Toronto 2026 Review: MARIE MADELEINE, An Unforgettable Experience

As writer, producer, director, and star of Marie Madeleine, Haitian filmmaker Gessica Géné (Freda, 2021) announces herself as someone to watch.

This modern parable follows the budding friendship between a bohemian brothel worker Marie Madeleine (Géné), and Joseph (Béonard Monteau), the repressed evangelical son of a strict preacher whose new church sits directly across the street. Set in Jacmel, Haiti, Géné crafts a uniquely modern battle between good and evil.

Géné fashions an intoxicating vision of the clashing realities of her characters: The mystical beliefs of the women who ease the real-life dreariness of the poverty around them versus the almost literal austerity of human existence as dictated by the scriptures.

The film begins with a frenzied scene as Marie is having a miscarriage. Joseph stumbles upon her on the street and carries her to the hospital. There she encounters a cold, strictly medical, reception as a nurse dismisses her as "a whore". Only Joseph shows compassion through his concern.

Géné, as Marie, and Monteau, as Joseph, are presented as polar opposites. Marie is quick to point out that, despite her profession (not so much chosen as necessitated by her circumstances), she was not named after Mary Magdalene, the Biblical figure, but rather her grandmother, who was dragged to Haiti and then abandoned to cruel fate.

Marie possesses a captivating allure, while Joseph's shy, understated manner suggests a gentleness beyond the unmistakable repression. Monteau's performance is understated and subtle. He's detached but his kindness quickly shines through.

The two characters almost literally represent the worlds that produced them. The contrast between them gradually melts into a special understanding. They share a creative bond as Marie, who draws her memories on the walls of her room, inspires Joseph to express himself through his photography. In this way, their artistic outlets mirror that of the filmmaker.

As director, Géné quite amply balances the many elements at underscoring life in Haiti. She keeps her film grounded in the reality of poverty even while she conjures a dreamscape, one that summons the ancient Vodou spirituality embedded at the core of Haitian society. But Marie has her own unique view of the world: She exists in a sensual world and is determined to be liberated through her own practice of hedonism.

While she and the other sex workers come alive in a world of pulsing beats and visions, Géné also skillfully blends in the wild abandon that overtakes the practitioners in the church. These are the facts of the two clashing beliefs in Haiti, one that exists in the country's ancient core, while the other survives as the European colonizer's imposition. They remain separate but are both inescapably embedded in society.

Working with Canadian cinematographer Nicolas Canniccioni (How to Have Sex, 2023), Géné's methodical use of vivid colours accentuates Marie's own determination to live as a free spirit, despite her circumstances. Although the filmmaker crafts what appears to touch on a fantastical spiritual realm, the camera pauses to take in the harsh realities in which Marie, her friends, and many Haitians live.

Jacmel is a coastal town, a place where Marie escapes into the natural world to revive her soul. She gathers with friends and eventually entices Joseph to join them. His initial stiffness, his apparent emotional detachment, seem to fall away. Eventually his true self emerges in a newfound spiritual awakening.

Joseph has wandered through the film like a zombie, a victim of the higher authorities that have imposed on society. His growing fascination with Marie awakens his essential identity but as is often the case, nothing is that simple. It's not unexpected that there would be consequences as he reveals his rightful nature. He's not following the rules anymore.

The end of the film might appear inevitable but as Géné presents it, Marie Madeleine is an unforgettable experience.