Here’s something to tempt the appetites of fans of French cinema and artisan cheeses alike: Holy Cow, the first feature fim from French director Louise Courvoisier, has been a breakout success domestically (it won a prize at Cannes and a couple of Césars, and went on to win over French audiences in their droves). On paper, this tale of a rural teenage delinquent who dreams of glory in the annual comté cheesemaking competition sounds like any number of generic feelgood underdog tales. But there’s a knack to making great rural cinema, which boils down to capturing the grit and spit and personality of the place rather than some sun-dappled romantic projection of a simpler life.
It helps immeasurably that Courvoisier grew up in the same remote Jura farming community in eastern France where the film is set. It shows in every rough-edged, beer-drenched frame – this is earthy, sweaty, unvarnished film-making with dirt under its nails – and in particular it benefits the casting and direction of the phenomenal, largely nonprofessional actors.
Courvoisier’s storytelling approach is sensitive but resolutely unsentimental, despite the tragedy that underpins this coming-of-age story. Teenage deadbeat Totone (Clément Faveau) spends his summer drinking, fighting, chasing girls and tooling around on battered dirt bikes. Then his alcoholic, widowed father dies, leaving Totone responsible for a failing farm and his seven-year-old sister. Totone latches on to the cheese competition, with its generous prize money, as a quick-fix solution to his predicament. But to make cheese, he decides to steal milk from young farmer Marie-Lise (Maïwene Barthelemy). Ultimately, the comté is beside the point: the nourishment in this terrific, big-hearted drama comes from Courvoisier’s satisfyingly full-blooded characters.
In UK and Irish cinemas
