In the last three weeks I have been ferociously listening to Charli xcx’s Brat on repeat. The constant stream of posts with that Ecto-Cooler color palette flooding my social feeds tells me I'm not alone, nor am I special. But what has surprised me is that beyond the catchy and often frivolous (complimentary) lyrics that have been rattling around in my brain (bumpin that!) is how deeply the album has brought up so many feelings about being a woman, aka a girl. When I first heard "I Think About It All The Time," Charli's self-reflective ballad about the expectations and fears of motherhood, it immediately brought to mind No Doubt's "Simple Kind of Life," one of Gwen's most confessional tracks and a personal favorite. I was sitting in my bedroom when I first heard this song, and at seventeen I both thought I was an adult and felt very much like a girl lost in the world. I'd experienced the rush of something very close to love and the unbearable weight of heartache, and every word Gwen sang hit like a crushing salty tide. She spoke not only of her obsessive love (relatable) but her fears and how she might let herself down if she didn't fulfill an unspoken mandate of being a mom. At 41, I firmly know that I am not interested in having children, but who knew this audacious hyper-pop album would stir up these twenty-four-year-old feelings? Forgot that inside the woman, there's still a young girl from Philly.
This Brat album rollout, of which I have zero notes, also brought to mind the expectations of women, which often start with likability even before we understand what that means. Charli's journey to this album played out like a burner account that we all had the log-in to. She was herself, and didn't feed into the tropes we're now used to seeing forced on our female pop stars. She was funny, vulnerable, unrehearsed, and a little messy, leaving behind the media training her peers have mastered much to their demise (see: Radical Optimism). All of these thoughts led me to watch Zazie dans le Métro, an early film of Louis Malle (Elevator to the Gallows, Atlantic City, My Dinner with Andre, the controversial Pretty Baby) and from my history with him, by far his most absurd. Zazie is a film that has been in the waiting room of my Criterion Channel list for months and something subconsciously told me it was time.
Based on the Raymond Queneau novel of the same name, the film revolves around Zazie, a rude and foul-mouthed 10-year-old. She approaches most situations with a skepticism that implies she's been through it all, yet she holds the innocence of a baby seeing her reflection for the first time. The film is hard to explain, but so that you don't go in completely blind, I'll share some top notes. Zazie's mother leaves her with her Uncle for a few days, and Zazie's only wish - to ride the subway - is darted by a Transit strike. This leads the bored child to see how much she can annoy and challenge the adults in her orbit. The film features scenes of Chaplin-esque slapstick and fantasy, which sometimes devolve into Looney Tunes-esque silliness. A piano actually falls on someone, and it works within the context of the film. Throughout the film, adults are disturbed and revolted by this aggressive "little girl." They call her a brat (bumpin' that!) and don't know how to respond to her lack of manners, but really her lack of fear of impressing or charming them.
An original film card found at Posteritati
Catherine Demongeot delivers Zazie's lines with an unflinching ease as if she wrote them herself, and she looks directly into the camera in a way that is so commanding yet charming due to her toothy grin. She (kinda) knows who she is and what she's doing. Complex themes are set against surrealist moments and a lush color palette thanks to another filmmaker I love, William Klein, who contributed creative direction on the film. At moments when the film gets close to burning its own hand with its themes, a wall falls, a sound effect blares, or a scene switches tone to make sure you're reminded it's just a movie. The use of color creates a striking contrast between the characters. Zazie stands out in a vibrant tomato-red turtleneck, schoolgirl skirt, and Mary Janes, while her aunt, Albertine is nearly always cloaked in head-to-toe pastels, including a matching headband. One lingering element from the film is Klein's use of vibrant wheat paste posters. Their explosive lettering feels eerily similar to the warped and distorted text we see generated by modern AI drawing platforms. Made in 1960, what could Klein have possibly known about the future of art and technology?
Zazie’s Look – 1. Cotton Crewneck, Drakes 2. Astra Skirt in Grey, Sandy Liang 3. Rose Mary Jane in Black, Repetto, 4. Martin Jeans, APC 5. The Everyday Sock, Comme Si
Beyond Zazie, I found her aunt Albertine (Carla Marlier, seen above) an interesting counterpoint to Zazie's character. A woman of few words, Albertine glides through scenes with a distant gaze, her unwavering support for her husband and the leads a testament to her quiet strength. There's the subtlest smile at the corner of her lips during moments when she’s asserting herself. Zazie could learn something from her, and her from Zazie, but both hold spaces that woman can and should occupy. As a child of divorce I don’t think I’ll ever outgrow my perfectionism or the self placed expectations I feel even at this age, but seeing Zazie raise hell without fear gave me a new sense of assurance. Its ok to be unlikable, its ok to ask questions and sometimes it’s ok to be a brat.