Wingwomen (2023)
Director: Mélanie Laurent
Screenwriters: Cédric Anger, Chris Deslandes
Starring: Mélanie Laurent, Adéle Exarchapoulos, Isabelle Adjani, Manon Bresch
Wingwomen arrives at a moment when the blockbuster landscape is shifting away from the relentless dominance of comic-book franchises and toward smaller, character-focused return-to-form stories. The film channels the early-2000s trend of breezy, friendship-driven action comedies—movies like Charlie’s Angels, Shanghai Noon, and Ocean’s Eleven—while trying to update that template for contemporary audiences. Director Mélanie Laurent crafts a movie that is most successful when it centers on the relationship between its two leads, yet less convincing when it leans on flashy, underdeveloped plot devices.
At its core, Wingwomen is a character piece. The film opens with a kinetic sequence that reads like a training mission: Carole (Mélanie Laurent) and Alex (Adéle Exarchapoulos) race through a forest pursued by military drones. Carole, the steady and level-headed half of the partnership, pilots a quad bike while Alex, the reckless, emotionally volatile counterpart, returns fire from the back and narrates her romantic frustrations. The scene establishes a clear, enjoyable contrast between the two women—one pragmatic and controlled, the other impulsive and fiercely alive.
Their chemistry is the movie’s greatest asset. The dynamic between Carole and Alex recalls classic double acts: there is a Laurel-and-Hardy simplicity to their roles—one organized, the other chaotic—but Laurent and Exarchapoulos bring modern nuance. Alex’s messy exterior belies a capacity for selflessness; Carole’s composure masks vulnerabilities she scarcely reveals. The way they support and aggravate one another feels authentic and earned, and the film excels whenever it lets their friendship breathe. These moments make the characters feel like real people you would want to follow, whether they are defusing a crisis or simply sharing a quiet task.
That strength is also the film’s primary frustration. Early on, the protagonists express a shared desire for ordinary lives, a compelling emotional turn that promises a fresh direction: to watch two skilled, extraordinary women attempt an ordinary existence together. Instead of exploring that possibility, the screenplay introduces an array of high-tech set pieces and plot contrivances that divert attention from the characters. Elements like a mirrored, retina-secured bunker in the woods are visually clever but remain unexplained and ultimately feel disposable. These narrative detours create an imbalance, where spectacle frequently overshadows substance.
Technically, the film is uneven. There are sequences of genuine visual poetry—carefully composed shots and lighting choices that communicate mood and theme as effectively as dialogue. In those instances, Wingwomen feels cinematic and deliberate, and the camera work elevates simple interactions into memorable images. By contrast, other moments feel cluttered and unfocused. A spontaneous musical interlude, for example, arrives without context and departs without consequence, breaking tonal cohesion rather than enhancing it.
Where the film truly succeeds is in its portrait of interdependence. Carole and Alex are written with empathy and precision; they are flawed, resilient, and paradoxically complete when together. Their arc—learning how to trust, share burdens, and imagine different futures—provides an emotional throughline that keeps the viewer invested even when the surrounding plot feels aimless. The movie suggests that the most compelling action is not the stunts or the gadgets, but the quiet decisions friends make for one another.
Ultimately, Wingwomen is a mixed but likable piece. Its heart—two vividly drawn leads and the authenticity of their friendship—shines through persistent distractions. If the film had committed more fully to character-driven storytelling and trimmed some of the louder set pieces, it could have been a stronger, more cohesive work. Still, as an attempt to revive the buddy-action spirit with a contemporary sensibility, it offers glimpses of charm and promise. For viewers who come for chemistry and character rather than tightly plotted thrills, Wingwomen will reward patience.
Score: 12/24
Rating: 2 out of 5.
Written by Rob Jones