Other People’s Children Beautifully Captures the Conflict of Having Kids

The concept of a “biological clock” is being grappled with across disciplines, including reproductive science, workplace environments and, of course, the arts. Earlier this month, writer-director Alexis Jacknow’s Hulu original horror film Clock combatted the dangers of the social pressure for women to reproduce during a designated fertility window. Now, French director Rebecca Zlotowski tackles the subject with grace and levity, undoubtedly impacted by her own experience as a child-free woman in her 40s. Her film Other People’s Children doesn’t merely focus on a woman weighing her options when it comes to the prospect of motherhood; it also exemplifies the myriad ways that we can foster genuine, compassionate bonds with kids—particularly those acting outside the “parent” label.

Fortysomething Rachel (a dazzling Virginie Efira) is a high school teacher in Paris who, by all accounts, is living her best life. She maintains a friendly-enough relationship with her ex-husband (Henri-Noël Tabary), is devoted to her dad (Michel Zlotowski, the filmmaker’s father who’s appeared in a few of her earlier films) and sister Louana (Yamée Couture) and has recently begun to learn to play guitar. It’s during one of her weekly lessons that she finally goes out for a drink with Ali (Roschdy Zem), a fellow student whose presence has encouraged Rebecca’s own perfect attendance. He makes her laugh, they hit it off and eventually become lovers. As their relationship escalates, Ali tells Rachel about his 4-year-old daughter, Leila (Callie Ferreira-Goncalves), who he maintains full custody of. When a suitable amount of time passes, Ali decides that it would be appropriate for Rachel and Leila to meet. Rachel immediately falls in love with the big-cheeked, precocious child, savoring her weekly responsibility of picking Leila up from judo class. She soon learns, however, that no amount of love she gives the child can eclipse what she receives from her own mother, Alice (Chiara Mastroianni), even if Rachel appears to be more invested in the child’s well-being on a day to day basis.

Interestingly, Zlotowski herself became unexpectedly pregnant during the making of this film, a fact that makes the central struggle of Other People’s Children all the more fascinating and poignant. So much of Rachel’s story revolves around her experience as an unmarried, child-free woman in her 40s, yet the film never even hints that these facets of her identity are the root of her mounting personal ennui. Indeed, the culprits are the social burden of womanhood and outdated notions of “family” that restrict her potential for a happy, fulfilling life. Her heart nearly breaks when Leila throws a tantrum about Rachel being over “all the time,” as opposed to her birth mother, and Ali’s own notion of what comprises a traditional household threatens to sabotage his relationship with Rachel.

In fact, Louana’s sudden “happy accident” of a pregnancy appears to mirror the experience of Zlotowski – joy and trepidation seize hold in equal measure, but the decision to keep the baby is met with nothing but eager happiness and support from Rachel. Again, the filmmaker is careful not to tread cliched ground when it comes to navigating a woman’s relationship to motherhood and “traditional” roles. Rachel does not envy or look down on her sister for embracing a life path that has not yet manifested for her; even when the baby is born, Rachel is a dutiful aunt and caretaker, pouring an enormous amount of love into each interaction with the child. Deeply loving the children in our lives doesn’t always mean we yearn for children of our own. Being open to the idea of having children doesn’t mean we must be devastated when the opportunity doesn’t arise.