Jeannette: The Childhood of Joan of Arc

Imagine a cross between "Annie" and "Jesus Christ Superstar," only with more speed metal. Now imagine a lot of long takes of sometimes merely adequate, sometimes sneakily brilliant performers doing simple dance steps or sing-talking reams of theatrical dialogue (adapted from Charles Peguy's religious mystery play).

There’s no hint of irony in this film (I don’t think it would work if there were); in fact, Jeannette succeeds in its earnestness, adapting its words from Charles Peguy’s works, but countering it with the pure, joyous silliness of its presentation.

For those who remain seated, this is a strange and forthright cinematic object with considerable rough-hewn charm. Those who recall Jesus Christ, Superstar will feel faint pangs of familiarity at the mix of sincerity and crazed audacity.

It’s often more strikingly funny-looking than laugh-out-loud funny.

Much like young Jeanette, there is no compromise in Dumont's vision that mixes the irreverent and the austere.

Sadly, it’s not quite as fun as that sounds. If you’re up for something deeply and unsettlingly strange, though, Bruno Dumont’s portrait of the saint as a young zealot has genuine oddball pleasures amid stretches of real tedium.

Dumont’s uncompromising approach to the material makes for a love-it-or-hate-it affair, and it should be clear where this particular viewer fell on that spectrum.