" Peau d’homme " puts you in someone else's skin, literally A queer musical comedy with powerful themes, driven by biting irony
The Giornate degli Autori, a parallel and independent section of the Venice Film Festival, chose the wilder, most unusual, playful, funny, and hilarious title imaginable to close its lineup. Peau d’homme is an adaptation directed by Léa Domenach and co-written with screenwriter Clémence Dargent—a project that underwent a long journey, moving from print to stage before finally landing on the big screen.
Originally a 2020 graphic novel written by Hubert and illustrated by Zanzim, Peau d’homme was subsequently adapted into a stage play featuring stars like Laure Calamy, a staple of French cinema and key cast member of the hit series Call My Agent!. Now, Princess Blanche's story arrives in theaters while keeping the musical elements that defined the play, turning it into a full-fledged movie musical. In this modern fairytale set around the Renaissance—as the work itself implies—the protagonist is arranged to be married. However, her father's choice falls upon Melchior, an army colonel with rough ways and a somewhat inscrutable demeanor. This decision prompts the young woman to don the titular man's skin to get close to him and know him better. And no, that isn't a figure of speech.
Her godmother Yolande—played by none other than French screen icon Catherine Deneuve—hands the young noblewoman a disguise that does not merely make her look like a man: it literally turns her into one. Through this subterfuge, Blanche discovers facets of Melchior that would have otherwise remained hidden, starting with his attraction to men. The story thus weaves together gender discourse and the unfolding of a female empowerment that the protagonist had never contemplated. Stepping into someone else's shoes—in every sense of the word—makes her realize how men are treated and how vastly different it is from the treatment reserved for women. This is one of the reasons she takes a liking to living in the skin of cousin Léonard, the persona she adopts in male form, not to mention that it is under this appearance that Melchior falls in love with her. Or rather, with him...
There are plenty of laughs in Peau d’homme. We laugh because Blanche's misadventures mirror those of countless women who have been discredited, ignored, deemed foolish or easy, unloved, or viewed as weak and unworthy. We laugh because the question of gender and the vibrant queerness offered by the film serve as a lens through which to view the past and realize that the present still carries the very same prejudices. While we no longer blame homosexuals for droughts today (as happens in the film), we still deny them safeguards, protections, and rights. The brilliant stroke of Peau d’homme lies in its social critique, yet it prioritizes imagination, playfulness, and humor. Its themes remain deeply relevant despite the period setting, resulting in a work that, like classic fairytales, maintains a creative, courageous, and irreverent spirit.
By sticking to the graphic novel's plot while leaning on its theatrical experience, the screenplay proves exceptionally well-crafted. Unfortunately, it is penalized by its visual execution, leaving one to wonder how much more compelling it could have been with a more refined directorial vision and a production that didn't gear it toward streaming platforms from the start—Disney+ being among the opening logos. This lack of stylistic flair is thankfully offset by the quality of the writing, strong performances (Blanche is played by singer Claire Pommet, known as Pomme), and the central conceit of this man's skin that is put on, taken off, lent, and worn. Catherine Deneuve's casting is no accident either, as she previously starred in Jacques Demy's whimsical 1970 fairytale Donkey Skin (Peau d'âne).
It is a unique piece to close an event like Giornate degli Autori, where it was screened out of competition. A refreshing change of pace for the festival circuit, where it acts as a total wild card. A comedy that literally puts you in someone else's skin—an exercise that, beyond being educational, turns out to be immensely entertaining.
