Presque rien

"Presque rien," a simple story of two 19-year-old youths who meet and fall in love while both are on summer vacation, offers an affecting romance of vascillating passion.

Told by director Sebastian Lifshitz and writers Stephane Bouquet and Lifshitz through a series of vignettes--often presented in a nonsequential timeline--the unfoldment provides some work on the part of the viewer to position these disjointed fragments together.

However, the basic scenario is so simple that the unfoldment does unite in post-reflection. It is an interesting tale, made plausible by two fine performances by the leads.

Jeremie Elkaim as Matthiew evokes a slightly moody, troubled youth, longing for affection, and willing to give of himself in a new relationship. Elkaim's work beautifully conveys Matthiew's need for companionship and for escape from a staid and mundane domestic environment.

Stephane Rideau presents yet another of his remarkable performances as Cedric. Rideau immerses himself in the role so skillfully that his craft brilliance is taken for granted. As close to the late James Dean as has been seen recently, Rideau takes his place in the Alain Delon legacy as one of France's leading young actors. Rideau possesses an arresting countenance: even his pointed ears, protruding chin, an off-centered eye, and crooked lips seem to contribute to his handsomeness. His Cedric is non-intellectual, expressing primitive emotions in his approach to life; yet, his ardor for Matthiew rings undeniably genuine and true.

The rest of the cast of "Presque rien" contribute to this slice-of-life tale, and we are pleased to have an opportunity to glimpse fragments of a both playful and poignant summertime romance.

Stephane Rideau was already a star for his tour de force in "Wild Reeds," and he is one of France's biggest indie stars. In this film, he plays Cedric, a local boy who meets vacationing Mathieu (newcomer Jamie Elkaim, in a stunning, nuanced, ethereal performance) at the beach. Mathieu has a complex relationship with his ill mother, demanding aunt and sister (with whom he has a competitive relationship). Soon, the two are falling in love.

The film's fractured narrative -- which is comprised of lengthy flash-backs, bits and pieces of the present, and real-time forward-movement into the future -- is a little daunting. Director Sebastien Lifshitz doesn't signal which time-period we are in, and the story line can be difficult to follow. But stick it out: The film's final 45 minutes are so engrossing that you won't be able to take your eyes off the screen. By turns heart-breaking and uplifting, this film ranks with "Beautiful Thing" as must-see cinema.

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.

An adult, realistic, cruel, dark story, like a second part of "les roseaux savages" (the wild reeds), plenty of beauty and sadness, ellipsis and silences, shadows and little sparks of hope. a man searching for a warm companion, a better life, a sincere attitude.

'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