Adèle Exarchopoulos in Zero Fucks Given (MUBI)

If one is drawn in by the title of Zero Fucks Given, thinking you will see a raucous comedy or an anti-authoritarian middle finger to conformity, one will walk away disappointed. What you see instead is a piercing portrayal of the numbness that grieving perpetuates.

Adèle Exarchopoulos stars as Cassandre, a 20-something stewardess at an airline so low-rent that the company is simply called Wing.  Cassandre starts these flights by mixing and downing mini bottles of vodka and orange juice, and there’s a deadness in her eyes as she bids each passenger farewell. Her nights are filled with partying in clubs and small talk with roommates in the various flats the airline keeps for flight attendants. Occasionally, she hooks up through Tinder. All is done with the enthusiasm of a sixth grader presented with an hourlong math test. There is simply no joy in her life

Early on we learn that her mother recently died in a car crash. This she reveals in a drunken night with a male friend. She states it so nonchalantly and in such a detached manner, you assume it happened when she was very young. Turns out it was within the past couple of years. Cassandre has taken an instructor’s axiom, “The uniform is a wall between you and your feelings,” regarding interactions with passengers, and has applied it to her personal life as well.

That is, until the moment she actually shows empathy toward a passenger and breaks the rules. As a result, she is laid off and ends up going home, and this is where the movie switches gears. After spending her time deliberately downplaying any real emotion, she is confronted with what she’s running away from. Back home, she’s clearly the black sheep of the family: her sister works for their father’s company, and it’s clear that dad is resentful that Cassandre doesn’t—he grills her about whether there is really a difference between a stewardess and a barista at Starbucks. Yet the daily routines of family life slowly and inevitably crack through and break her resolve.

Co-directors/writers Julie Lecoustre and Emmanuelle Mare, along with cinematographer Olivier Boonjing, create a world of inherent dullness. It feels as if everything, including the outdoors, is under corporate culture fluorescents. The most striking shots tend to be of Cassandre walking away from the company-provided apartments and rolling her ever-present suitcase, as if it’s an extra emotional as well as a physical weight. Out on the streets, Cassandre is in the foreground, dwarfed by everything around her.

Another element that Lecoustre and Mare shine a light on is the inherent sexism of the service industry, particularly of the airborne variety, where Cassandre is scolded by a colleague for not shaving her legs. The colleague duly notes that if Cassandre is reported, everyone gets into trouble. At a later job interview for a flight attendant position, Cassandre is asked if she is single, to walk up and down the room, and do a full turn. She does so because it is expected. It is never questioned. Her self-esteem is such that it doesn’t matter to her. In fact, until she moves back in with her family, everyone around here is essentially faceless. They have no importance to her.

No one in Cassandre’s family has done a great job dealing with her mom’s death. Her father, Jean (Alexandre Perrier), has been trying to get a lawsuit going regarding the fatal car crash, but his appeal has been denied three times. Her sister, Mélissa (Mara Taquin), has been handling it by partying and drinking every weekend until she becomes physically ill. After living her life avoiding personal connections, Cassandre is actually forced to relate to others. The question of the film is whether Cassandre can stick to it, whether her wanderlust and need to disconnect will prevail, or whether the reconciliation with her family will ground her in any way.

Exarchopoulos is shaping up to be one of the finest actresses around. Coming on the heels of possibly the funniest performance last year in Mandibles, she essays a quiet, pained, and exceedingly lonely character desperate not to tap into or even acknowledge her feelings. She is in every scene and has a naturalness and honestly that is managed by very few.

Zero Fucks Given is not an easy watch; it requires patience. The movie seems to meander just like Cassandre. It is like watching water circling the drain. You sense the inevitable, but you have to go through the process of getting there.