In 2022, Chantal Akerman’s epic film, Jeanne Dielman, 23 quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles, topped Sight and Sound's list of the 100 greatest films. It's the first time a female director has led the ranking, and it's no small feat. As a reflection of the #MeToo movement, it seems that women are finally being reconsidered, both in front of and behind the camera. The motivation behind this retrospective is our desire to showcase portraits of strong women at the heart of films, far from the figures of housewives or objectified women.

Sorority first, this egalitarian relationship, a tool of power and rallying, will be highlighted with a foundational film and precious archival document, Y'a qu'à pas baiser! directed by Carole Roussopoulos in 1971. It's also about emancipation, the kind that comes through the body, its discovery, and its reappropriation. This theme is also explored in L’Amérique de la femme and Kleptomami, where sexuality is addressed forthrightly, and the physical invasions and other impositions of motherhood are discussed. There are also women born in the wrong envelope, like Shin-mi in God’s Daughter Dances. And others who fully embrace their bodies to make a living from it: sex workers. In Un jour bien ordinaire, Ovidie and Corentin Coëplet present us with a revealing dystopian universe, while in Je les aime tous, the French actress Corinne Masiero embodies the writer, painter, and Swiss prostitute Grisélidis Réal.

A unique experience: each program will start with a short film from the H24 series, produced by Arte, which invites us to step into the shoes of today's women.

Presenting portraits of women will also mean addressing what constrains them, because even if this collection primarily includes positive and fighting figures, we do not forget those for whom the struggle still seems unthinkable—like the Iranian swimmers of Beach Flag, deprived of a pool by Islamic law, little Aïda, from Maman(s), who bears the heavy burden of traditions against which she can do nothing, for now. Or the heroine of Egùngùn who chose to leave to finally become herself, elsewhere, far away.

There is emancipation, either abrupt or gentle, with Olla, Sacha, and Mélissa, three women with their feet on the ground, in the boxing ring or on the dance floor, who leave us with a similar impression: a fed-up attitude coupled with a desire for revolt. And if we turn the insurgency dial to the max, we come across La Dragonne, who will be the vengeance and the answer to all those who forgot the notion of consent by harassing women on the street.

Behold the portraits of ladies on fire.