Review
GIRL. Focuses on Psychological and Corporeal Struggle
Girl is a compassionate yet precise study of transgender identity, highlighting the challenges of self-acceptance and navigating daily life.
The representation of LGBTQ themes has steadily grown in cinema over the years, often yielding works of considerable quality. Tackling socially or morally engaged topics is important in itself, of course, but the measure of a film’s success lies not simply in what it addresses, but how it does so. This encompasses both formal aspects — the narrative structure, visual composition, and cinematic language deployed around complex subject matter — as well as the sensitivity with which non-heteronormative characters are treated. It is all too easy to slip into condescension, oversimplify the subject, or overlook the full spectrum of context. Fortunately, Belgian debutant Lukas Dhont, with his film Girl, focused on the experience of a transgender teenager, avoided these pitfalls entirely.
The result is a film that can rightfully be considered one of the most compelling explorations of identity and social reality in recent years. The story centers on fifteen-year-old Lara, the titular girl aspiring to become a professional ballet dancer. At the start, she relocates with her father and younger brother to a new city to attend her dream school, joining the girls’ ballet division on a probationary basis. The challenges of grueling training and adjusting to a new environment are compounded by her body — Lara was assigned male at birth. Despite hormone therapy, her physicality continues to complicate her training and creates gaps in mastering the feminine ballet technique she strives to perfect.

Dhont’s film focuses on this psychological and corporeal struggle, where dreams of professional ballet intersect with the desire to inhabit a female identity fully. From this restrained plot emerges a profound psychological study of Lara, attentive to the nuances of self-perception and inner conflict.
The perspective Dhont adopts internalizes the narrative, capturing subtle emotional tensions and the quiet suffering of his protagonist. Unlike many films in the LGBTQ canon, Girl avoids sensationalized social confrontations. There is no overt hostility from family, peers, or institutions; instead, Lara’s predicament is, on the surface, an ideal one. Her father is supportive, providing medical and psychological care, the ballet school does not hinder her training, and her classmates engage with her respectfully. Yet this environment does not shield her from the distress caused by her body.

The tension stems not from external judgment but from Lara’s own self-imposed pressure — her fixation on achieving the physical and aesthetic ideal of femininity. The mirror becomes her antagonist: daily confrontations with her reflection reveal persistent male characteristics, generating an internalized strain that is as intense as any social oppression. Dhont weaves a narrative of subtle, mostly neutral everyday scenes, creating a delicate, intimate portrait of a transgender individual’s lived experience.
By removing the conventional context of societal oppression, Girl illuminates the internalized dynamics of gender identity. The central issue is gender dysphoria — the discomfort and alienation from one’s body. Dhont, together with Victor Polster in the lead role, conveys the complexity of this struggle through nuanced expressions and behaviors, capturing the profound incongruence between Lara’s self-perception and her physical form.

Polster’s performance makes Lara’s portrait deeply authentic. The teenage actor conveys both emotional and physical challenges with remarkable subtlety, his androgynous presence allowing a layered depiction of a person suspended between biology, identity, and personal expectation. His acting brings freshness to Dhont’s restrained storytelling, grounding the narrative in a corporeal realism and elevating it into a work of nuanced insight.
Dhont also successfully explores the cultural pressures inherent in constructing a gendered identity. Lara’s suppressed anguish is not simply the result of external prejudice (though minor instances of social friction appear subtly) but is rooted in her striving to embody an idealized femininity. Ballet, with its emphasis on delicate, feminine precision, becomes both a literal and symbolic medium for this pursuit, paralleling Lara’s internal journey toward aligning body and identity. Sequences of intense, painstaking practice, reminiscent of Black Swan, underscore not ambition for mastery alone but the struggle to reconcile physical form with selfhood.

Girl is therefore a compassionate yet precise study of transgender identity, highlighting the challenges of self-acceptance and navigating daily life. Its formal restraint allows the film to map the psychological landscape of its protagonist fully, using subtle intimacies and understated moments to convey deep emotional truths. Small gestures and seemingly banal interactions accumulate, intensifying the impact of key scenes and culminating in a quietly powerful, almost parabolic climax.
While Girl may be seen as a measured drama rather than a revelatory spectacle, its value lies in its ability to immerse viewers in Lara’s inner world. The filmmakers refrain from moralizing or constructing a sentimentalized narrative about non-heteronormative life, instead offering a work that succeeds both cinematically — as a subtle, intimate character study — and socially, as a lens into the complex emotional realities of transgender individuals.
