Recovering from a parent’s abandonment isn’t easy, especially if it occurred during childhood. French actress Romane Bohringer, who for years has tried to come to terms with the wound left by that absence, knows this well. When she encounters Autain’s novel, Tell Her That I Love Her, about a mother’s abandonment of her young daughter too, perhaps she finds a mirror that can fill an inexplicable event with meaning. An event that requires listening, despite possible resentment. Between documentary and fiction, between recrimination and forgiveness, Romane Bohringer’s film is the delicate encounter between the sensitivity of the director and the sensitivity of the writer Clémentine Autain: empathy, which transcends the boundaries of artistic languages ​​(the stage and screen actress; the writer), is a medicine that the entire film translates into the mutual rapprochement between the reconstructions of Clémentine’s past and those of Romane’s past, between imaginative evocation and archive material. So that the wounds heal, but the scars remain the sign of a new, unpredictable strength.