A Love Letter to Chalet Girl

‘Arabella’ 

‘Henrietta’

‘Isabella’

‘Petronella’ 

‘Kim’. 

These are the words of a po-faced Felicity Jones as she attempts to fend off the perfectly blonded, Barbour-gilet wearing rahs at a job interview for a ski company. And so begins Chalet Girl. It’s the tale of cynical, 18-year-old Kim who goes from working at a fastfood chain to running a luxury chalet, dating a skiing Chuck Bass, and reaching the dizzying heights of becoming a global snowboarding megastar. It is, quite frankly, the perfect movie. It takes its dues from the posh-girl piss takes of Wild Child and St Trinians, puts them in a ski resort with Bill Nighy, and makes them better. It’s immaculate. And I will conclusively argue why. 

The cast – specifically, as mentioned, Bill Nighy 

What is literally not to love. Bill Nighy plays the cool, ‘I’m posh, but down-to-earth, and root for the underdog’ dad. Neil from the Inbetweeners’ dad plays a posh creep who sleazes whilst Heliskiing. Felicity Jones plays Felicity Jones. Ed Westwick does some great eyebrow scrunching. Georgie and Nigel are brilliant characters. Bill Bailey’s in it. And, just to add the cherry on top, Harriet from Wild Child is too. You actually can’t get a better, painfully British cocktail of actors and characters. 

Her completely virtuoso and unrealistic snowboarding ability 

Even for a former skateboarding star, it seems unlikely that Kim would go from sliding down the baby slope arse-first to hitting a double cab off the big kicker in a matter of months. And the whole premise is that she lands it for the first time in the competition. I’m sure the hoards of pro-snowboarders who seem to be permanently recovering from injury would have something to say about this. 

Tongue-in-Cheek “Eat the Rich” Sentiment 

I’m not sure the world is ready yet for a full Marxist analysis of Chalet Girl. However, the moments where Kim laments the lack of “Bella” in her name, or when she remarks upon how her monthly wage is chugged in Champagne in just a matter of minutes, do lend themselves to a potent criticism of the British class system. Why should it be that these people go pick up caviar on their “pop to the shops”? Kim makes us confront these (alleged) Picasso-owning, ibble-dibble playing ways of the 1% through her furrowed and biting wit. A poster girl for the revolution. 

The Soundtrack. Seriously, who knew we needed that much Two Door Cinema Club.

I cannot explain the instant hit of serotonin I receive when I hear any part of the Chalet Girl soundtrack. Whether it’s the dulcet tones of Paloma Faith, that weird semi-emo band that soundtracks Kim’s shredding, or The Wombats doing what they do best, the soundtrack never misses. Whoever compiled it deserves a raise because there’s nothing that makes me wish I was anywhere but Leeds more than when I hear Eliza Doolitte “Pack Up” against the backdrop of the Austrian Alps. 

The “Yeti” Scene 

Chalet Girl covers all the emotional bases. It will make you laugh. It will make you angry. It will make you confused. And it will make you sad. Yes, that’s right. The film is able to escape the bounds of comedy and actually draw a tear. The prime reason for this has to be the ‘Yeti’ scene, when Kim trudges up the mountain in the early hours of the morning only to discover who leaves the mysterious first tracks in the powder and reach her snow-coated, sun-licked catharsis. And then she has some serious steeze as she flips and carves her way down.

The “Safety First” Line 

This line deserves a mention because, although it is traumatic to watch two people snog in ski helmets and then say that, it is just really funny. Like, in a horrible, disgusting, second-hand embarrassment way. Kim is able to leave her sarcasm and cynicism at the door and embrace the cringing humour she spends the film exasperatedly sighing at. And, after about 15 rewatches, I can confirm that this line never misses. The perfect ending to the perfect film.