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Sokol and Lorna, two Albanian emigrants in Belgium, dream of leaving their dreary jobs to set up a snack bar. They need money, and a permanent resident status. Claudy is a junkie - he needs... See full summary »
Liège, Belgium. Sandra is a factory worker who discovers that her workmates have opted for a EUR1,000 bonus in exchange for her dismissal. She has only a weekend to convince her colleagues to give up their bonuses in order to keep her job.
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The first scene, like almost all others, is a fighting scene. A girl, about 18, is sacked from her factory work because her trial period is over. The girl, Rosetta, is quite upset and the cops will have to arrive to get her out. She has her reasons: she lives in a caravan, with her alcoholic mother. She goes looking for work as some go to the war. Treasons, murders are in her mind, if not in her acts.Written by
Gregoire Dubost <Gregoire.firstname.lastname@example.org>
Your name is Rosetta. My name is Rosetta. You found a job. I found a job. You've got a friend. I've got a friend. You have a normal life. I have a normal life. You won't fall in a rut. I won't fall in a rut. Good night. Good night.
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Social realism with an edge. One camera, one actress, everything stripped to the bone, down to the rules of survival. Verité to the max, the single hand-held eye of the film follows a teenage girl (Emilie DeQueene) on the fringe of extinction, poor almost to the point of homelessness, saddled with an alcoholic quasi-prostitute mother, desperate for work, for some semblance, any semblance of "normality," doing everything humanly possible to keep her head above water, at one point quite literally almost drowned by her mother.
Life at the razor's edge, reduced to the basics, shows us what we are, what we are made of and need most but take for granted, forget as soon as we can. None of us want to think of what we might turn into if trapped like an animal. This is a proletarian lesson, a lesson in the dignifying value of work, of belonging, of one's right to selfhood in society. As materialistic as the USA is, one will never find an American film this brutally honest about our relation to our means of survival.
All alone in the world, Rosetta jettisons everything, all attachments, any superfluous connection to humanity, coldly focusing what little remains on ol' numero uno. What would you? The film details every little exigency she must overcome just to move and breathe with the rest of us, follows her every stratagem to eke out a bare existence, down to every single small possession essential to her urban expeditions, down to the mud she digs her hands into to find worms for bait.
The underlying conflict, the real theme of it all becomes clear only in fragments: What's the point of living for oneself, by oneself, reduced to a jungle animal? She finds the answer in the most stark and extreme of terms, having been to hell and back.
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