Departure | Little White Lies

Depar­ture

19 May 2016 / Released: 20 May 2016

Two young men in a shadowy, wooded setting, their faces partially obscured by foliage.
Two young men in a shadowy, wooded setting, their faces partially obscured by foliage.
3

Anticipation.

Every attempt to show that love knows no age and no gender is a worthwhile one.

4

Enjoyment.

Simply very moving.

4

In Retrospect.

It might cause a few intense and poetic flashbacks.

Young male love comes to the fore in this mov­ing com­ing-of-ager from first-time direc­tor Andrew Steggall.

This is a film which search­es for a def­i­n­i­tion of the word depar­ture.’ And it’s a good one by debut direc­tor Andrew Steggall. It sees Elliot (Alex Lawther) and his moth­er, Beat­rice (Juli­et Steven­son), clear­ing out their hol­i­day home in the South of France pri­or to sell­ing it off. A hand­some teenag­er, Clément (Phénix Brossard), enters the fray – he is stay­ing with his aunt while his moth­er is dying of can­cer. Beatrice’s mar­riage is falling apart while Elliot is try­ing to dis­cov­er what love real­ly is. Over a sin­gle week, the
pair review their mem­o­ries and search for answers.

Do you think you can know some­thing before you know it?” The film opens on this exis­ten­tial conun­drum that lifts it beyond your gar­den vari­ety com­ing-of-age movie. The rev­e­la­tions here are not restrict­ed to ado­les­cence. Elliot hides his homo­sex­u­al­i­ty because he fears refusal more than the opin­ion of oth­ers. With 40 years of missed oppor­tu­ni­ties behind her, his moth­er has to grap­ple with a deep sense of regret. Steggall doesn’t spare his char­ac­ters from crit­i­cism, but he takes time to depict their inner transformations.

Visu­al­ly, the film is sweet­ly poet­ic. Still shots of small details might seem unas­sum­ing at first, but they all find a sym­me­try in lat­er scenes. This tech­nique cre­ates a total immer­sion with­in the char­ac­ters’ inner lives. The film looks like an impres­sion­ist paint­ing: pale colours are light­ened by the sun, while the sound­track car­ries with it a strange feel­ing of melan­cholic opti­mism. But the most mov­ing emo­tions are held in Alex Lawther’s eyes: he hides his character’s doubts and despair behind a gen­uine indo­lence typ­i­cal of smart teenagers.

His look – and par­tic­u­lar­ly his over­sized mil­i­tary jack­et and note­book – recalls the roman­tic poets of yes­ter­year, espe­cial­ly the young Arthur Rim­baud, men­tioned sev­er­al times in the boys’ con­ver­sa­tions about sex and sex­u­al­i­ty. Steven­son and Brossard’s per­for­mances also ring out­stand­ing­ly true, par­tic­u­lar­ly as Elliot’s ques­tion­ing leads them to engage in their own moments of introspection.

You might like