By Nicholas Porteous
Josephine opens with a first-person pov shot from its protagonist–a little girl learning to run and jump with her dad (Channing Tatum). Though the camera leaves this particular setup, Josephine‘s perspective is locked in for the rest of the film. We’re inhabiting the soul of a child in the earliest stages of development, and when she’s the only third-party witness to a sexual assault, her journey becomes as painful as it is impossible to look away from.
Josephine is a profound exploration of how trauma shapes us in immeasurable ways–manifesting in behaviour that often defies easy explanation. Josephine’s parents are intermittently split on how to confront her pain. Her mom (Gemma Chan) wants to go inward, while Tatum’s instinct is to push her physical activity as a ‘distraction’. Their approaches clash, and Josephine is often left to her own devices, drowning in uncertainty and mysterious, unchecked aggression. There are moments when the film’s thesis feels foggy. That dynamic tension between Josephine’s various caretakers that can feel uneven, driven by dialogue that’s a little too sharp for such a delicate and uncertain situation. Most of the time, however, it’s an immersive, deeply felt experience–in the best, and most agonizing, way–straight from director Beth de Araujo’s heart. She’s described the origins of Josephine as partially autobiographical. Considering its uncannily vivid perspective, I’m not at all surprised.
If you miss its final screening at TIFF, I heartily recommend catching Josephine in theatres this November.
Josephine screens at TIFF ’26:
Mon. Sept 14 at 9:20 PM at Scotiabank Theatre
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