‘The Little Sister’ Review: Coming-of-Age Drama About a French Muslim’s Lesbian Awakening Is a Low-Key Stunner

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Just as American cinema is consistently filled with road trip stories, French cinema has been marked by numerous films about adolescent sexual awakening: narratives that follow young characters as they discover their bodies, desires, and identities over the course of a sun-filled summer, turbulent school year, or transformative period of sexual exploration.

Just like many well-liked movie genres, a sense of repetition or even complacency can occur over time; not many recent films have managed to stir the excitement of novelty that made Maurice Pialat’s “To Our Loves”, André Téchiné’s “Wild Reeds” and several Catherine Breillat productions stand out in our minds, memories, and even desires.

Every now and then, a film emerges that stands out boldly amidst its peers, with its self-assured demeanor, unique feel, electric sexual tension, and poignant sense of nostalgia. Hafsia Herzi’s exceptional movie, titled “The Little Sister (La petite dernière)“, which revolves around a French Muslim teenager’s lesbian realization, falls into this category. It can be compared to Abdellatif Kechiche’s “Blue Is the Warmest Color“, Rebecca Zlotowski’s “An Easy Girl“, and Téchiné’s “Being 17” in the elite group of modern examples.

Brimming with intensity yet masterfully restrained, and graced by a standout central performance, The Little Sister undoubtedly belongs to the ranks of genre classics, captivating viewers as much by its humanistic touch as its sensuality. The unique blend of communities portrayed (LGBTQ and Muslim), along with some unforgettable lesbian scenes, lends a pulsating freshness to the drama. However, the film holds its own ground, silencing any skepticism about its placement in this year’s main competition.

In her third directorial venture at the age of 38, Herzi (a celebrated actress who gained recognition from the César awards in Kechiche’s 2007 film “The Secret of the Grain“) – with her previous two films gaining positive reception domestically but failing to secure U.S. distribution – has created a work that deserves global recognition. In an ideal world, this film would serve as a significant international breakthrough for both its director and lead actress Nadia Melliti, whose captivating performance combining body and soul is one of the most promising screen debuts I’ve recently encountered.

Despite the potential for the story’s theme, which revolves around a struggle between personal desires and religious expectations, to veer towards didacticism or preachiness, Herzi demonstrates exceptional skill as a flexible and subtle storyteller. Drawing inspiration from Fatima Daas’ 2020 autobiographical novel, she exhibits an uncanny knack for pacing, a rich naturalistic visual aesthetic, and a deft handling of tone, blending humor, intensity, and raw emotion. It’s not surprising that Herzi has elicited outstanding performances from the entire cast, even minor characters who only appear briefly leave lasting impressions.

The movie begins by showing Fatima (Melliti), a high school senior, carrying out religious practices at home, such as cleaning herself before prayer and kneeling while bowing, all dressed in a full hijab. This happens in a housing estate outside Paris that is depicted with affection and efficiency by the director, Herzi. The setting feels real and inviting, giving us a sense of Fatima’s life.

In my own world as a gamer, I’m Fatima, the watchful tomboy with a knack for soccer and a pack of boisterous guy pals. My apartment, filled with familiar nuisances and comforts, echoes with teasing from my older sisters, a mother who dotes while whirling around the kitchen, and a dad glued to the TV, grumbling good-naturedly from the couch. My raven-black hair is always tied back in a practical ponytail. I manage asthma, visiting an adorably nerdy doctor for check-ups. There’s this shy, traditional young man in my life who’s Muslim, and he’s keen on advancing things – marriage, kids, the works. However, my polite declines to his proposals make it clear that I’m not quite ready for such steps yet.

Fatima is a talented student who often finds herself engrossed in class while her peers engage in joking behavior nearby. However, when their jokes turn into offensive comments that border on homophobia, she chooses to remain silent. In a particularly heart-wrenching moment, she even joins in the bullying of a gay classmate, aggressively reacting when he questions her own sexuality. The fear of being exposed is evident in Fatima at this point, as her composed demeanor crumbles into near-primordial terror, embarrassment, and shame.

One evening, Fatima signs up on a dating app for lesbians. Not long after, she finds herself in a car with an older woman named Ingrid (Sophie Garagnon), receiving a detailed yet non-practical explanation about various aspects of lesbian intimacy. This scene is both enticing and surprising because Ingrid swiftly shifts from her role as a seductress to that of a guide. Recognizing that Fatima’s primary need at this moment isn’t physical intimacy, but open discussions about it – to break the mystery and stigma surrounding the topic – Ingrid gently coaxes Fatima out of her comfort zone, answering her questions with playful, wistful amusement.

This initiation prepares Fatima for a deeper bond with Ji-Na, a young nurse (the captivating Park Ji-Min from “Return to Seoul”), whom she encounters by chance at an asthma management seminar. As the days go by and they delve into each other’s pasts, interests, and aspirations during a candlelit dinner by the Seine, we sense the delightful thrill of their growing mutual interest. Herzi beautifully illustrates something subtle yet profoundly common – the gradual formation of a human relationship, a phenomenon seldom portrayed convincingly on screen.

Fatima and Ji-Na, an unusual duo, have distinct personalities. While Fatima moves with the grace and caution of a panther, Ji-Na exudes a more straightforward, energetic charm that resembles a puppy. Despite their differences, their bond is strong, as both women find themselves as outsiders in France – Fatima being the only one from her family not born in Algeria, and Ji-Na having immigrated to Paris at age five from Korea. As their relationship develops from initial romantic moments (this film showcases genuine kisses) to participating in Pride Marches, nights out exploring the city, and enjoying homemade noodles, the movie beautifully portrays a world of growing intimacy and liberty unfolding for Fatima.

Life doesn’t always follow the script we write for it, but it keeps moving forward. Fatima embarks on her university journey, focusing on philosophy while making a group of new friends, an interesting contrast to her old high school crew of macho friends. She also gets acquainted with some older lesbians, spearheaded by Cassandra (Mouna Soualem, magnificent), a charismatic woman with curly hair and a smoky, alluring voice. Recognizing Fatima’s heartache, Cassandra swiftly breaks through her barriers, welcoming Fatima into her life (and that of her girlfriend). Scenes depicting them together perfectly capture the exhilarating rush of youthful exploration and self-discovery.

However, after every night filled with joy comes a desolate, weary morning-after. Melliti’s proud, almost royal gaze transforms in these moments, shrouded by sorrow and worry. Fatima realizes she is evolving – moving away from her roots and family in fundamental ways, yet still on the fringes of a community she hasn’t fully accepted as hers. This transitional lifestyle seems unbearable for someone as sincere as Fatima, and the movie raises the question: Why should anyone in modern France have to compromise integral aspects of themselves?

The Little Sister acknowledges the challenging reality faced by some religiously devout LGBTQ individuals, particularly when it comes to revealing their sexual orientation to loved ones. However, Herzi portrays Islam in a sympathetic and unbiased manner within Fatima’s life. The filmmaker avoids criticizing religion and instead focuses on the intricacy and multifaceted nature of identities. Fatima’s decision to embrace both her sexuality and her spirituality is depicted as an act of faith, demonstrating self-belief, a resilient Islam that may not fully accept her, and a nation with a history of intolerance towards diversity and community that might struggle to accommodate her as well.

In certain aspects, “The Little Sister” reminds one of Dee Rees’ “Pariah,” another film about a young person discovering their queer identity within a tradition-bound family setting. However, unlike the mother character in that movie who served as an adversary, Fatima’s parents are depicted as caring and not overly religious or ostentatiously devout. (The strictures of Islam are only discussed later in the film by an imam whom Fatima seeks help from in a moment of crisis.) Amina Ben Mohamed, playing Fatima’s mother, is particularly portrayed as a supportive figure; her quiet moments of pride, such as when she hangs her daughter’s diploma on the wall, are heartwarming and poignant.

As a gamer, I thought Fatima’s mother seemed unaware of her daughter’s struggles at first glance, but then in a nearly silent moment before the final scene, it felt like she let out a breath I didn’t even realize I was holding. The conversation between them didn’t exactly lead to a clear breakthrough, and that’s crucial because outcomes like these are rarely perfect. In the end, The Little Sister portrays a bittersweet acceptance of the limitations of the people, institutions, and communities we care about deeply.

Herzi’s filmmaking style is refined yet not overly meticulous; the movie pulses with a raw, realistic energy that feels genuine from scene to scene. Collaborating with cinematographer Jérémie Attard, Herzi captures her actors with care and sensitivity, skillfully employing close-ups without being intrusive or excessive. Géraldine Mangenot’s editing and Amine Bouhafa’s moving score create a rhythmic, thoughtful ambiance that adds depth to the story unfolding.

The concluding scene of the movie carries an intriguing vagueness that resonates deeply. A seemingly simple look from Fatima takes on deeper significance later, symbolizing her uniqueness, determination, and resilience. It’s both heart-wrenching and inspiring simultaneously, reflecting the film’s subtle depth and endearing quality. This duality in interpretation is a testament to the film’s understated complexity, making it an exceptionally wise and delightful piece of work.

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2025-05-16 17:55