Since Miu Miu launched Women's Tales in 2011, the short film series has highlighted a total of 12 female directors. The thirteenth whispers the story of a match, one night, at a stand up comedy show; a match between two women similar in their approach to femininity in today's changing world: facing love, gentrification, aging and celebrity, those 'quaint' ladies could only be cynical, romantic and immeasurably funny – so dark humour is their signature.
In making this short-film for Miu Miu, Chloé Sevigny tends to capture what's being a woman in 2017, and what's behind being a celebrity. It all started with a crush for Carmen Lynch, a woman who does stand up comedy in New York. What pleases at first is her gaze, her talking eyes. Endowed with an ironic and squeaky touch of humour, Carmen was coincidentally exploring Chloé Sevigny's questionings – celebrity, femininity, ego, love and loneliness in a blindly changing world. Whereupon, the script was developed by Carmen writing her own stand up material, and Chloé building around the skeleton of the film.
The result is as melancholic as amusing. Miu Miu's pop and colourful universe embraces the roguish Carmen Lynch along her peregrinations – fashion is a game after all, a game of characters. Being on stage also means acting, and acting obviously means metamorphosing. Metamorphosing the current issues of age, of a whole life put in perspective with what's normal. Here, Carmen Lynch covers a broad spectrum of issues: religion, online dating, hope and 'others'. But what strikes in this story is the loneliness of Carmen Lynch. If the artist on the road is often alone, does succeeding in doing what you love also mean feeling irredeemably lonely?
The result is as melancholic as amusing. Miu Miu's pop and colourful universe embraces the roguish Carmen Lynch along her peregrinations – fashion is a game after all, a game of characters. Being on stage also means acting, and acting obviously means metamorphosing. Metamorphosing the current issues of age, of a whole life put in perspective with what's normal. Here, Carmen Lynch covers a broad spectrum of issues: religion, online dating, hope and 'others'. But what strikes in this story is the loneliness of Carmen Lynch. If the artist on the road is often alone, does succeeding in doing what you love also mean feeling irredeemably lonely?