‘A Woman’s Life’ Review

By Nadia Dalimonte

Léa Drucker in A Woman’s Life

Léa Drucker staring into the eyes of a former lover, quietly longing for a relationship she thought would last forever, is enough reason to see Charline Bourgeois-Tacquet’s pragmatic character study, A Woman’s Life. Drucker plays Gabrielle, an accomplished career woman whose bottled-up personality is revealed through the life she has built for herself. She works as a surgeon and department head at a hospital that faces nursing and supply shortages. She craves more alone time with her husband (Charles Berling), whose adult children are still hanging around. Her mother is suffering from Alzheimer’s and will soon be moved into a nursing home. With very little time for herself, Gabrielle has a passionate romance with a writer named Frida (Mélanie Thierry), whose lifestyle sounds enticing simply in how much calmer it seems in comparison. Would Gabrielle disrupt her comfort and security to pursue intense love? Drucker’s phenomenal performance slow-builds towards addressing this question, and the answer is bittersweet.
​
A Woman’s Life may not offer the most creative-sounding title, but its broadness speaks to a concept that women are bombarded with on a daily basis: having it all. From a young age, women are so often taught to be accommodating and take up less space, so that the needs of marriage and children dominate as top priority. As such, many ultimately talk themselves out of the lives they do want. Then there is the exhausting work-life balance, and the assumption that women in the workplace must have all sacrificed wanting to start a family. Drucker has an impeccable monologue in which she schools a male colleague on the expectation that because she is so dedicated to her career, she must have given up on having children of her own. As Gabrielle brilliantly puts it, “We don’t all need to reproduce to be alive.” 

This scene serves as a standout element to peel back the layers of Gabrielle’s internal conflict. We learn that she had to take care of her sister from a young age, and as a result, has grown tired of having dependants. Gabrielle’s family history provides some insightful context as to why she chose to dedicate much of her energy into a professional life. The monologue also speaks to Drucker’s wonderfully layered performance. Whether in a confrontational setting such as the hospital monologue, or through an intense glance (of which there are many), she consistently gives us several little revelatory moments to chew on. Most crucially, Drucker grounds the breezy tone of the film. Her gravitas adds plenty of dimension to scenes that may have otherwise felt inconsequential or too slight. She also has the opportunity to explore a change in Gabrielle’s demeanor, when Frida invites her on a trip to the gorgeous Italian Alps. In this chapter, titled “Encore,” Drucker reveals a new side of Gabrielle that mirrors the slower-paced lifestyle Frida leads. This trip arrives as a refreshing change of pace for the character, and for a narrative that moves to the beat of her often fast-paced scenarios. 

Bourgeois-Tacquet presents the character’s life in several chapter headings, with “I Want It All” serving as a fitting start on a thematic level. While a few chapters do work to offer a more seamless transition between scenes, the majority are unnecessary divisions that interrupt the narrative flow and make the film feel longer than its runtime. Although, chapter five has a particularly amusing headline (“No”), considering it’s mainly a sequence of sparks flying between Gabrielle and Frida as they watch a performance art piece. One of the most impressive elements is how Drucker and Thierry manage to embody such a deep connection, not to mention brilliant chemistry, in a rather short period of time. It’s an integral feat, as their relationship bookends the film. Drucker and Thierry also share a riveting dinner scene set in Torino, Italy. From this moment alone, it’s easy to believe why Gabrielle fell in love with Frida so intensely. Thierry brings a je ne sais quoi energy about her, which makes for magnetic screen presence. 

With a performer as accomplished as Léa Drucker leading the way, A Woman’s Life leaves behind a glowing final thought, despite the film’s fairly rushed pacing and excessively unnecessary chapters for Gabrielle’s story. One cannot help but feel swept away by Drucker’s towering ability to command the direction of a scene, share terrific chemistry with her fellow actors, and build onto her character’s conflict through a dynamic collection of everyday interactions. Similar to Rose Byrne’s tour de force in Mary Bronstein’s If I Had Legs I’d Kick You, albeit far more breezy in tone, Drucker quickly becomes the film’s key element from the very beginning. Her character’s conflict might not crescendo into the most memorably constructed scenes. However, with Drucker single-handedly carrying the film’s emotional core on her shoulders, any minor quibbles instantly melt into afterthoughts, while her exquisite work remains at the forefront.