There’s something intoxicating about the beginning of “The Balconettes.” A sweeping crane shot floats through a sun-drenched Marseille apartment complex as residents hang out on their balconies, seeking refuge from an oppressive heatwave. It recalls those hazy European evenings where the air is thick, time slows down, and balconies become makeshift sanctuaries. But in Noémie Merlant’s genre-blending film, that hazy charm quickly gives way to chaos, revelation, and empowerment.

At the heart of the chaos are three friends whose chemistry anchors the film: Nicole (Sanda Codreanu), the romantic writer; Ruby (Souheila Yacoub), a bold, uninhibited camgirl; and Élise (Merlant herself), a volatile actress with a flair for the dramatic. What initially appears to be a flirty, summer misadventure quickly takes a sharp left turn when an impromptu hang with a handsome neighbor (Lucas Bravo from ‘Emily in Paris’) turns deadly.

The events of that night are murky at first, but the signs point to something far more disturbing than a drunken accident. What unfolds is a wild mix of dark comedy and horror as the women scramble to cover their tracks—cleaning up a crime scene, hiding a body, and navigating the fallout of an act of sexual violence against Ruby.

As absurd as some of the moments play out, the tension is real as the film stops being a quirky heatwave caper and takes on the themes of power, belief, and the consequences of unwanted sexual advancements. Throughout the film, the camera work hovers with dreamlike stillness at times, while jerking into chaos during moments of panic or revelation. Merlant and cinematographer Jeanne Lapoirie make great use of these sudden shifts, often blurring the line between intimacy and intrusion.

“The Balconettes,” which screens at the 51st Seattle International Film Festival, is strongest when these three friends are sharing the screen (along with their dog, “Brad the Pitt”). Whether they’re lounging in their oven-hot apartment or spiraling into full-blown mayhem, the trio feels like real friends—messy, impulsive, but ultimately bound by loyalty. While not every tonal shift lands perfectly, the action is constantly moving forward by focusing on its core strength: the emotional and psychological journey of its protagonists. 

The final act veers into supernatural territory, with male ghosts of the past reckoning with the violence they inflicted, while women throughout Marseille – both living and spectral – reclaim public space in a the film’s finale as the heatwave breaks. It’s bold, chaotic, and mostly on point. “The Balconettes” is unafraid to push boundaries. It’s not a film that always plays clean, but that unpredictability is exactly what makes it work.