Daphne is an excellent film to watch if you have ever worried about where your life is going, let alone whether you are actually walking straight.
Like most of this genre (and, for that matter, all films) the protagonist and her apartment were unbelievably peng, setting ridiculously high expectations of what is possible with your face and physique, or living in London as a supposedly sub-functioning human.
In contrast, however, to most films where people are having a quarter-life crisis, it was reassuring that Daphne was in her thirties, rather than early twenties. It is severely irritating to watch films where people five minutes out of university worry about ‘what they are doing’ with their lives. I’m painfully aware that for at least the first five years after university I will be living under a duvet in my parent’s house (and praying that they don’t notice).
It is also nice to see a film where a woman pursues sex rather than love without it being said ‘I’m not like other girls’.
The other fabulous facet of the protagonists’ promiscuity is how frequently she fails to have a good sexual experience, or indeed to actually manage to have sex.
Overall the film was enjoyable, it’s nice to see a woman being a bit of a prick even if her hair is slightly too perfect. It is also nice to see a film which accepts that the dramatic events in life aren’t necessarily the most important ones, nor the ones which make the most difference to you.
The palette was gorgeous, and the shots were easy to follow, if not as clean as one would like. That said, this film hit a pleasant median between light and trashy, and somewhat deep, making it a good one to watch for almost any mood.