1er amour

Whoa.

Hold on a second.

What the hell just happened?

Trauma, maximized.

Traditional everything, capsized.

An idyllic summer of youthful exploration, satirized.

Desire and the literary imagination, terrorized.

Or distilled, depending on whether or not young Antoine (Loïc Esteves) and Anna (Marianne Fortier) can poetically compute.

The setting is idyllic. Traditional notions of marriage are elevated. The pivotal moment synthesizes far too many constitutional traumatic clefts for Guillaume Sylvestre's 1er amour not to be considered satirical.

While trying to write a breakthrough novel.

Classical music, cicading un/aware.

The shots of the insects etc. innocently foreshadow.

Is M. Sylvestre trying to classically pinpoint a salacious oxymoronic yet foundational postmodern quintessence or simply diagnosing a psychiatrist's dream?

The final image of the boat speeding away, the family unit confined yet in constant motion, offers little guidance.

But that look on his face.

The risk factor, Lothario, focus on the risk factor.

I might have released this in November.

Solid satire.