SAINT OMER is a movie that is downright daring in its patience.

The film tells the tale of a young Senegalese woman in France standing trial for a shocking act. The story unfolds almost entirely within the courtroom where she faces justice, and is told through by way of long takes as questions are asked and answers are supplied.

Our conduit for the tale is a young University professor, often seeing the proceedings through her own complicated relationships, along with her own studies and retelling of the Medea myth. She is our north star guiding us through the dark of the story’s night,

SAINT OMER is less a story concerned with whether or not the accused did what she stands accused of doing than it is the emotional and psychological scars she carries. It wants us to stand beside her and listen to the accusations, asking ourselves if we’d have the strength to look our accuser in the eye and tell them what they have decided that they need to know.

This extraordinary picture wants us to consider the nature of shame, and think about the way that wounds and markings can be physically temporary while being psychologically long-lasting. Even the gathered witnesses to the proceedings begin to take on the trauma of the accused – often looking us square in the eye and daring us to look away.

Alice Diop’s first fictional feature is a meditation on motherhood, and the way mothers and daughters carry pieces of each-other throughout their lives. One’s baggage becomes the other’s baggage, and it always seems to get passed along. The film is a long, dark, walk to the water that mercifully that holds our hand as we face our own demons and ask ourselves what we would do if it was our choice to make.

The film looks us in the eye as it asks its difficult questions – and has enough respect for us not to look away as we search our soul for answers.