The Girls

In a restless Swedish summer, a troupe of actresses carries the ancient comedy Lysistrata from town to town, turning modest theatres into makeshift arenas where the ancient call for female agency bumps into contemporary bewilderment. The play’s bold premise—women withholding intimacy to force peace—collides with audiences that often stare blankly or laugh nervously, creating a dream‑like atmosphere in which the line between performance and everyday life begins to dissolve.

The heart of the journey belongs to three women whose off‑stage lives echo the play’s themes. Liz wrestles with a husband whose infidelity has left her questioning whose needs come first. Marianne, a new mother, feels the tug of a toddler left in the care of strangers as she tries to step beyond the confines of home. Gunilla, mother of four, confronts a partner who urges her to remain a full‑time caretaker rather than pursue the stage. Their personal dilemmas intertwine, each woman both a confidante and a mirror for the others, shaping a fragile yet resilient bond that fuels their collective quest.

The film moves with a tone that is simultaneously playful and somber, using the absurdity of a classical Greek comedy staged in modern Sweden to probe deeper questions about gender roles, artistic relevance, and personal freedom. Surreal moments drift in and out—rehearsal lines bleed into whispered conversations, and the clamor of the road amplifies inner doubts—while a quiet humor undercuts the tension, keeping the mood from becoming heavy.

As the trio travels, they encounter polite indifference, subtle hostility, and fleeting flashes of understanding. Their shared desire to make the ancient chorus speak to contemporary ears pushes them into moments of confrontation and quiet revelation, hinting at how the stage may become a mirror for their own lives and a catalyst for change.

Last Updated: December 04, 2025 at 23:17