Jeanne, 24, speeds through the Parisian dawn on her moped. Then, here she stops, smashes the window of a store and grabs a men’s suit which she will put on shortly after as part of an internship within an investment firm. However, the girl who is the daughter of a police officer may well be dressed like the overwhelming male majority around her, but discrimination based on sex and class is no less obvious. Jeanne’s determination being matched only by her intelligence, the guardians of the temple of high finance had better watch out. In The Silver VenusClaire Pommet, alias Pomme, is a revelation as an extraordinary “trader” and beyond categorization.
Conceived by Héléna Klotz, who wrote the screenplay in collaboration with Noé Debré and directed the film following her meeting with a real “trader”, The Silver Venus is both an original portrait and a financial thriller.
Indeed, Jeanne (Claire Pommet) is a singular heroine in every sense of the word. She refuses to be placed in a box — any box. In a professional environment where testosterone reigns, she takes on the disguise of the dominant group in order to blend in and be able to operate more easily. Moreover, the heroine’s evolution in both clothing and hair between the prologue and the epilogue is eminently symbolic.
On a narrative level, the ease with which Jeanne manages to impress her boss, Farès (Sofiane Zermani), with her unstoppable predictions, immediately becoming her protégé, requires a certain dose of suspension of disbelief. The interpreters are, however, so persuasive that we hardly think about it anymore. What follows also proves to be gripping, with Jeanne climbing very high, very quickly, before the inevitable fall followed by the unexpected rise.
Yes, the journey is a bit expected, but told – and played, it really is worth emphasizing this – with passion and conviction.
Feminist subtext
For Jeanne, financial success has nothing to do with a thirst for luxury: for her, it is a question of freedom, of emancipation. She wants to escape her environment and a destiny pre-programmed by patriarchal social diktats.
In this regard, a subplot with an ex-lover that Jeanne agrees to educate after having ejected him from her life is an opportunity to explore the question of consent: this whole aspect is very well integrated into the main plot .
Which plot, in its “suspense against a backdrop of big money” dimension, sees Jeanne encounter three decisive figures, all in a position of superiority over each other. The most intriguing is Elia (Anna Mouglalis), a strategically positioned heiress.
During two key sequences, at the end of the first act and at the beginning of the third, the words and especially the actions of Elia reinforce the feminist subtext which runs implicitly in The Silver Venus.
Subtlety and striking force
The film also benefits from a distinguished staging, sharp as a razor blade. There are undeniably David Fincher influences at work here, but without Héléna Klotz limiting herself to doing “in the manner of”.
The filmmaker proves particularly adept at capturing revealing or equivocal looks during ambiguous or tense situations, or even both. We think, among other things, of this important meeting between Elia and Farès, which Jeanne attends. At one point, the second’s expression changes, briefly, announcing a later reversal that we, in the audience, can then anticipate, unlike Jeanne. This is the Hitchcockian approach to suspense, admirably modulated here.
In this, Héléna Klotz achieves a beautiful balance, between subtlety and striking force. With Jeanne, she was able to create a heroine as fascinating as she is inspiring.