What makes a good mother? Is it who mothered you? Your life experience? Instincts? Or is it something indefinable, a thing you will not know until you become one? This question is asked, if not answered, by Alice Douard’s Love Letters. But every story about mothers (or any parents) has a different idea behind it, probably because we all have different mothers. This story, in some ways, follows the director’s own experience with the adoption process in France.
Céline (Ella Rumpf) and Nadia (Monia Chokri) are a married lesbian couple. They have decided, as many couples do, to have a child. But, of course, it is much more complex than for straight couples. They were able to get married in France, but had to leave the country in order to access In Vitro Fertilization (IVF) for Nadia. Plus, despite their marriage, Céline has no automatic rights to their child after birth. That is, unless she adopts the child. And even the adoption process is difficult. It will take most of a year and will necessitate several letters to be written in support of her relationship with the child.
Given the plot, it would be very easy for this to become excessively focused on how unfair the system is towards people who do not fit the simple mold of being a straight couple. And yes, it is deeply unfair, but Love Letters is much more concerned with what this particular couple has to do in reaction to the unfairness. It is one thing to rail against unfair treatment, but if Céline and Nadia want a child, they must play by the equally unfair rules.

The decision, from screenwriters Douard and Laurette Polmanss, to focus the perspective on Céline, who is not pregnant, is a seriously smart one, because it allows everyone, regardless of gender or orientation, to easily relate. It must be a difficult place to be, especially for a woman, to be in line to parent a child without the concern and care from others that comes from visual signs of pregnancy. Certainly, it helps that Rumpf is immensely talented, being able to subtly communicate complexity with minimal dialogue. And yet, they also manage not to give Nadia and, by extension, their relationship, short shrift. Both of these women seem like actual, living humans and not simply an extension of political ideology. They love, they disagree, they make up, they move forward together, even when things are difficult.
The camerawork, helmed by cinematographer Jacques Girault, is organized nearly in documentary style. It feels both professional and deeply intimate, which is demanded by the subject material. If we see one of the two women as villains in any way, none of this holds together. But as Céline and Nadia move through their trials and tribulations, including reconnecting with Céline’s mother, Marguerite (Noémie Lvovsky), there are beautiful imperfections shown that make them whole, and better, together.

The mother-daughter relationship between Marguerite and Céline, which seems distant at its introduction, might have the most important interactions in the film. One might expect a knock-down, drag-out fight, an explosive moment that either severs the relationship or fixes all of the problems of a long life, both together and apart. But unlike most films, Douard chooses to focus on a sense of reality. Marguerite, being a successful musician, was not present for much of Céline’s childhood, and their relationship suffered. She is not evil or terribly manipulative; she is simply a woman who did not fit the exact mold of Mother.
Love Letters is clearly a deeply personal story, but one that is important to consider, especially for those who have never faced this kind of difficulty, and likely never will. The film incites a sense of empathy without ever treading in the easy waters of guilt. The truth that Love Letters analyzes is that the idea of fitting the prescribed definition of anything is a useless enterprise. Someone could appear to be the perfect mother, but behind closed doors is the worst imaginable. Despite not being the one to give birth, despite not having a perfect example of maternal care, who is to say that Céline will not be an incredible caretaker? What right does a government have to make her work so hard for what is a right for many men and women?
Love Letters held its World Premiere in the Special Screenings section of the 2025 Cannes Film Festival.
Director: Alice Douard
Screenwriters: Alice Douard, Laurette Polmanss
Rated: NR
Runtime: 97m
Love Letters is clearly a deeply personal story, but one that is important to consider, especially for those who have never faced this kind of difficulty, and likely never will. The film incites a sense of empathy without ever treading in the easy waters of guilt.
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GVN Rating 8
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Dave is a lifelong film fan who really got his start in the independent film heyday of the 90’s. Since then, he has tried to branch out into arthouse, international, and avant garde film. Despite that, he still enjoys a good romcom or action movie. His goal is to always expand his horizons, through writing and watching new movies.