’We Believe You’ review: Tense Belgian family custody drama is a knockout

Dirs/scr: Charlotte Devillers, Arnaud Dufeys. Belgium. 2025. 78mins

Charlotte Devillers and Arnaud Dufeys’ gripping debut feature We Believe You captures all the stomach churning tensions of a life-changing court hearing. Tightly focused, densely scripted and impeccably acted, it is as nail biting as any splashier thriller. The impact is deepened by an examination of a legal system in which victims struggle to be heard and believed.  Premiering in Berlin’s Perspectives, this is a strong festival title and could gain commercial traction among arthouse audiences who delivered a favourable verdict on Custody (2017) and Anatomy Of A Fall (2023.

A powerful drama about why victims need to be believed 

It is hard not to think of the Dardenne Brothers when faced with a Belgian production marked by some handheld camerawork and urgent social issues. The stunning central performance from Dardenne regular Miriam Akheddiou (The Kid With A Bike (2011), Young Ahmed (2019) etc) further encourages the comparison. Devillers, a former healthcare professional, and Dufeys, graduating here from shorts to features, still manage to stamp the material with their own style, not least in the framing and focus.

Our heart goes out to Alice (Akheddiou) from the very first moment. Her angry 10 year-old son Etienne (Ulysse Goffin) is doing everything he can to stop the family catching a tram that will take them to a family court hearing. The camera remains focused on Alice through the battle of wills. Her laboured breathing, state of high anxiety and exasperation convey the pressure on someone barely able to keep things together.  Accompanied by her 17 year-old daughter Lila (Adele Pinckaers), they arrive, make their way through security and prepare for a day of reckoning.

Devillers and Dufeys create the weight of something inescapable in their use of a location filled with waiting rooms, winding corridors, glass walls and procedures that all conspire to restrict and confine. As events unfold, the camera scrutinises Alice and her reactions. We learn that Alice and the children are being brought face to face with her ex-husband (Laurent Capelluto) and a judge whose role is to determine what is best for the children. Neither Etienne or Lila want any further contact with their father.

Over the course of extensive testimony and statements, we learn the family history and the charges pending against the husband in a separate criminal case. Akheddiou’s extraordinary performance conveys all the emotional wear and tear that she has endured. She creates a fully-rounded portrait of decency, exhaustion and frustration. Even the way she sits, with a hand protectively cupping and concealing her face, speaks volumes.

We Believe You is smartly layered, gradually revealing more of what has happened and what is at stake. The ex-husband is given his chance to speak but remains an elusive character. He appears a reasonable man but everything the children say suggests otherwise. There is also a striking sense in which Alice becomes the person on trial, with lawyers and advisers seeking to paint her as an unfit mother. They are polite and well-intentioned but the impact is devastating.

Devillers and Dufeys don’t waste a minute of a tight running time. Every role is well cast here, with a noteworthy contribution from Natali Broods as the presiding judge. She has little to say but every look, glance, interruption and gentle reminder speak of her intention to judge fairly. This is a powerful drama about why victims need to be believed and why children must be heard in any consideration of their future; closing titles reveal some chilling statistics on the topic under consideration. Some questions may linger afterwards, not least about security in the courthouse but, in the moment,We Believe You is thrilling.