Paulette -

Paulette’s foray into drug dealing is born of necessity, but it is fueled by her dormant entrepreneurial spirit. After observing a drug bust, she approaches a local kingpin and begins selling hashish. Her true breakthrough occurs when she pivots from raw sales to "Space Cakes"—utilizing her skills as a former pastry chef to infuse narcotics into high-end biscuits and Afghan cookies. This shift represents more than just a business strategy; it is a return to her identity as a creator and provider, bridging her "personal belle époque" with her current reality.

The film’s central irony is that an illegal trade—the very thing she once associated with the "criminal immigrants" she dreaded—becomes the bridge back to her family and community. As her business grows, she recruits her trio of card-playing friends as partners, finding solidarity in their shared age and invisibility. More significantly, her reliance on the neighborhood youth for protection and the eventual rescue of her grandson by Ousmane forces her to confront the humanity of those she previously dehumanized. While critics have noted that her "inevitable softening" feels unearned to some, her transformation from a woman who maces others over discarded produce to one who protects her family marks a significant emotional arc. Paulette

When the audience first meets Paulette, she is defined by her isolation. Once a successful restaurant owner alongside her husband, she has been reduced to scavenging for food and furniture after his death and the loss of their business. This economic desperation manifests as a virulent, xenophobic misanthropy; she blames immigrants for her downfall and directs racial slurs toward her own son-in-law, Ousmane, a police officer, and her bi-racial grandson. Her character is a "masterfully crafted bitter old misanthrope," using her age and perceived frailty as a shield for her "wicked, primordial sense of getting by." Paulette’s foray into drug dealing is born of