Petite Maman (2021)

I generally avoid movies focused on grief or the death of loved ones. They often seem manipulative – just a way to make people feel depressed. My first experience with this type of movie was 1994’s My Life – where Michael Keaton records messages for his unborn child as he is dying of cancer. That was an absolutely miserable experience for me, and I don’t like to replicate it. So, when I read the synopsis of Petite Maman, I was a little hesitant.

Nelly and her parents must travel to her mother’s childhood home after the passing of her grandmother. Her mother is overwhelmed with grief as they clean out the small home, but Nelly’s sadness is partially subsided when she meets a young neighbor girl playing in the woods. The two strike up an immediate bond, and it is clear that something special – even magical – is happening.

Petite Maman is a small film by practically every measurable standard – small cast, limited locations, minimal dialogue, and only 72 minutes in run time; but it looms large in pathos. Somehow, even though the story is dealing with death, there is a warmth and comfort in every scene. It manages to straddle an invisible line between mourning loss and celebrating life.

Director Céline Sciamma (Portrait of a Lady on Fire, Girlhood) gently allows us to participate in Nelly’s struggle with loss, and my heart overflowed watching her experience rather than ached. I saw the simple joys that get lost in time but make the most precious memories. It is quiet, beautiful, and deserves to be seen.

I’ll keep my final thoughts brief – like the film itself. I have a few more movies to watch, but as I write this, Petite Maman is my favorite film of 2021.