Quasi niente

"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.

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.

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 seems that what French cinema does best is slice of life drama. Come Undone is one such drama, yet way above the quality that we've come to expect from the genre.

Director Sebastien Lifshitz slices the narrative, then pieces it together in a way which is at first confusing but which ultimately adds much to the emotional tone of the film. The meeting and parting of two boys in their late teens is related without offering much in the way of a clear explanation as to how or why. The emphasis being on the troubled emotional journey one of them undergoes as a result of the unexpected love relationship that develops.

Besides his keen cinematic eye, Lifshitz's major success is eliciting from both Jeremie Elkaim and Stephane Rideau totally convincing performances. There's not one false note sounded. The smaller parts too are handled well.

A deeply moving, beautifully played, complex film. One that certainly warrants more than one viewing.

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.