On the opening day of the 2024 Paris Olympic Games… Elisabeth continues her job showing short-term rental apartments while battling both her hearing impairment and the silent weight of depression. To escape the city’s chaos, noise, and even herself, she removes her hearing aids; as she gazes at Monet’s Water Lilies, she finds a brief sense of calm.

Laurent Slama’s Paris-set exploration of depression delivers a truly classic arthouse experience. From the very first minutes, the film draws the viewer in, and the sound transitions and cinematographic choices used to reflect Elisabeth’s hearing difficulties are both striking and deeply satisfying.

The film begins in a state of chaotic struggle, but once Elisabeth meets Elijah, the sincere and profound connection that unfolds between them reveals something essential: the depth of a bond is shaped not by how long we know someone, but by the troubles we share and the vulnerability we recognize in each other. The emotional and psychological insight the film offers transforms loneliness into an echoing void — one that can be felt even in a crowd. In that sense, the film occasionally resembles a therapy session.

The most beautiful reference in the film is undoubtedly Monet’s Water Lilies. In A Second Life, the painting is not merely a visual motif; it becomes a sanctuary for Elisabeth, a space to breathe. When she removes her hearing aids and loses herself in the painting, both the weight of depression and the noise of the city recede, turning art into a form of inner meditation. Her connection to Monet’s work suggests that such a bond can serve as a path toward emotional and mental rebirth.
For me, it became a kind of depressive feel-good movie — one I can definitely see myself revisiting in the future.