When filmmakers claim to be inspired by the Safdie brothers, they’re really talking about Jean-Pierre and Luc Dardenne, the Belgian sibling duo who had already pioneered a certain type of social realism: they cast non-professional actors, shoot them in real locations, and follow their characters with a trademark over-the-shoulder camera angle. Josh Safdie once said it himself to Variety: “Everyone always brings up the Coen brothers to us. And we always say, ‘No, for us it’s the Dardennes.’”

After starting out in documentaries, the Dardenne brothers – Luc is 71, Jean-Pierre is 74 – have for decades mastered the art of small, powerful, naturalistic dramas about outsiders overcoming everyday obstacles. In 1999, they won the Palme d’Or for Rosetta, a coming-of-ager about a struggling, caravan-residing teen in Belgium. In 2005, they won the Palme d’Or again for L’Enfant, which followed an 18-year-old mother who amidst financial troubles gets entangled in the black-market adoption industry.

Young Mothers, the Dardennes’ best film in a while, also tackles teenage pregnancies, but does so through multiple storylines. The duo originally imagined a film based around one fresh-faced woman who’s struggling to connect with her child. Upon visiting a shelter in Liège for teen mothers and expectant mothers, the Dardennes reworked their plan: they decided, in their 70s, to write and direct their first ensemble drama.

“We were struck by the life in that maternity home, and all the people living together” says Luc, via an interpreter, in London, two days before the theatrical release. “We didn’t want the film to be so carefully constructed that it becomes about the maternity home. We wanted each young woman to have her own individual story.”

“We did each story in columns,” says Jean-Pierre, sat next to his brother. “They each had their own aims, and their own light at the end of their journey. They’re fragile, but will pull through.”

They explain their process in deep detail, including the fact that, after lengthy discussions, Luc writes the scripts on his own. When I question why that’s the case, they stare at me blankly with amusement: why not? I also express surprise that the plotting was so mathematical: it felt like watching a documentary.

“The main thing is that, in the editing, it can’t be like in TV where you have cliffhangers that will be resolved later,” says Luc. “You can’t be too invested in one story, because then you won’t connect to the next one.” He describes a row between a teen and her mother. “You can’t cut it with them screaming at each other. There’s another scene, like a provisional ending, so that you can go onwards to something else.”

In Young Mothers, the first image is of young Jessica (Babette Verbeek), who is pregnant, lurking at a bus stop, and hoping to encounter her birth mother. Like the other female characters, Jessica is a product of her upbringing; if she can understand why her mother gave her up, then perhaps her own child could lead a different future. One heart-stopping scene has Jessica taking a photo of her birth mother that she will one day show her child; the picture is delayed so that Jessica’s mother can wipe away tears.

Similarly, Ariane (Janaina Halloy Fokan) has already given birth but is wary of receiving help from her mother, Nathalie (Christelle Cornil), an alcoholic with an abusive partner. As a 15-year-old mother, Ariane desperately needs help; her negotiations with Nathalie are so raw, prickly, and open-hearted, it feels like we’re watching an improvised scene. In reality, the Dardennes’ films are meticulously scripted, rehearsed, and blocked. If these were big-name actors, they’d be Oscar contenders. Instead, at Cannes, the film won the Best Screenplay prize.

The two other dominant plot lines involve Perla (Lucie Laruelle), a teenage mother who’s dismayed when the father, Robin (Gunter Duret), gets out of juvie and considers parenthood to be low in his priorities. More romance is evident with Julie (Elsa Houben) and Dylan (Jef Jacobs), a young couple who adore each other and their baby, but are recovering drug addicts. It’s these themes – addiction, poverty, violence – that connect the mothers, despite their distinct personalities.

The fifth mother, Naima (Samia Hilmi), has a job and is moving into a flat with her child. A warm send-off for Naima is one of the film’s earned moments of optimism. While drama is traditionally rooted in conflict, Young Mothers is driven by acts of kindness towards those less fortunate.

“From the beginning, we wanted to make sure that each of them would be able to find an exit door to their situation, to be able to pull through,” says Jean-Pierre. “Even if for some of them, that light at the end of the tunnel is very, very dim – it’s there. In each story, that light is due to the mutual help of another human.”

It’s something we have to remember: when you make a film, it has to be as if you’re doing it for the first time

Jean-Pierre speaks of amazement that each mother had three babies they alternated between for takes, but, in the finished film, each mother used the same baby for all their scenes. “Some of the mothers formed a genuine bond with that baby,” he says. “More than with the other ones.”

The Dardennes’ previous film was Tori and Lokita, a drama about two Black adolescents, and now they’ve written dialogue for a plethora of young women living in poverty. I bring up the fact that they’re both white men in their 70s. When writing the script, do they imagine themselves as the characters?

“I’m not saying this to be pretentious, but if you’re an artist – whether it’s a filmmaker, poet, or writer – if you’re not able to find that young girl or boy in you, then perhaps you shouldn’t be making films,” says Luc. “It doesn’t have to be a child. The gender doesn’t matter. We’re white men of a certain age, but this is what art enables you to do. We have empathy for these young mothers and everyone else as well.”

When I ask if the Dardennes recognise their influence in younger filmmakers, they spin it around and list some of the newer directors that inspire them: Ryusuke Hamaguchi, Joachim Trier, Carla Simón, Justine Triet, the Safdies, and Charlotte Wells. “When you watch Aftersun, you feel the freedom of the filmmaking,” says Jean-Pierre. “It’s something we have to remember: when you make a film, it has to be as if you’re doing it for the first time.”

With time drawing to a close, I tell the Dardennes that I hope to interview them for their next film, or perhaps individually if they become competitors. “The Safdie brothers and the Coen brothers are working separately,” Jean-Pierre muses. “I’m not sure it’s always a good thing.” He comically bends his back, grabbing an invisible walking stick. “The Safdies are young. For us, it’s too late to work alone. We’ll continue to work together, and we’ll support each other as we work. It is our destiny.”

Young Mothers is out in UK cinemas on August 29.