Cleo from 5-7
“You seem to waiting for something, rather than someone”
This film has kittens, Paris, tarot readings, Godard….. hello!!!
In Cleo from 5 to 7, we explore Cleo’s world over two pivotal hours as she awaits biopsy results. A lot happens in this short span, and her journey unfolds in a way that feels uniquely intimate and profoundly relatable, primarily through Agnès Varda’s female gaze. Only a woman could convey these themes with such insight, and Varda, as usual, knocks it out of the park. Varda uses mirrors as a vehicle for reflection: both internal and external. It’s not just a story about Cleo; it’s a portrait of womanhood, capturing the complex interplay between inner life and societal expectations. Seeing these ideas of gaze, mortality, and identity explored from a woman's perspective, particularly in 1962, makes Cleo’s story feel timeless and revolutionary.
Gaze is a recurring theme in the film. Cleo is constantly watched and analyzed as a rising pop singer, and she’s aware of this attention. Sometimes she craves being seen superficially; other times, she wants to be seen as herself. I know this conflict well. Cleo’s journey becomes a mirror, showing how women often live under others' eyes, constantly negotiating the line between appearance and reality. I, too, find myself toggling between these perspectives: the way I want to be seen and the vulnerability of who I am. There is a particular joy in being seen for superficial reasons; it can feel validating in the moment, but relying on this is ultimately unfulfilling.
Then there’s mortality, a profound shadow that looms as Cleo awaits her biopsy results. Forced to confront life’s fragility, she begins to question what matters, what feels authentic, and what she truly wants for herself versus what she thinks she should be. Are her relationships fulfilling? Her journey inward becomes a study in morality as well, about living with integrity and embracing who we are, without performing for approval. Many women, myself included, are conditioned to perform for others' approval; it’s embedded in our social DNA. But as Cleo lets go of this need, she begins to see what matters.
Identity and authenticity are explored as Cleo slowly changes her appearance and attitude. We watch her shift from a makeup-clad performer to a bare-faced woman, stripping off the wig she wears for the world. This transformation is a reminder of the bravery it takes to show up as ourselves in a world quick to judge. For women, especially, youth and beauty are fleeting currencies society repeatedly reinforces. In Cleo’s struggle to define herself beyond her beauty, I see reflections of my journey toward authenticity, a journey to find connection and self-worth outside of superficial validation.
I see parts of myself, my friends, and other women I’ve known in this film. I understand Cleo; I am Cleo. Her journey feels like a reflection of my own, a dance between self-perception and societal pressures, between fear and courage. It’s that rare, vulnerable kind of art that mirrors our experiences, reminding us we’re not alone. This is why art like Cleo from 5 to 7 feels essential; it reaches into those deeply personal spaces, making us feel recognized, understood, and connected.
“Everybody spoils me, nobody loves me”. Cleo’s words capture a deep ache, the yearning to be truly cherished beyond the surface. This film became an instant favorite because it doesn’t flinch from revealing the complexity of being seen yet feeling unseen, loved yet uncherished.
