Sommer wie Winter...

"Come Undone" appears to elicit a lot of opinions among the contributors to this forum. Granted, it's a film that promises a take on gay life, as most viewers expect and somehow, it gets away from that promise into an introspective view at a young man's soul. The film has a way of staying with us even when it has ended. It is a character study about how a young man gets involved into a love affair with someone so much different than him that, in the end, will leave Mathieu confused, hurt and depressed when things don't go according to what he hoped the relationship would be.

If you haven't seen the film, perhaps you would like to stop reading.

Sebastien Lifshitz, the director of the film, has told his story from Mathieu's viewpoint. Most viewers appear to be disoriented by the different times within the film, but there are hints that are not obvious, as one can see, in retrospect. The story is told in flashbacks that might add to the way some people will view the film. This is a story about the doomed the love Mathieu felt for Cedric and the ultimate breakdown of their life together.

First of all, Cedric, the handsome young local, pursues Mathieu until he succeeds in convincing him he likes him. Mathieu feels the attraction for Cedric too. We realize how different both young men are by the way Cedric tells Mathieu's family how he feels school is not for him. On the other hand, Mathieu, who wants to be an architect, finds beauty in the abandoned place where Cedric has taken him. We watch as Mathieu, reading from the guide book, wants Cedric's attention.

When Mathieu comes out to his mother, she wisely tells him about the importance of continuing his career. She also points out about what future both of them would have together, which proves to be true. Mathieu appears to have learned his lesson, the hard way. He goes on to an uncertain life with Cedric and attempts to take his own life. We watch him in the hospital speaking to a psychiatrist that has treated his wounded soul.

The ending might be confusing for most viewers, but there is a moment in the film when Mathieu goes to work in a bar where we see him washing glasses and looking intently to Pierre, the young man who frequents the bar. That is why when Mathieu goes looking for Pierre at his house, appears to be hard to imagine. Yet, we have seen the way Mathieu is obviously interested in Pierre. The last scene at the beach, when Pierre and Mathieu are seen strolling in the sand, has a hopeful sign that things will be better between them as they watch a young boy, apparently lost, but then realizing the father is nearby.

Jeremie Elkaim makes Mathieu one of the most complex characters in recent films. This is a young man who is hard to understand on a simple level. Mathieu has suffered a lot, first with the separation of his parents, then with his depressed mother and with losing Cedric. Stephan Rideau, who has been seen on other important French films, is equally good, as the shallow Cedric.

While "Come Undone" will divide opinions, the film deserves a viewing because of the complexity and the care Sebastien Lifshitz gives to the story.

Only after some contemplation did I decide I liked this movie. And after reading comments from all the other posters here, and thinking about it some more, I decided that I liked it tremendously. I love American films - probably because they are so narrative. They usually have a well-defined beginning, middle, and end. "Presque rien," on the other hand, makes no such attempt. I disagree with other posters that say it's 'too artsy.' In every way, this film is meant to evoke your sense memories. So often throughout the film you feel like you're there... you feel the summer sun, the breezes, the heat, the winter chill, the companionship, the loneliness, etc., etc.

In every way, the director pulls you into the lives of the characters - which is why so many people feel so strongly that the movie disappointed them. After I finished watching it, I felt the same. But upon some reflection, I recognized that this is how the movie had to be: the 'story' isn't the narrative, it's the emotions you (the viewer) feel.

The lighting, scenery, and camera angles immerse you in the scenes - they're rich, exquisite, and alive with detail and nuance. Although I normally cannot countenance films without a fully developed plot (after all, isn't a movie 'supposed' to tell a story), this film is definitely one of my new favorites.

'Presque Rien' ('Come Undone') is an earlier work by the inordinately gifted writer/ director Sébastien Lifshitz (with the collaboration of writer Stéphane Bouquet - the team that gave us the later 'Wild Side'). As we come to understand Lifshitz's manner of storytelling each of his works becomes more treasureable. By allowing his tender and sensitive love stories to unfold in the same random fashion found in the minds of confused and insecure youths - time now, time passed, time reflective, time imagined, time alone - Lifshitz makes his tales more personal, involving the viewer with every aspect of the characters' responses. It takes a bit of work to key into his method, but going with his technique draws us deeply into the film.

Mathieu (handsome and gifted Jérémie Elkaïm) is visiting the seaside for a holiday, a time to allow his mother (Dominique Reymond) to struggle with her undefined illness, cared for by the worldly and wise Annick (Marie Matheron) and accompanied by his sister Sarah (Laetitia Legrix): their distant father has remained at home for business reasons. Weaving in and out of the first moments of the film are images of Mathieu alone, looking depressed, riding trains, speaking to someone in a little recorder. We are left to wonder whether the unfolding action is all memory or contemporary action.

While sunning at the beach Mathieu notices a handsome youth his age starring at him, and we can feel Mathieu's emotions quivering with confusion. The youth Cédric (Stéphane Rideau) follows Mathieu and his sister home, continuing the mystery of attraction. Soon Cédric approaches Mathieu and a gentle introduction leads to a kiss that begins a passionate love obsession. Mathieu is terrified of the direction he is taking, rebuffs Cédric's public approaches, but continues to seek him out for consignations. The two young men are fully in the throes of being in love and the enactment of the physical aspect of this relationship, so very necessary to understanding this story, is shared with the audience in some very erotic and sensual scenes. Yet as the summer wears on Mathieu, a committed student, realizes that Cédric is a drifter working in a condiment stand at a carnival. It becomes apparent that Cédric is the Dionysian partner while Mathieu is the Apollonian one: in a telling time in architectural ruin Mathieu is excited by the beauty of the history and space while Cédric is only interested in the place as a new hideaway for lovemaking.

Mathieu is a complex person, coping with his familial ties strained by critical illness and a non-present father, a fear of his burgeoning sexuality, and his nascent passion for Cédric. Their moments of joy are disrupted by Cédric's admission of infidelity and Mathieu's inability to cope with that issue and eventually they part ways. Time passes, family changes are made, and Mathieu drifts into depression including a suicide attempt. The manner in which Mathieu copes with all of these challenges and finds solace, strangely enough, in one of Cédric's past lovers Pierre (Nils Ohlund) brings the film to an ambiguous yet wholly successful climax.

After viewing the film the feeling of identification with these characters is so strong that the desire to start the film from the beginning now with the knowledge of the complete story is powerful. Lifshitz has given us a film of meditation with passion, conflicts with passion's powers found in love, and a quiet film of silences and reveries that are incomparably beautiful. The entire cast is superb and the direction is gentle and provocative. Lifshitz is most assuredly one of the bright lights of film-making. In French with English subtitles. Highly Recommended. Grady Harp

'Presque Rien' is a beautifully observed portrait of the experiences of a young French homosexual. Eschewing both stereotypes and preaching, it's a wonderfully naturalistic film, superbly acted, shot with a feel for the seaside town where the action takes place, never melodramatic but often painfully real. If anything it's almost too realistic, as there's little in the way of conventional plot, just scenes from a life. But the absence of conventional dramatic tension counts for less than it might in a world so subtly drawn. 'Presque Rien' might not be the most exciting film ever made; but its simple humanism serves it well compared with the pre-conceived celebratory or bigoted viewpoints that often mar treatments of this theme. Worth a watch.

It gives not a story. Just sensations, emotions , drawings of states. But the atmosphere remains the lead virtue. And the performances, near cinematography are good reasons to see it. Again. A film about family and about profound loneliness. Romance, at the first sigh. But , in essence, more. A film for feel it. The nuances, the colors, the tension, the air, the flavours, the decisions, the sounds, the bitterness. And to see as familiar all. The portrait of mother by Dominique Raymond represents a real good poin. Like the performance of Jeremie Elkaim.