The Balconettes Review: Noémie Merlant's Confident Interpretation of Comedy-Horror

      Note: This review was initially published as part of our coverage of Cannes 2025. The Balconettes will be released in theaters on August 22.

      The stylish balconies of Marseille present a picturesque scene that serves as a fitting introduction to Noémie Merlant’s second feature, The Balconettes, especially showcased through the sweeping view of a crane shot. As the camera glides over the facades and their baby-blue shutters, one might be reminded of Rear Window. Yet, the small figures of men and women struggle to endure the heat, while we, as viewers, enjoy a privileged glimpse into their homes. On one such balcony, a woman endures yet another beating but decides this time to fight back. This marks the beginning of a film that intertwines elements of comedy and supernatural horror to explore the various ways women care for one another in the face of violence.

      The Balconettes is Merlant’s second directorial feature, following her shorts and the 2021 Cannes submission Mi Iubita Mon Amour. This modest film revolves around a woman who engages in an affair with a 17-year-old boy during her bachelorette trip in Romania. While Mi Iubita had some narrative challenges, despite its beautiful visuals and sense of uncertainty, it felt somewhat disappointing. The Balconettes showcases the type of film that Merlant is meant to create: vibrant, humorous, and daring, serving as a true testament to the strength of female friendship depicted through farcical and horror elements.

      During a heatwave, with windows thrown open, the residents of Marseille can easily observe their neighbors’ lives. Nicole (Sanda Codreanu), a writer and dreamer, is the first to notice an attractive man across the street. He (Lucas Bravo, known from Emily in Paris) remains unnamed throughout the film, but his physique certainly grabs attention. Inspired, Nicole begins crafting an erotic tale about this enigmatic man––seemingly the closest she will come to a romantic adventure this summer, until her flatmate Ruby (Souhelia Yacoub), an uninhibited camgirl, strikes up a conversation with him. Soon, with the erratic presence of their actress friend Èlise (Merlant), the three of them find themselves heading to his apartment for a party. However, as is common in a sweltering nude photographer’s studio, things take a turn for the worse.

      A comedy of mistakes runs alongside a painfully authentic narrative about rape: these two conflicting aspects of existence are what the three women must confront throughout the film. Merlant exhibits great empathy as a director, and with assistance from Céline Sciamma––who is credited as a collaborator on the script––she effectively addresses feminism while navigating between absurdity and grotesqueness. Cinematographer Evgenia Alexandrova captures the women both individually and collectively with equal care in long shots and close-ups; the gradual development of their shared strength is mirrored in both interior and exterior scenes, with the trio’s central positioning commanding attention.

      Visually, The Balconettes bursts with colors and textures reminiscent of Almodóvar, and while the absurdity of some comedic moments may come as a shock––you won’t believe what happens to the neighbor’s penis, for instance––Merlant maintains a strong focus on the political message against abuse and violence. The film incorporates some rape-revenge tropes, but it notably avoids the pitfall of vilification for its own sake. Merlant understands that women don’t need to belittle men to reclaim their bodies or assert their equality, making her an exceptional director for such a genre blend. That said, I personally would refrain from looking through my neighbor’s window for now.

      The Balconettes premiered at the 2024 Cannes Film Festival.