A big prize-winner at the Berlin and Tribeca film festivals, Little Trouble Girls is named for a Sonic Youth song and underpinned by the same cryptic, feminised energy that defined Kim Gordon’s music.
The Slovenian film-maker Urska Djukic reimagines the dog-eared trope of the oppressed Catholic girl’s sexual awakening with haunting visual complexity: multiple Marian grottos, menstrual rituals, old wives’ tales and vaginal imagery abound as 16-year-old Lucija (Jara Sofija Ostan), a shy, underdeveloped teen whose world and body are changing, journeys to rural Italy for a convent choir retreat.
Lucija is caught between two forces: the virginal purity demanded by her religious upbringing and the messy, hormonal chaos of adolescence. Her closest confidante, the charismatic Ana-Marija (Mina Svajger), offers lipstick and Sapphic teasing, but the friendship proves rocky.
Elsewhere, the girls’ prim choirmaster, Bojan (Sasa Tabakovic) turns on Lucija when she confides her sexual turmoil with a ferocity that makes the viewer yearn for the comparative chill of JK Simmons’s tutor in Whiplash.
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Thematically, religiosity and carnality make for easy bedfellows. The film draws its erotic charge from lush visuals and the simmering tension of forbidden desires. A kiss on the lips of a Virgin Mary statue during a game of truth or dare is both sacrilegious and heartfelt. A construction worker’s stolen T-shirt becomes a sacred object.
Working with the cinematographer Lev Predan Kowarski and the sound design of Miha Jaramaz, Djukic heightens every uncertain flutter with close-ups and choral breathing exercises. The pronounced sensorial effects approximate Lucija’s swooning adolescent fervour.
Djukic’s feature debut echoes the sensitivities of Céline Sciamma’s early coming-of-age stories but with a bold, cinematic bent. The delicate script, by the director and Maria Bohr, zeroes in on the cruelty of peers and the failings of adult guidance before the heroine dusts herself down and sets off for the future on roller skates.
