Rodeo
Lola Quivoron borrows from the banlieue to create a high-octane but uneven first feature, which centres on a female dirt rider in an all-male gang
A secretive, fierce rider, Julia (Julie Ledru), the protagonist of Rodeo, carries around badly bottled-up rage — we first lay eyes on her as she needs to be physically restrained after her bike gets stolen.
Going by the nickname l’inconnue (the unknown in French), this feisty biker comes from a dysfunctional background. Yet, all the disappointments of a dead-end existence disappear when she’s on the saddle. Her unbridled, infectious joy and talent for scamming her way through life put her on the map of a boys’ bike club, with their boss Domino (Sébastien Schroeder) eager to exploit her skills.
Julia shakes up the male crew, the camera shadowing her and the other dirt riders as they perform adrenaline-filled stunts. Striving for freedom, the bikers all tread carelessly in the grey area between life and death, showing off a defiant, devil-may-care attitude. But Julia realises that this male-dominated, toxic environment is weighing her down when she befriends Domino’s wife Ophélie (Antonia Buresi), who's stuck in a controlling marriage.
As her moniker suggests, Julia is a lone wolf who gives very little away. This cooler-than-thou demeanour fits Rodeo's Western-like narrative, but it’s also at times conveyed through contrived dialogue that doesn't do justice to Ledru's forceful, nuanced performance. As the credits roll on a somewhat predictable ending, it dawns on you that you haven't learned anything of substance about Julia. Where Rodeo finds its moments of truth, though, is in the purposefully ambiguous friendship between the protagonist and Ophélie, whose peculiar desperations can be heard well beyond their stripped-down interactions.
Released 28 Apr by Curzon; certificate 15