07/04/2026 - David Roux dissects the alienated position of a woman, brilliantly portrayed by Mélanie Thierry, within a bourgeois family that is deeply dysfunctional beneath the surface

“It was this house, his family - they buried me alive and I let myself be swallowed up.” Seeking to free oneself from the conformist rules dictated by a male-dominated world – rules to which one has silently submitted for years – is no easy feat. It requires overcoming the weight of denial and the fear of the unknown, as well as drawing on deep-seated resources in order to look at oneself lucidly in the mirror and face the gaze of others. It is this hazy, floating realm, full of muffled tugs and raw contradictions, that David Roux (who made his name on the Piazza Grande in Locarno in 2018 with Breath of Life) has chosen to explore in Mrs., which will be released on 8 April in French cinemas by Jour2Fête. A highly universal portrait of a submissive woman, almost a living dead, slowly suffocating in her routine daily life as a spouse, mother and housewife at the heart of a wealthy provincial microcosm.

“It’s the silence that’s killing me.” The atmosphere is far from cheerful at the Casella family’s splendid estate, a vast property nestled in the forest. The death of their mother has brought together the three heirs of this industrialist family: the eldest, Antoine (Éric Caravaca), the carefree Bob (Arnaud Valois) and the independent Lili (Sarah le Picard). Following a very heated discussion against the backdrop of a forced share buyback, the eldest (who runs the family business) takes charge of the household, where he forces his wife Marianne (Mélanie Thierry) to move in to look after the patriarch André (Jérôme Deschamps), who is frail and bedridden, yet still very feisty.

For the housewife Marianne (shown in an enigmatic flashback to have been the victim of a street attack), this new life is a real sacrifice, one she accepts out of a sense of maternal duty towards their two children, young Tim (Jules Mariot) and teenager Laure (Lila Gueneau). But with Antoine frequently away on business trips, Marianne’s daily routine (polishing the silverware, packing sugared almonds for Laure’s confirmation – with whom she has a strained relationship – supervising the household with the maid, a secret affair with the very persistent Bob, dealing with her difficult father-in-law, school runs, countless moments of emptiness spent gazing at the park through the window, etc.) becomes increasingly burdensome. And the arrival of a photographer (Jérémie Renier) will bring a forgotten past back to the surface…

“If I’d known your former name, everything might have been different.”Beautifully portrayed by Mélanie Thierry, this snapshot captures a woman at an existential crossroads, trapped and psychologically scarred within a stifling bourgeois milieu dominated by patriarchy. Beneath its classic appearance - a blend of 1950s American cinema and insidious, Claude Chabrol-esque vitriol - the film reveals a striking subtlety. The set is used to great effect; cinematographer Aurélien Marra employs delicate blurring; and the screenplay, written by the director with Gaëlle Macé and based on Hélène Lenoir’s novel Son nom d’avant, gradually unveils the mysteries of the past. All of this is bathed in an almost imperceptible sense of strangeness.

Mrs. was produced by Eliane Antoinette and Reboot Films, and co-produced by Belgian companies Panache Productions and La Compagnie Cinématographique. Lucky Number handles international sales.

(Translated from French)