Anaïs in Love

Amidst an ever-con­cern­ing heat­wave, a cin­e­mat­ic sum­mer of seduc­tion has made itself known to audi­ences. Larg­er films like Good Luck To You, Leo Grande have sat side by side with indies like Claire Denis’ forth­com­ing Both Sides Of The Blade — yet few films to grace our screens this year have cap­tured queer desire. Answer­ing the drought is Char­line Bourgeois-Tacquet’s romance Anaïs In Love, effort­less­ly strikes a visu­al lan­guage that sat­is­fies the palette, yet leaves a yearn­ing for an unre­alised conclusion.

Flighty and caught up in her own thoughts, our hero­ine Anaïs (Anaïs Demousti­er) brings chaos wher­ev­er she goes. After meet­ing Daniel (Denis Poda­ly­dès) at a mutu­al friend’s par­ty, she imme­di­ate­ly begins an affair behind her boyfriend’s back. Quick­ly bored by Daniel’s lack of pas­sion, she turns her atten­tion to his girl­friend Emi­lie (Vale­ria Bruni Tedeschi), track­ing her down with the inten­tion of seduc­ing her. 

There’s a typ­i­cal­ly com­mon boy-meets-girl pat­ter that evades the nar­ra­tive of Anaïs In Love, which instead choos­es to fol­low the heady lust of a young woman in over her head. It’s pos­si­bly because of her fre­quent mis­steps that Anaïs is such a lik­able char­ac­ter, pleas­ant­ly absorbed in her own wants in a way that has an irre­sistible charm to out­siders. As the anchor of her own fast-paced jour­ney, her hec­tic zest for change is what moves the film to work as a whole. Anaïs In Love hits the right notes with­out try­ing too hard; every line is thought­ful, every move­ment is need­ed, and every pause for breath is a renewed chance to fall in love. As far as human emo­tions are con­cerned, there’s the per­fect bal­ance between talk­ing and phys­i­cal­i­ty, with enough silence in between to con­sid­er and digest each attempt of lust. 

In terms of sap­ph­ic film­mak­ing, Anaïs In Love is almost able to achieve per­fec­tion, the flir­ta­tious dance between Anaïs and Emelie’s unvar­nished atten­tions is seduc­tive in itself. There’s an unde­ni­able chem­istry present rarely spo­ken into exis­tence – yet when it’s acknowl­edged, it’s elec­tric. Con­trary to pop­u­lar stereo­types in queer romance films, there are no deaths, no peri­od dra­ma, and (whis­per it) no bit­ter end­ings of forced sep­a­ra­tion. There’s only hope and pos­si­bil­i­ty, sprin­kled with a pull of pas­sion that could lead to bet­ter things.

Like many things in life, the sub­tle down­fall of queer love lies in the hands of a man. The film’s first third is enjoy­able yet lacks a mor­eish­ness, set­ting Anaïs up for her next course of action while pro­vid­ing laughs at Daniel’s expense. As she quick­ly recog­nis­es, Daniel is a hin­drance, keep­ing view­ers from the course of action they know they tru­ly want to be lost in. Even so, it’s a small gripe, and one that ulti­mate­ly sat­is­fies in the long run. 

French queer cin­e­ma is strid­ing out at its best in Anaïs In Love, set to be a sure-fire com­fort hit for many gen­er­a­tions to come. Grab a sum­mer dress, lis­ten to Bette Davis Eyes, and set your heart on the attrac­tive woman danc­ing in front of you – with­in is a sure hit of seduc­tive satisfaction. 

Lit­tle White Lies is com­mit­ted to cham­pi­oning great movies and the tal­ent­ed peo­ple who make them.

By becom­ing a mem­ber you can sup­port our inde­pen­dent jour­nal­ism and receive exclu­sive essays, prints, month­ly film rec­om­men­da­tions and more.