Kika Review: Manon Clavel’s Breakout Performance

Kika (2025), the debut feature from Alexe Poukine, marks a bold transition from her award-winning shorts and documentaries into narrative cinema. Set against the urban backdrop of Brussels, the film introduces us to Kika, a dedicated social worker whose days are filled with visits to underfunded shelters and meetings with clients on the edge. A seemingly lighthearted meet-cute in a closing-time bike shop sparks a passionate affair with the owner, David, upending her stable—but emotionally restrained—family life.

When tragedy strikes and Kika finds herself widowed and pregnant, the film pivots sharply. Poukine shifts from romantic warmth to a grounded social-realist portrait of economic desperation: a single mother grappling with debts and the looming specter of social housing waitlists.

Moments of tenderness—shared breakfasts with her daughter, laughter with newfound friends—sit alongside scenes of moral reckoning as Kika invents unorthodox ways to stay afloat. This calibrated balance of light and shadow sets the stage for a story that continually surprises, inviting viewers to question how far one might go when every option seems closed.

Story & Themes

Act I opens with everyday routines: Kika cycling through rain-slicked streets, offering a compassionate ear to hers and others’ suffering. That routine is disrupted when she becomes trapped overnight in the bike shop with David. Their chemistry—captured in lingering close-ups and a plaintive tenor saxophone motif—propels her into an extramarital romance that feels both inevitable and fraught.

Act II fractures Kika’s new life. After David’s sudden death, her financial safety net vanishes. Faced with mounting bills and a daughter to feed, she recalls a client’s offhand remark about selling soiled garments for fast cash. This step into informal sex work is portrayed without sensationalism: awkward first exchanges, whispered instructions from a seasoned dominatrix mentor, and the polite curiosity of clients form a montage of survival.

Act III deepens the film’s social commentary. Kika experiments with dominatrix roles—exploring power dynamics she once witnessed only as a helper. Here, economic necessity and personal agency intersect: each session becomes a way to process grief, sublimate anger, and reclaim control over her body. Poukine weaves these scenes into a critique of Belgium’s precarious support systems—highlighting long housing waitlists and the undervaluing of care work—while probing how grief can catalyze radical reinvention.

Characters & Performances

Manon Clavel’s portrayal of Kika is a master class in restrained emotion. Her freckles-flecked face registers every flicker of uncertainty: a quiver of the lip, a flash of curiosity in her eyes. This “deer-in-headlights” innocence amplifies the shock of each tonal shift, inviting us to share her bewilderment and resolve.

Makita Samba’s David serves as both romantic ideal and tragic catalyst. His warm, easy smile and gentle manner establish him as a safe harbor—making his abrupt exit all the more devastating. Suzanne Elbaz, as Louison, embodies youthful steadiness. Silent but attentive, her presence underscores what Kika stands to lose if she missteps.

Among the supporting cast, Thomas Coumans’s ex-husband offers a quiet contrast: a steady, if distant, reminder of Kika’s former life. Anaël Snoek’s Rasha brings gravitas and wry humor as Kika’s dominatrix guide, teaching her the etiquette and emotional boundaries of another world. Brief vignettes with various clients—each with their own peculiar desires—reveal the breadth of human longing and test Kika’s evolving comfort zone. Together, these performances enrich themes of empathy, power exchange, and self-discovery.

Direction, Style & Technical Craft

Poukine’s documentary background infuses Kika with an immediacy that eschews polish for authenticity. Hand-held camerawork and natural light lend each frame a lived-in texture. Moments of introspection are often punctuated by abrupt fades to black, allowing emotional beats to linger uncomfortably.

Cinematographer Pierre Desprats captures Brussels not as a postcard city but as a network of worn facades and cramped apartments. The jazz-tinged score—dominated by tenor saxophone—underscores Kika’s shifting moods, from the flutter of new love to the tense hush of secret rendezvous. Editing choices signal tonal turns: a crisp cut when Kika confesses her affair, a slower rhythm as she navigates the dominatrix community.

Genre conventions interplay throughout: rom-com pastel hues give way to gritty realism, then to charged erotic drama. Costuming underscores this duality—Kika’s muted social-worker wardrobe contrasts sharply with the stark latex and leather of her rented dominatrix uniforms.

In key sequences—particularly her first full-duty session—Pou­kine layers close-in framing with diegetic sound (clicks of heels, measured breathing) to heighten tension. These elements cohere into a filmic language that is precise yet daring, marking Kika as both a technical achievement and an emotionally potent journey.

Kika had its world premiere at the 2025 Cannes Film Festival in the Critics’ Week section on May 16, 2025, and is scheduled for theatrical release in Belgium on June 25, 2025.

Full Credits

Director: Alexe Poukine

Writers: Alexe Poukine, Thomas Van Zuylen

Producers: Benoît Roland, Alexandre Perrier, François-Pierre Clavel

Cast: Manon Clavel (as Kika), Ethelle Gonzalez Lardued, Makita Samba, Suzanne Elbaz, Anaël Snoek, Thomas Coumans, Kadija Leclere, Bernard Blancan

Director of Photography (Cinematographer): Colin Lévêque

Editor: Agnès Bruckert

Composer: Pierre Desprats