Rosalie review – intriguing empowerment story of a 19th century celebrity ‘bearded lady’

HThere’s an intriguing, if not entirely successful, attempt to create a hero for gender-fluid times and give him the full mainstream film credits. In fact, the first half of this story about nineteenth-century bride Rosalie (Nadia Tereszkiewicz), who has a hormone disorder that covers her body with hair, almost resembles The Devil Wears Prada or one of those jaunty comedy-dramas about a young outsider. who refuses to be intimidated by their ambitions. In Rosalie’s case, both by the brutal factory workers of the community into which she marries and by polite society.

Director Stéphanie di Giusto has loosely based her film on the life of the 20th-century ‘bearded lady’ Clementine Delait, transposing the story to 1870s Brittany. Rosalie is married off by her father with a dowry to café owner Abel (Benoît Magimel), who thinks he has been sold a puppy when his bride turns for the first undresses once. She swallows her humiliation and bets her clients that if she stops shaving, she can grow a shinier beard than comparable fairground attractions. Abel is already struggling with his feelings and bracing himself for the day of revelation, but the bewildered and charmed locals empty their cafe day after day. The couple, who are in debt to estate owner Barcelin (Benjamin Biolay), may have found a quick financial solution.

With her furry strawberry blonde collar, Tereszkiewicz looks like an endearing Sir Francis Drake and her role as a rising celebrity is fun, with a big-city journalist soaking up her story. But it would have been nice to see Di Giusto act with this authority to make the film a more deliberate, Orlando-esque gender exploration. It does a decent job of raising questions about appearance, femininity and conformity, but ironically also goes the conventional route by portraying Rosalie as a tragic hero. In particular, the drama surrounding Barcelin and his henchmen who attack her to enforce the patriarchy feels manufactured.

The negotiations between Abel and Rosalie ring truer, with Magimel being ponderous and vulnerable in his attempts to balance his need for respect with his essential human decency. And Tereszkiewicz employs a restrained provocativeness as her character tries to expand her life and wake up her husband. Ultimately, the film takes on a predictable rhythm as society turns against the couple, with an aesthetic touch: fairytale allusions, abandoned flower bouquets. But the central private struggle is where the action takes place.