It’s a story that we’ve seen many times, in various variations, in cinema, in theatre, in literature… Brought together by the imminent death of a loved one, the members of a family bicker in anticipation of reconciliations that are as inevitable as the death of said loved one. It’s this tried and tested formula that the film takes up again His Three Daughters (His three daughters). However, even if you are used to this type of story, you cannot fail to be captivated and then transported by this one. There is the finesse of the writing and the precision of Azazel Jacobs’ staging, but above all, there is the extraordinary brilliance of the three female stars: Carrie Coon, Natasha Lyonne and Elizabeth Olsen.
The latter embody three sisters, one in her thirties and two in their forties with, as it should be, contrasting temperaments: without contrast, no conflict, and without conflict, no drama. Carrie Coon is Katie, the psychorigid eldest who rules everyone, Natasha Lyonne is Rachel, the youngest frozen in a kind of gloomy adolescence, and Elizabeth Olsen is Christina, the perpetually sprightly youngest.
Obviously, as is still to be expected, the facade presented by each will gradually crack, revealing unsuspected torments, torments, and in short, complexity.
Sharp words, old grudges and other painful truths are poured out, the expression of recriminations becoming a necessary step towards acceptance, then forgiveness. Yes, in theory, it all sounds like déjà vu.
But there is something at work in this sisterly huis clos… something like a little magic.
Captivating Natasha Lyonne
The exchanges chiseled by Azazel Jacobs (French Exit / Exit tower side) are incredibly accurate, but it’s the passages that are more like monologues that are most gripping. In fact, the film opens like this.
Even though she has just insisted on the importance of getting along and not criticizing each other, Katie (in a black turtleneck in front of a white wall: hello symbol) addresses a series of reproaches to Rachel, who doesn’t say a word, clearly used to taking it. And Christina takes off in a completely disconnected jovial tirade…
Polar characters, conflicting dynamics, incommunicability: it’s all there, brilliantly established, from the outset.
Consequently, Jacobs films the three heroines in individual shots, each isolated on her own side. When Katie and Christina are captured in the same frame, it is to exacerbate Rachel’s sometimes voluntary, sometimes forced distance. In this role that confines her to silence for a long time, Natasha Lyonne (But I’m a Cheerleader ; Russian Doll) is especially captivating.
The proposal is also, much more than anticipated, much more than anything one could imagine. In the company of these three sisters, we go through the proverbial range of emotions — several times. In short, in front of this film that could have turned out to be easy but turns out to be anything but that, we laugh and cry, almost in spite of ourselves.