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 both uniquely intimate and profoundly relatable, especially through the lens of 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. To see these ideas of gaze, mortality, and identity explored from a woman's perspective—particularly in 1962—makes Cleo’s story feel both timeless and revolutionary.
Gaze is a recurring theme in the film. As a rising pop singer, Cleo is constantly watched and analyzed, and she’s aware of this attention. Sometimes she craves being seen in a superficial way; other times, she wants to be seen as herself. I know this conflict well. Cleo’s journey becomes a mirror, showing us the way 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 really am. There is a certain 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 really 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 that society reinforces over and over. In Cleo’s struggle to define herself beyond her beauty, I see reflections of my own journey toward authenticity—a journey to find connection and self-worth outside of superficial validation.
In this film, I see parts of myself, my friends, and other women I’ve known. 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 so 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, of being loved yet feeling uncherished.
