French filmmaker Aurélie Saada depicts a wilted life in boom with “Rose.”
French filmmaker Aurélie Saada depicts a wilted life in boom with “Rose.”
Life is like a rose — though it stings at times, its beauty lies in how we handle it.
Originally released in 2021, French actress and writer Aurélie Saada’s directorial debut “Rose” entered U.S. theaters Jan. 24. Filmed entirely in French, the film transcends language through its relatability.
After the death of her husband Philippe, the titular Rose (Françoise Fabian) grapples with her own mortality. Nearly 80-years-old, she channels her grief into a newfound determination to live life to the fullest.
“Rose” stems from Saada’s life, weaving her Tunisian Jewish heritage into the characters. Rose herself is influenced not only by Saada, but also by the female friends and family in Saada’s life.
In addition to writing and directing, Saada composed the film’s score, lending her voice in Hebrew, Arabic, Yiddish and Italian.
These personal touches allow “Rose” to masterfully teach what it means to be human.
The film begins with a vibrant birthday celebration for Philippe, meant to display the couple’s relationship. Though brief, their playful exchanges effectively portray their bond, allowing audiences to feel the weight of his death just a few minutes later.
Fabian’s portrayal of Rose builds the film’s relatability. Her presentation of a confused widow is both convincing and empathetic, capturing the vulnerability and resilience of a woman navigating the complexities of grief.
A majority of “Rose” is shot with a handheld camera, framing the film in subtle shakes that enhance its intimate feel. Bathed in a warm, orange light, the dark shadows cast a nostalgic glow over the family as they grapple with distress.
Yet to Rose, it seems everyone is in good spirits.
The first act concludes with an extended dinner sequence, where casual conversations and sporadic laughter engulf a silent Rose. As a cigarette is passed down the table, she unexpectedly takes her first puff — a small but significant step into the unknown.
For the first time in 50 years, Rose gets behind the wheel, travels to bars, forges new relationships and embraces life in ways she never dared before.
This sudden shift in Rose’s behavior unsettles her children, who become concerned for her mental health — an overprotectiveness which irritates Rose. Their escalating conflicts are intensified by long, silent shots.
Damien Chapelle’s portrayal of Léon, Rose’s youngest son, is especially compelling. Living with his mother, Léon frequently clashes with Rose, creating tense and emotionally charged situations.
These scenes open the audience’s eyes to how the rest of the family copes with death — fueled by confusion and anger as everything around them seems to change rapidly.
Still, the remaining two children feel insignificant. Despite having their own subplots, they don’t lead anywhere or aid the larger narrative. This focus drags the film, dampening its steady pace.
“Rose” closes with an abrupt, inconclusive ending for both its titular character and her family alike. Offering an arguably mundane glimpse into a woman’s journey of self-discovery, its simplicity is what makes it so endearing.
Through Saada’s intimate direction and the cast’s nuanced performances, “Rose” offers a poignant reminder that no matter where people are in life, there’s still room for growth, change and self-discovery.
French cinema is often praised for its innovation and unique approach to storytelling, and “Rose” is no exception. Its grounded narrative makes it an easy entry point for those new to the style.
“Rose” is in select theaters now.