As we approach the March 2026 opening of the French Film Festival, I was given early access to Couture ahead of its Australian release, and what struck me immediately was how real it felt.

French cinema does this particularly well. It resists the urge to dramatise for effect. There are no sweeping crescendos, no overly polished arcs, no characters staged for perfection. Instead, we’re invited into something far more intimate — lives unfolding in what feels like real time.

And that realism becomes a powerful juxtaposition against the world the film inhabits: fashion, modelling, makeup, film — industries we so often imagine as immaculate and untouchable.

Written and directed by Alice Winocour, the film is anchored by three powerful female performances, Angelina Jolie brings a restrained, introspective presence to her role, allowing vulnerability to surface in the smallest shifts of expression. Opposite her, Lyna Khoudri carries a compelling intensity, ambitious yet fragile. Completing the trio, Anyier Anei adds emotional texture and tension.

The glamour is there. The beauty is undeniable. We are taken inside Chanel’s ateliers and office spaces, including the iconic mirrored staircase — that legendary vantage point from which collections have been observed for decades. It is as breathtaking as one would hope. We witness exquisite garments being constructed with precision and artistry. But we also see the labour — the seamstresses bent over their work, the time pressure, the tension behind each collection.

The camera lingers rather than performs. Conversations unfold without obvious narrative signposts. We observe three central women navigating careers that appear enviable from the outside, yet internally carry questions around wellbeing, ambition, purpose and fulfilment.

I particularly loved the subtle contrast between life in Paris and the United States, revealed largely through phone conversations between Jolie’s character and her husband and teenage daughter. The distance is emotional as much as geographical. The tension of motherhood and marriage existing alongside professional immersion is never overstated — but it’s superbly present.

What makes Couture compelling is that it refuses cliché. It does not frame success as triumph, nor struggle as tragedy. Instead, it allows time for complexity.

These women are not icons. They are not archetypes. They are human.

And perhaps that is the most subversive thing of all — in a world built on illusion, the film chooses truth. And that’s what I love about French cinema.