Monia Chokri and Alice Douard reflect on their collaboration in Love Letters, an intimate, romantic, and political comedy that unfolds within a remarkable, shimmering aesthetic.
It has become a true mark of excellence on a film’s résumé: the Critics’ Week label. Under the direction of Ava Cahen, who has led the section since 2021, this parallel strand of the Cannes Film Festival has established itself as a breeding ground for young filmmakers whose bold and powerful first or second features linger in both memory and vision. Aftersun (2022), Summer Scars (2022), Simon of the Mountain (2024), A Useful Ghost (2025), Imago (2025), and Left-Handed Girl (2025) are all eloquent examples—distinct works of contemporary cinema that are free, and inventive.
Such is certainly the case with Alice Douard’s debut feature. Winner of the César for Best Short Film in 2022 for L’Attente, she brings together two remarkable actresses to portray a lesbian couple preparing for the arrival of their first child in Love Letters.
Ella Rumpf and Monia Chokri deliver beautifully nuanced performances, forming a tender, pioneering couple who turn to assisted reproduction in France in 2014—at a time when the promise of equality embodied by the Taubira law, which opened marriage and adoption to same-sex couples, was still struggling to take shape in practice. Their characters, Céline and Nadia, are trailblazers navigating the early days of complex procedures, while the questions surrounding pregnancy and impending parenthood already stir their share of doubts, anxieties, and introspection.
On the occasion of the film’s Canadian premiere, presented as part of the 31st edition of CINEMANIA, I had the pleasure of speaking with director Alice Douard, joined by local favorite actress and filmmaker Monia Chokri.
“We wanted so much for this couple to feel real”
One of the film’s strengths lies in its delicate yet steadfast balance between two characters facing very different stakes: one carries the couple’s child, while the other struggles to assert her future role as a mother—a status she will only be able to claim legally twelve to eighteen months after the birth. “That was one of the great challenges of the script,” admits Alice Douard. “The question was how to maintain the perspective of the one who isn’t pregnant […] while still creating a true couple’s film,” she explains.
The director thus sought to strike the right balance between Ella Rumpf—particularly moving and magnetic on screen as the expectant mother who isn’t pregnant—and Monia Chokri, literally embodying her character through a heavy pregnancy prosthetic. “When I cast Monia, I knew she would have a powerful presence—and that was almost the challenge: I wondered if she might take up too much space compared to Ella.”
Those doubts quickly disappeared thanks to the palpable chemistry between the two actresses, as Monia Chokri recalls: “It’s true that with Ella, we wanted so much for this couple to feel real. We actually really loved each other. […] Our friendship became almost fusion-like. We were very close, very tactile.”
A successful interplay of emotions
And even if Ella Rumpf’s character remains the emotional core of the story, Monia Chokri brings such vitality and presence that she seems to radiate far beyond her scenes. “I find [Monia is] powerful and present enough that, even off-screen, she’s still there. And that’s not something every actress can do,” says the director admiringly.
Alice Douard also achieves balance through her deft shifts in tone. Drama and comedy intertwine seamlessly: the drama never becomes too heavy, and the comedy never slips into silliness. The two complement and enhance each other. As Monia Chokri reminds us, “They say comedy is drama, plus time.”
“I wanted the film, at times, to make you want to fall in love—to feel like it’s a romance,” says Alice Douard. “At other times, I wanted people to laugh at the situation, and then to be moved.” That interplay of emotions, she confides, “was the film’s great challenge.”
To achieve that equilibrium, the director could rely on her deeply committed actresses. “She gave us the space to exist within the film,” says Monia Chokri of Alice Douard, “to infuse the story with a touch of whimsy wherever we could find it—in this narrative that wasn’t necessarily tragic, but could easily become deeply dramatic.”
The aesthetic of a contemporary memory
A film of actresses, certainly—but not only that. What stands out in Love Letters is also its formal experimentation, visual ingenuity, and the way Alice Douard shapes a singular aesthetic that wraps the story in a gentle nostalgia. Within the intimate bubble that unfolds between the characters, a bustling Paris seems to fade away, held at a distance. A soft halo enhances the lights, as if we were seeing reality through slightly misted eyes, weighed down by emotion or memory.
The film thus succeeds in weaving together two scales: that of a society in motion, still struggling to grasp the concrete implications of the Taubira law on same-sex couples’ lives, and the more delicate, intimate sphere of Céline and Nadia—the true heart of the film.
“I think that when you make a film about a subject, as is the case here, you mustn’t fall into a film without form. I wanted to make a proper cinematic film. It’s my first feature, and I wanted it to be a real piece of cinema,” Alice Douard explains, describing the extensive preparation with her director of photography, Jacques Girault. “I told him I wanted this film to feel like a photo taken with a disposable Kodak and a flash,” the director adds. “This film is like a contemporary memory. So we aimed for very directed lighting on the faces, to evoke the idea of a flash.”
Alice Douard also wanted to explore “a slightly metallic image, with gleaming highlights.” To achieve this effect, the team devised an original technique: “We worked with a bounce: Jacques would light metal plates that reflected the light onto the actresses.” This is what gives the film its distinctive texture, illuminating faces in a way rarely seen.
A filmmaker to watch
The direction also captivates through its camera movements, sometimes remarkable: the DJ set scenes—Ella Rumpf’s character’s profession—are filmed with a soft, sensual, and poetic rhythm, while a swirling camera captures, in a buoyant, almost weightless motion, the emotionally charged yet tense reunion between Ella’s character and her mother, played by Noémie Lvovsky.
“And then we explored camera movements,” Alice Douard continues. “The idea was always to mix different techniques depending on the sequence. Since the film moves through many emotions and follows the protagonist’s inner journey, we varied our approaches.”
The cinematography, both lively and consistently inventive, combined with remarkable sets discovered after extensive scouting, almost makes you forget that the film primarily takes place indoors. “The challenge of the film is that it’s mostly apartments, hospitals… On paper, we thought it might be very uncinematic, all these locations. So we tried to find the cinema in each setting. Location scouting was therefore crucial, and truly fascinating,” Alice Douard explains.
Her debut feature is a success, and Monia Chokri does not fail to praise her director and collaborator: “I find her very intelligent, calm, and profound. It’s her first feature, but I never sensed any nervousness from her. Even when she occasionally doubted, she remained completely in control.” The actress continues, admiringly: “She’s always open to suggestions, she thinks things through with us, and then at some point, she makes a decision. And that, to me, is the mark of a great director.”
Love Letters will hit French theaters on November 19 and Quebec cinemas on December 25. We wish it the success it deserves, allowing Alice Douard to continue her trajectory and fully assert her place in the landscape of French cinema.
