Who You Think I Am

In a quiet university town, Claire balances the demands of a demanding academic career with the fragmented responsibilities of single motherhood. A professor of French literature, she moves through lecture halls and courtroom‑like custody meetings with a practiced calm that masks an inner turbulence. Beneath the veneer of scholarly routine, a personal crisis stirs, leaving her yearning for a sense of validation and connection that seems increasingly out of reach in her everyday world.

Seeking refuge from the pressures of her real life, she turns to the anonymity of the internet, crafting a vibrant, youthful persona that allows her to step away from the expectations tied to her age and status. This digital self becomes a portal into a new social sphere where strangers are approachable and intimacy feels attainable, offering a tantalizing promise of the affirmation she craves. The film paints this online realm with a luminous, almost dream‑like quality, contrasting sharply with the muted tones of Claire’s off‑screen existence.

As she navigates this double life, Ludovic, a younger colleague, drifts in and out of her orbit, embodying the allure of youthful spontaneity that both excites and unsettles her. Simultaneously, Alex, a peer she meets through her online alias, introduces a different kind of connection—one built on conversation that blurs the line between genuine affection and the performance of her fabricated identity. The narrative unfolds within the clinical setting of her psychotherapy sessions with Dr. Bormans, whose probing questions echo the film’s broader meditation on truth, self‑perception, and the fragile boundaries between reality and illusion.

The tone is introspective and quietly tense, a modern psychological drama that examines how the digital age reshapes intimacy and identity. With a measured pace and a focus on internal conflict, the story invites viewers to contemplate the cost of escaping into a constructed self, while the world around Claire remains both familiar and subtly disorienting, reflecting the delicate dance between authenticity and the desire to be seen.

Last Updated: August 10, 2025 at 00:38