In (Paris: XY), a film in black and white, the director exposes a relationship of a couple (a "White" and a "Black") with a touch of poetry and a dull violence while sparing us the stereotypes of mixed marriages . Separated therefore from his Y, our hero X (x as unknown variable in algebra), the soul in pain knows its crossing of the desert. In this crossing of Paris (not funny at all) in search of the one that suddenly exists and counts, are revealed to him some truths in the mirror of his own life. among other things, we can not build a "family comfort" by ignoring the partner, while clinging to the bitter delights of his own origins.
(Paris: XY) invites reflection on the hard and pathetic love confrontation of beings who can not escape their own demons. A note of humanity all the same: children are born of these tumultuous loves. And these children (invisible in the film) constitute a link, a relationship to which the viewer clings. And the film becomes less black ... less pessimistic ... all nuances.
