Writers: Cecilia Verheyden and Vincent Vanneste
Director: Cecilia Verheyden
The pain of first love is central to LGTBQIA+ stories and while there is usually hope for the young adults who transgress boundaries to find self-acceptance Cecilia Verheyden and Vincent Vanneste take their protagonist Malou on a far rougher journey, symbolised by the lone-person rowing vessel of the title. Skiff is sensitive about the isolation teenagers feel, of a body changing in ways that perhaps you don’t want it to change and the complexity of parental relationships but it is the relentless loneliness of not fitting in and the broken promise of betrayal that linger long after the credits roll.
Rower Malou is teased by the other girls for not wanting to take a shower at the end of practice and this bullying leaves her feeling separated from the team. Things are no better at home with two older brothers and a semi-absent mother who can no longer connect with her children in the way they need. But when brother Max starts dating the kind Nouri, a bond forms with Malou that starts to grow into something much stronger for both of them.
Verheyden and Vanneste’s film is tenderly handled, told from Malou’s perspective, the audience observe the nervousness she feels about her body and separation she feels from almost everyone in her life. Much of that rests in Femke Vanhove’s performance full of wide eyed innocence as her fragile feelings are trampled on again and again, all the while shyly wanting to explore the new sides of her sexuality that are emerging. And the attraction to her brother’s girlfriend proves a good motor for a film that hinges on Vanhove’s expressive projection of being sixteen and uncertain of everything especially herself.
There are lots of films like this, small indie features about the bittersweet impact of first crushes and sexual experiences but there’s room for this one, particular with the family dynamic that adds greatly to the creation of Malou’s character, someone who has been treated like one of the boys since birth, even wearing their clothes. Skiff does stray occasionally into suggestion that Malou is uncomfortable in her physical body, hiding her form under baggy outfits and covering her breasts in the mirror to imagine them gone, but doesn’t quite go far enough in making this a driving force in her development through the film, leaving the thread hanging.
The shots of rowing are beautifully managed with Jordan Vanschel’s cinematography capturing the lightness and warmth of summer, the charm of the lake and the long days spent with nothing to do but fall for someone you shouldn’t. In the end it’s rather hard to root for the couple to succeed though with Lina Miftah’s Nouria so unsure of her own feelings – and never given sufficient opportunity to expand her own attraction to brother and sister – that the final act becomes a little overlong. It hurts Malou, but in the long run, you’re better off without her.
BFI Flare 2026 runs from 18-29 March.
