Sauvage – first look review

Among the prizes up for grabs in Cannes, 15 films this year are com­pet­ing for the Queer Palm, an inde­pen­dent award which recog­nis­es the treat­ment of LGBT themes across the pro­gramme. Sauvage, the debut fea­ture by film stud­ies pro­fes­sor-turned-direc­tor Camille Vidal-Naquet, offers an entry with a skin-prick­ling ener­gy that remains – regard­less of what it might take home.

In an entire­ly hand­held (but always pre­cise) frame, Leo (Felix Mar­i­taud) wan­ders the streets of Stras­bourg. He’s look­ing for, and look­ing to sell, love. A role play doc­tor, a man in a wheel­chair and an age­ing wid­ow­er crav­ing to be held; Leo’s clients are as curi­ous­ly fas­ci­nat­ing as his body is wel­com­ing. There are no for­get­table peo­ple or unnec­es­sary events. Vidal-Naquet’s script is sharp, brim­ming with pas­sion across a lean 97 minutes.

Sauvage carves a sto­ry through its hand­some char­ac­ters, rather than pro­vid­ing a dis­tanced com­men­tary about the com­mu­ni­ty of male pros­ti­tu­tion. Faces imme­di­ate­ly ooze empa­thy and dis­gust in turn; laugh­ter is infec­tious when Leo folds into child’s pose as he lies down for a doc­tor, but it’s dif­fi­cult to watch while two clients make him bleed and he can’t beg for it to stop.

Break­ing taboos and chal­leng­ing the con­fines of what we know about male sex work­ers, Sauvage is brave and care­ful­ly insight­ful. But first and fore­most, it’s a sto­ry about a boy who’s still search­ing for him­self. Search­ing for affec­tion, search­ing for con­trol, Leo wan­ders and skips across the steps that bruise his body and prod at his heart with tenderness.

Off the back of queer sen­sa­tion BPM with a career-shap­ing role, Mar­i­taud is mag­net­ic as Leo. At once lost and painstak­ing­ly focused, he has the cheeky sex appeal of a brood­ing teenag­er and the child­like kind­ness that is so dif­fi­cult to main­tain once your heart has been bro­ken. And the actor immers­es him­self phys­i­cal­ly as well; from the nip­ple pierc­ing so loved by his cus­tomers to the many tat­toos scrawled over every inch of his skin.

Just above the belt you can read: ​“Rien à foutre” tat­tooed in a bold goth­ic type­face, which would loose­ly trans­late to some­thing about not giv­ing a fuck. It’s not used as a plot point or com­ment­ed on by any­one – but in this clue lies the aching­ly beau­ti­ful con­tra­dic­tions of Leo, and of Sauvage. There is noth­ing to care about that aligns with the prej­u­dice, van­i­ty, or mal­ice that the pre­con­cep­tions of this lifestyle tend to sug­gest. But the instinc­tive, often reck­less hunt for love is what gives the film its beat­ing heart.