the mountains, but I was supposed to meet you tonight in the sea.” Adapted locally and told by an old woman by the fire in Occitan dialect, in the heart of a deep Alpine winter night and at the exact turn of the 19th and 20th centuries, the mythical tale of the Samarkand rendezvous, that inescapable encounter with Death that there's no point in running away from, is surely not placed by chance in Louise Hémon's The Girl in the Snow [+see also:
interview: Louise Hémon
film profile], unveiled at the Directors' Fortnight (part of the 78th Cannes Film Festival). “Time passes differently for everyone”, and in her first feature film, the filmmaker demonstrates this in an intriguing way, as nature and spirit, superstition and education collide amid unchanging snow-capped peaks and avalanche threats.

Based on the “fish out of water” principle, the plot (a screenplay written by the director with Anaïs Tellenne, in collaboration with Maxence Stamatiadis) sees a young school teacher called Aimée (Galatéa Bellugi) arrive in a tiny hamlet in the upper Vénéon valley by the light of lanterns and in a freezing storm. Reading Descartes and driven by her faith in the emancipatory virtues of republican education and scientific progress, she moves into a very rustic chalet (with cows inside) and is given the task of teaching (in French) four children living in three houses below, home to only a handful of inhabitants. The mothers work as domestic servants in the valley during the winter, while others have left for warmer climate in Algeria and California (“everyone thinks it's better there, but we don't know, no one has ever come back”).

Alphabet, planisphere, writing with a pen (“now history is here and you can never forget it”), hygiene (“one weapon: the bath, once a month”): Aimée passes on her knowledge, but also sometimes comes up against local beliefs (“you're going to make them sick, the crust on the head protects the brain”, “if you freeze the story, it will die”, “you have to leave the window open for the dead man's soul to escape”). However, as the days go by, she is also introduced to the demands and rituals of a harsh existence (coffins on roofs out of reach of the animals until spring arrives so that the earth can be dug up, stories told in the evening, celebrations with dances, masks and “gouchettes”, bread soaked in marc (spirit), lit by candlelight and swallowed still burning). Then there's the fever of subterranean desire and two young men her own age (Samuel Kircher and Matthieu Lucci). And death on the prowl...

Filmed with an almost documentary-like intensity and proximity in an imposing snowy setting and highly visual topography, The Girl in the Snow is an original work with a very strong atmosphere, thanks in particular to cinematographer Marine Atlan's Bergman-esque work on darkness and Émile Sornin's haunting music (which includes ondes Martenot, a drone box, flute and percussion). An atmosphere of first-rate strangeness that distinguishes a director who still has room for improvement, but who has a truly distinctive style.

The Girl in the Snow was produced by Take Shelter and co-produced by Arte France Cinéma. Kinology handles international sales.

(Translated from French)