The first time we meet motorbike fanatic Julia (Julie Ledru), she is temporarily without wheels. Lashing out indiscriminately, at war with everything, it’s as though she is trying to tear her way out of the frame. And the camera is only slightly less agitated than she is. It doesn’t take her long to steal another motorbike. And once she does, both Julia and the cinematography take on a different character. The camera grows wings and soars, fluidity replacing the jerkiness of the earlier scenes. And Julia laughs with pleasure, billowing hair full of grit and exhaust fumes. For a while at least, before a jarring third-act climax, the protagonist and the film-making keep pace with each other perfectly.
Julia’s wild streak and her thief’s cunning have estranged her from her family, but these traits earn the grudging respect of a team of urban rodeo riders – asphalt outlaws who pull high-speed stunts in illicit meet-ups. It’s an ultra-macho world, populated by youths with Rizla-thin skins who are threatened by a woman in their number. Julia meets their aggression with fists and fury.
This ambitious, exhaustively researched French-language debut from Lola Quivoron thrillingly captures the subculture, with its daredevil dirt bike riders who subsist on adrenaline and petrol. The film’s authenticity is bolstered by the fact that most of the cast, including the remarkable Ledru, are non- professional actors recruited from the urban rodeo circuit. But while the world is vividly evoked, down to the last oil smear and Tarmac graze, Quivoron’s handling of the story is less confident, culminating in a breathless, Fast and Furious-style heist but let down by a clunky piece of crash-and-burn symbolism. Still, while it doesn’t entirely work, the film is as fearless and in-your-face as its formidable central character.
• In cinemas and on Curzon Home Cinema
