Out Standing tells the story of Sandra Perron, Canada’s first female infantry officer, whose resilience carried her through a career marked by prejudice, harassment, and public scrutiny, while also opening the path for the women who came after her. Directed by Quebec filmmaker Mélanie Charbonneau in her sophomore feature and adapted from Perron’s memoir, the film celebrates her victories. It dramatizes the infamous training incident that the press used to reduce her career to a single photo. It also follows her eventual resignation from the military, though the film makes clear these were not directly connected. Like many biographical dramas, it highlights worthy facts but rarely makes us feel what it was like to live them.
From its title to the opening epigraph—Perron’s own words about there never being “enough camouflage in the world to hide [her] in a battalion full of men”—the film shows from the start that subtlety is not its goal. Within minutes, we see how hostile the army was towards women, and how tough Perron’s road ahead will be. Her responses to adversity are sketched so firmly early on that they begin to feel predictable. The nuance the film does manage comes less from the script than from Nina Kiri’s performance, which anchors the story. She gives us a fuller portrait of Perron even as the nonlinear approach unfolds, showing her determination and stubbornness but also the weariness that builds with time.
The story unfolds out of sequence, alternating between her training years and her post-resignation life. At first, this keeps the film dynamic, letting us piece together her journey and admire how Kiri shifts between a younger and older Perron. But once the film pauses on key episodes, especially the notorious training exercise, outcomes are revealed too early, and what should be climactic instead plays out exactly as expected. The incident, for instance, loses tension once Perron excuses the captain’s actions in the “future” timeline. When we later see the events themselves, the outcome is already known, and by the time the characters revisit them in dialogue, there is nothing new to add. Rather than heightening the drama, the repetition slows the pace.
What’s striking is how much attention the film gives to justifying a single incident that Perron herself never wanted to define her career. By circling back to it, the film sidelines her actual achievements and neglects what should have been the heart of the story: why she chose to serve in the first place. A late scene tries to tie both threads together, showing a young girl looking up to Perron as a role model and having Perron acknowledge her father’s influence. Yet it arrives belatedly, more a statement than something we truly experience through her story. Without that foundation, the sacrifices she makes along the way carry less weight.
The film builds toward her resignation as the decisive turning point, but the frustration that should lead there never accumulates, and the conclusion lands with little force. It does not help that some hardships are staged with the subtlety of a brick, like a soldier mocking her in kindergarten fashion, while more meaningful conflicts remain untouched. There are glimpses of nuance that suggest a better film. Early on, a bunk-bed exchange shows Perron hesitate before giving up the top bunk, a small gesture that hints at her habit of suppressing her own desires for the sake of peace, or even how conflict averse she is at first. Later, a long pause at a dinner table briefly reveals her inner conflicts about life outside the army. But these moments vanish as the film grows more literal, relying on dialogue to tell us what to think and repeating what we already know.
Visually, the film rarely rises above the look of a TV drama, leaning heavily on close-ups without using its images to capture Perron’s vulnerability or isolation. Kiri holds our attention, and Perron’s life is undeniably remarkable, enough to make the film worth watching as a record of a pivotal figure in Canadian history. But unlike its subject, the filmmaking never dares to break ground. Out Standing ensures her story is told, but not fully felt. Perron paved the way for the next generation, yet the film about her settles for the conventional, content to reflect her legacy without matching the force of it.
This is part of Reviews On Reels TIFF 2025 Coverage. Due to the hectic rhythm of a film festival, it may be tweaked in the future.
Still courtesy of TIFF.