Inspired by visits to a shelter for teenage mothers in their hometown of Liège, Belgium, Jean-Pierre and Luc Dardenne’s Young Mothers is a subtle variation on their deceptively simple brand of neorealism. Where most of their work centers on a central character or relationship between two people, the Dardenne brothers’ latest follows the day-to-day lives of five teenage mothers living in the same shelter. Never losing sight of the harsh social realities facing these working-class single parents, the film remains primarily focused on the characters’ emotional turmoil as they struggle to initiate themselves into adulthood.
In moving between the teenage mothers, the Dardennes slowly study various permutations of the same core issue facing these young women. For Jessica (Babette Verbeek), who never knew her own biological mother, her pregnancy sparks a determination not to consign her own child to feelings of abandonment with which she has struggled her entire life. Ariane (Janaïna Halloy Fokan), meanwhile, has an equal and opposite reaction to growing up with an alcoholic mom (Christelle Cornil), wanting to give both herself and her child a chance at a happier future by putting her baby up for adoption. Jessica cannot bear the thought of giving up her child, but Ariane sees keeping hers as a surefire way to perpetuate the cycle of misery that forged her.
Elsewhere, Perla (Lucie Laruelle) attempts to shepherd her family forward, but that’s made difficult by her boyfriend, Robin (Gunter Duret), who’s coming out of juvenile detention and is hardly committed to taking on the responsibilities of fatherhood. Not every person in Young Mothers, though, teeters on the edge of hopelessness. Naïma (Samia Hilmi), for one, has stabilized herself enough to get a job as a subway ticket inspector and her own flat. (In one of the film’s sweetest and thematically resonant scenes, the other shelter inhabitants throwing her a party complete with gifts of toy trains.) There’s also Julie (Elsa Houben), a recovering addict who enjoys a loving, mutually supportive relationship with her baby’s father, Dylan (Jef Jacobs).
The Dardennes establish these characters quickly, before spending the duration of the film complicating them. Some of the young mothers who seem destined for ruin claw at dignity from the jaws of defeat, and those who are so close to attaining a life of perceived normalcy and happiness face the setbacks and relapses that can upend anyone’s world. The cast, consisting of seasoned and untrained performers alike, tap into the cornered-animal desperation of people who know they’re one more wrong move away from falling off a cliff.
The filmmaker brothers employ their usual style of closely trailing their characters with handheld cameras, the proximity of the lens to the subjects subtly conveying the claustrophobic sense of entrapment that these marginalized figures experience. In remaining so close to the characters, the Dardennes also pick up on subtle emotional cues before they spiral into something more explosive. Perla, often visibly trying to remain calm in her interactions with prospective landlords, employers, and Robin, visits her older sister (Joely Mbundu) and ends up getting challenged one too many times until you see her mask of impassivity start to slip, then collapse entirely as she unleashes a rage she works hard to keep buried.
Even the saddest moments in Young Mothers are complicated by some small act of connection. Tense scenes between the teens and their mothers often reveal a mutual sense of understanding, with the young adults showing a wise-beyond-their-years empathy for the way their parents let them down. And while the frequent, shrill cries of infants add to the stress the young mothers are under, there are also moments where characters marvel at the little lives they have made, prompting tenderness even from the teens most apprehensive of parenthood.
In recent years, the Dardennes’ interest in the migrant crisis in Europe and its attendant tensions has often felt reductive, with their characters coming across less as living people and more like ciphers. Young Mothers is a welcome return to form, balancing social observation with character study. Here, the brothers offer particular insight into the nonlinear path of individual growth, with its series of progressions and regressions, acknowledging both the cycles of neglect and abuse that shape people and the need to develop the strength to break them.
Since 2001, we've brought you uncompromising, candid takes on the world of film, music, television, video games, theater, and more. Independently owned and operated publications like Slant have been hit hard in recent years, but we’re committed to keeping our content free and accessible—meaning no paywalls or fees.
If you like what we do, please consider subscribing to our Patreon or making a donation.
