Comme un frère

far to be a bad film, its sin is the less courage to give a specific voice. the courage to be more than a sketch. because it propose suggestions. the relation between Sebastian and Romain. the relation between Sebastian and Bruno. the relation with Marine. or with his father. the result is a kind of "Pointilism". and the theme of young man looking for better life in Paris. nothing wrong and the tone is reasonable. but the film seems be a dance without music. and exercise to say the same well known story of the same selfish young man.

I agree, the storyline is slender. This is a portrait of a very young man in his first year of moving to the city, being out, juxtaposed with his recollections of the beautiful—and straight—best friend he left behind.

Maybe it's the locale, the language difference, the glimpses of French gay life, but I found this movie very watchable. I think I would be less forgiving (as an American) seeing the same story in an American film. The American version would be more of a straightforward story, I think, and almost certainly heavy-handed. This film is serious, but it's done with a light, gentle touch, and that makes it easier to take.

The movie flips between past and present without much concern for our keeping up with the story. In fact, the jumping around is a reflection of the boy's state of mind. I can't imagine an American film doing the same thing without a lot of dumbing down.

So, despite the familiar plot, if you can even call it that, I still think this is worthwhile. It's very filmic, and relatively uncompromising.

And, the main character's straight best friend is a f**king raving beauty.

The directors and star of Comme un frere were in town for a screening at the London Lesbian & Gay Film Festival yesterday. The screening I attended looked to be a sell-out, but I can only think that the audience was primarily attracted by the cunning use of a "boys on the beach" promotional photograph rather than any Fesitival buzz surrounding the film itself.

One of the directors spoke rather charmingly (in French) about how he was inspired by British cinema, particularly by the gritty realism of Mike Leigh and Stephen Frears. He found their films, however, too "noir" and hoped to make something more optimistic in Comme un frere. Well, all I can say is that the French idea of optimism is like the Luftwaffe's idea of town planning, so hopes were not particularly high.

Comme un frere (Like a Brother) is the tale of Zack (Benoit Deliere), a pretty blond lad who has come to Paris to explore his sexuality. He clubs, he hooks up on chat lines, he has a beauty routine that would put Elizabeth Arden to shame. But, as seems to be obligatory in all French cinema, he is pining for something.

That something is Romain (the extraordinarily beautiful Thibault Boucaux), his best friend, left behind in the Styx when Zack moved to the big city. Scenes of Zack and Romain on the beach, hanging about in cafés and even (platonically) sharing a bed have a tendresse that is deeply touching - but their scenes are filmed in a washed out grey that removes any sense of what made this time special for young Zack.

By contrast, the Paris scenes have a colourful vibrancy that makes one wonder why on earth Zack would be pining for his dreary seaside town, with or without the lovely Romain.

If you're thinking "It seems to me I've heard that song before" then you've nailed the problem with Comme un frere. Young men with unrequited crushes on their best friends have been a staple of gay cinema since the year dot, and Comme un frere has nothing new or fresh to add. The performances are generally good, with some real star potential from Boucaux, and the sex scenes are filmed with urgency and passion, but the inconclusive ending (which really does seem as if the producers just ran out of money and had to stop filming) and the absence of anything to make this stand out from the crowd make it a fairly lacklustre affair.

'Comme un frère' (Like a Brother) is a brief film by writers and directors Bernard Alapetite and Cyril Legann that succinctly examines the development of identity of a young lad over a period of less than a year. The technique of telling the story of the coming of sexual age of a boy is one that may confuse some viewers - the present is combined with the past in a patchwork manner, the only key that the past is the subject is the use of near monochrome film color that successfully suggests the blur that past events now faded affect the senses - becomes one of the more unique aspects of this little French film.

The story opens in Paris where young Sébastien/AKA Zack (Benoît Delière) sits in a café with his current boyfriend Bruno (Johnny Amaro) and lets it be known that it is his birthday. Bruno's questioning as to why Sébastien is not in a celebratory mood begins flashbacks of a year ago when Sébastien lived in the small coastal town of La Baule where he doted on his best friend Romain (Thibault Boucaux). Despite Romain's devotion and physical closeness to Sébastien, Romain is in love with Sophie (Amandine Maugy) whose best friend Marine (Adeline Ishiomin) is trying to attract the love interest of Sébastien. The four are close, but something is missing: Sébastien loves Romain and while the two have some beautifully tender moments together, Romain is not the gay boy Sébastien needs.

Sébastien leaves his provincial town for Paris, connects with his father (Michel Derville) and confides his true identity as a gay young man. His father is warmly supportive and suggests Sébastien move in with him. Sébastien (now called 'Zack') begins to visit clubs and eventually is absorbed into the gay life, yet he still dreams of Romain. After months pass and Zack is in a comfortable relationship (Patrick Esilva), Romain comes to Paris and the two now young men meet in a park - but where will this new reunion lead? The actors are for the most part very fine - especially Thibault Boucaux and Adeline Ishiomin - and the sensual aspects of the story are well captured with restraint. With a running time of only 55 minutes the story flies past the eyes much in the way memories bounce in the psyche and it is this manner that makes the story fresh. There should be more to come from the creators and certainly from some of the fine new actors in this film. In French with English subtitles. Grady Harp

Bernard Alapetite & Cyril Legann's film is allocated in two distinct moments: the present in which we catch a glimpse on young Sébastien's life, and the past, which sets the basis for everything he is experiencing now.

Why is it the past so important for most of us? Surely it's not only because we tend to have a glorified memory of years gone by. The past, after all, can sometimes fully define us if we manage to comprehend it. In the present, Sébastien is going to gay bars and hooking up with guys, but in the past only one boy occupied his every thought: his best friend Romain.

When Sébastien is alone, he draws Romain's body in a piece of paper. Here, the image is clearly the ideal and thus the unobtainable object. One moment exemplifies this assertion perfectly: when the two boys are lying in bed together, watching TV, the muffled sound of pornography coming from the background arouses Romain enough for him to fondle himself knowing that his friend is right there; as he proceeds to go to the bathroom Sébastien follows him and watches carefully how his friend masturbates frenetically. Except that he doesn't see his friend's facial expressions of joy, but rather his image reflected in the bathroom's mirror.

Why is the mirror important? For Jacques Lacan a relationship between the specular and the non-specular exists. The individual does not have direct access to the real of his body, it's only through the virtual image in the mirror plane that one gains such access. Although this indicates the necessary interposition of the Other, the Other of language. When Sébastien is looking at himself during the first minutes of the movie, his only concern is his physical appearance, and it should rightly be so as he intends to expose himself to the gaze of the other. This paradigmatic scheme is the foundation of narcissism, in which one's psychic energies are invested in one's own image thus making it lovable (for others).

But is the protagonist narcissistic? Every time Sébastien practices sex with other men he let his himself being penetrated; thus complying with what most people would label a "passive" position. There is, however, one instance in which he plays a most active role, and that is when he spends the night at Romain's place, and starts touching him and caressing him.

If Sébastien is truly narcissistic then the recognition placed upon himself by others would be undermined by a certain 'deceptiveness', because narcissism tends to mask the fact that I perceive myself from the Other's point of view. When Sebastian spies on his friend, draws him or thinks of him, he is indeed circumscribing himself into the sphere of the other's desire; and should he come to the conclusion that the other is no longer there to support him, then the first steps towards narcissism will be taken.