Thrumming with energy—thanks to vivacious filmmaking from director Lola Quivoron and a ferocious lead performance by newcomer Julie Ledru—Rodeo takes place within the world of underground motocross in the suburbs of Paris. Suffocated by her family in their cramped apartment, Julia (Ledru) finds freedom by stealing bikes from unsuspecting suburbanites who are selling them on Internet sites like Craigslist. Posing as a harmless, interested party, she talks the sellers into letting her take a test drive, then roars off with her prize.
Eventually, Julia falls in with a collection of riders who hang out in a cluttered repair shop. She soon suspects the shop may be a front for activities even more illicit than evading police while flying down freeways, front wheels popping up and pointing to the sky like middle fingers. Rodeo feels like a Fast and Furious film that’s been stripped for its flashy parts, leaving behind something raw, dangerous, and real.
Quivoron, who also wrote the script, shows an impressive ability to shift filmmaking gears, especially in a feature debut. Rodeo opens with intentional chaos, as Julia rages across the apartment complex in search of the person who stole her bike, the camera jostling around her face and struggling to keep up while she rampages through hallways and down stairs. Yet just when you think you’re in for nearly two hours of verite intensity, Quivoron and cinematographer Raphael Vandenbussche pull back a bit. As Rodeo proceeds, each riding scene that follows has its own, individual aesthetic. After Julia steals a bike from an unsuspecting suburbanite at the start, the camera captures her ride with a series of smooth, stable shots, suggesting that it’s only here—speeding down the road with wild abandon—where she feels calm. In other scenes, the camera and editing is more active, putting us directly in the flow of Julia and her fellow riders. One of my favorite shots comes after Julia has stolen another bike; we don’t see the theft itself, only Julia far ahead of us on an open road, the camera slowly soaring toward her, as if we’re trying to catch a glimpse of a majestic bird before it disappears.
Of course, Julia’s freedom—given the illegality it involves—comes with risks and costs, which the film inevitably enfolds. Off her bike, Ledru proves to be more than a magnetically rough-hewn presence, even hitting notes of longing and melancholy as Julia grows closer to the girlfriend (Antonia Buresi) of the gang’s leader. In a genre nod, Rodeo leads to a big heist, where Quivoron makes her boldest move yet. I won’t give that away, except to say that the director shifts into yet another gear, one that propels her film into an ambiguous, metaphysical space. It will likely leave some audiences frustrated, but I found it to be tragically sublime.
(3/15/2023)