When Liane (Malou Khebizi) says she wants to be “the French Kim Kardashian,” it’s easy to see her as delusional, or, at the very least, operating with a skewed value system. The reality of Liane’s life has not set her up for success of the influencer variety or any other kind. She lives in what appears to be a low-income housing project in Fréjus, surrounded by a wasteland of concrete and dried-up canals. Her mother (Andréa Bescond) is in and out of bed with different “sugar daddies,” and her grade school-aged sister Alicia (Ashley Romano) clearly needs looking after. Liane is consumed by a desire to transcend her circumstances and enter a magical realm where she will be “seen.” It’s more obsession than goal. She can barely tolerate life on this plane. Evoking this state of mind is one of the things that “Wild Diamond,” the debut feature from director Agathe Riedinger, does really well.
“Wild Diamond” is an extremely intimate film in that it never leaves Liane’s side. Other people are barely real to her, although she loves her sister, she loves her friends, and she even has a crush on a guy (Idir Azougli). But the pull of the world beckoning her through her phone, the world where she will be seen and loved, is too strong. Her friends tease her, and Liane flies off the handle. She has had breast augmentation surgery, injected hyaluronic acid into her lips, and wants to get a Brazilian butt lift. Liane barely has a job, and a career counselor looks worried when she hears Liane talk about being an “influencer”. Liane posts pictures of herself on Instagram, and the comments pour in, some rapturous, some hostile, some just weird. She sends in a tape to a casting agent looking for participants on a reality show called Miracle Island. Miracle Island is going to be Liane’s ticket out; she knows it.
The impact of “influencer culture” on vulnerable minds is fertile ground for storytelling, and films like the excellent “Ingrid Goes West” take the subject into a dark satirical space. “Wild Diamond” is more tactile. Liane’s desire for something so ephemeral and unattainable connects to other stories that took place before social media. Fame is fame, no matter the platform. In “King of Comedy,” Rupert Pupkin wants to be a famous comedian/late-night talk show host. Success in the entertainment field is not what drives him. For him, it’s more about the thrill of being perceived. If others do not perceive you, how do you know you exist? Liane’s single-minded fixation is reminiscent of Sara Goldfarb (Ellen Burstyn) in “Requiem for a Dream,” whose dreams of being a game show contestant tilt into madness. Liane’s state of mind is not as dire as Sara’s, but there is still a joyless aspect to her pursuit, making it seem fragile and threatened. In “The Bling Ring,” there’s a startling moment when Rebecca (Katie Chang), after breaking into Paris Hilton’s house, stands at the vanity mirror and drifts off into a trance, drawn to her reflection and dazzled by what she sees. Liane’s relationship with her dreams is like this. She’s a tough, smart girl. You worry for her.
Cinematographer Noé Bach lends Liane and her world a woozy, dream-like quality, conveying an almost dissociated state, as Liane’s fantasies are more tangible than reality. “Wild Diamond” is visually intense. There’s a sequence in a nightclub where Liane is stopped dead in her tracks by a girl dancing on a platform. Liane is so dazzled by the girl’s beauty and power, up there in front of everyone, she practically falls upward into the image before her eyes. Bach and Riedinger craft this sequence and others to place us wholly in Liane’s point of view. It’s mesmerizing.
There’s a meandering quality to “Wild Diamond,” partly because the film follows Liane around so closely throughout a couple of days. Because the cinematography is so strong and Khebizi is so interesting to watch, “Wild Diamond” doesn’t need a plot; however, the film would have benefited from a bit more structure. The religious aspect of Liane’s psychology remains unexplored, despite being explicit in the script and Khebizi’s performance. When Liane talks to her followers, she uses fanatical religious language, like she’s a saint galloping onto a battlefield: “I walk with the Lord. I am a soldier. We’ll get revenge!” I don’t watch a lot of influencer content, so maybe all influencers talk like this as they show off their short-shorts and hair extensions? The way Liane glues stolen rhinestones onto her platform stripper heels has a sacral, ritualistic quality; her fingers linger, the glue hovering in drops, transforming cheap shoes into something magical.
Those stones may be cheap, but to Liane, they are “the substance of things hoped for.” This could be seen as either tragic or hopeful, depending on your perspective. “Wild Diamond” doesn’t judge or look down on its main character and doesn’t try to control how we view her. This is a welcome rarity.
