Sixteen-year-old Lucia (Jara Sofija Ostan) is quiet and introspective. She communicates with few words, often allowing a shy yet warm and captivating smile to convey her innermost emotions. She studies in an all-girls Catholic institution in Ljubljana, the sleepy Slovenian capital. She sings in the school choir, where she befriends the far more extroverted Ana Maria (Lucia Mina Švajger) and Klara (Staša Popović). Despite their different personalities, the three students estsblish a genuine bond. Their favourite pastime is to gaze at the foreign builders, particularly a muscular and handsome young man of an undisclosed nationality. They talk gleefully about sex and giggle.
Extensive scenes take place in the choir room, taking up a significant chunk of this 90-minute drama. The girls train very hard in order to improve their voice. They must give their heart and soul to an occupation deemed respectful and dignified. Their male conductor (Saša Tabaković) is kind and yet demanding, occasionally resorting to more oppressive tactics. Despite the verdant gardens, and the breezy and spacious rooms, it is gloomy tradition that prevails in this environment. And any sort of subversive behaviour is severely frowned upon. The inability to sing is a major breach of the rules, Lucia learns the hard way. Women should be immaculate and compliant. A mere lifting of the dress to knee-level earns our protagonist a very harsh reproach: “if you don’t conform, things will fall apart”.
Lucia’s desire to come of age expresses itself in very subtle ways. She insists in wearing lipstick, a gesture for which her formidable mother will chastise her. She glimpses at a man in the nude bathing in the local pond. Ana Maria and Klara convince her to take part in a truth or dare game, where the girls have the opportunity to grasp intimacy and perhaps even same-sex affection. Refreshingly, Little Trouble Girls portrays the libidinous teenage gaze from the female perspective. In what’s probably the film’s best scene, Ana Maria and Lucia steal a sweaty cloth from the one of the builders, and then run like the wind. This is perhaps the closest they have been to the male anatomy.
A human-size statue of the Virgin Mary represents castration. Due to poor transportation, the item arrives at the school with severed hands. Which can only be a good thing. That will stop her from putting lipstick on, lifting her dress, or… dare I say… masturbating. In this conservative environment, it is preferable that a woman remains cold as stone, and immobile as a sculpture.
Boasting young performances, Urška Djukić’s debut feature is a heartfelt and convincing endeavour. it just lacks a little stamina and determination, particularly in the final third. The resolution is a little cumbersome, as Lucia seeks redemption in a place Ana Maria and Klara would most likely disapprove. Most crucially, the movie offers no significant takeaway. Some of the imagery is tender and tactile, however some of the symbolism are extremely lame and predictable. Parallels between vaginas and flowers are neither inspiring nor imaginative.
Little Trouble Girls premiered in the brand new Perspectives section of the 75th Berlin International Film Festival, when this piece was originally written. Also showing at Tiff Romania, Karlovy Vary and Sarajevo. In cinemas on Friday, August 29th. On BFI Player on Monday, October 21st.
