Saint Frances (2020)

There is a sense of familiarity to Saint Frances, on paper a comedy about a millennial struggling to find purpose and progression in her life. Yet in reality, Saint Frances is an understatedly brave and honest portrayal of the life of a young woman who doesn’t have it all worked out.

While 34 year old Bridget’s peers are starting families and developing their careers, she is working as a waitress, though soon finds a job as nanny to the precocious, wise-beyond-her-years Frannie. Bridget is simultaneously navigating an abortion and its aftermath, and working out the shape she wants her life to take.

Saint Frances is a perfectly paced insight into the messy realities of life. The characters are very human – they all make mistakes, constantly. There is complexity in each of them, including Frannie, who seems precocious, yet is learning from the women around her the importance of conversation and honesty.

Bridget’s mother summarises one of the main takeaways of the film, that if more women openly discussed the emotions, responsibilities and decisions, that are inextricably connected to womanhood, they would seem far less taboo. And this film should certainly inspire conversation, taking a compassionate, honest look into the aftermath of abortion and post-natal depression. It feels like a breath of fresh air, a thought-provoking and essential watch.

There are no great life changes, no great love stories and no eureka moments – the film doesn’t need them. Instead, the pivotal moments come in the form of Bridget and Maya standing up to judgmental strangers in the park and Bridget finding the words to express how she’s processed the summer’s events. Saint Frances isn’t just another offbeat comedy, it’s a compassionate and empowering celebration of the strength and resilience of women.