Theo and Hugo

How’s this for a meet cute: two young dudes, Theo (Geof­frey Couët) and Hugo (François Nam­bot), lock eyes, hearts and every­thing else besides while wan­der­ing around a dun­geon-like con­fines of a gay sex club called L’Impact. When they realise that love might very well be in the air, the house lights flick­er on for a brief moment and a bout of intense pub­lic love­mak­ing begins.

It’s a won­der­ful open­ing episode, near-word­less in its exe­cu­tion and as dirty as it is swoon­ing­ly roman­tic. The post-coital eupho­ria of rid­ing hire bikes around the vacant Parisian sub­urbs at night is shat­tered when Theo boasts of hav­ing been so spell­bound that he didn’t both­er to use a con­dom. A ner­vous Hugo explains he’s HIV pos­i­tive and that his new play­mate should high-tail it to the near­est emer­gency room.

The pair’s mature, ratio­nal response to this tricky sit­u­a­tion com­plete­ly alters the tone of the film, which for a decent stretch works well as an instruc­tive guide to the ins and outs of the health­care sys­tem. It also con­firms that they both see their rela­tion­ship as being built on more than casu­al sex.

Alas, after this impres­sive first half, the film swift­ly falls to pieces, with zero ten­sion or any real sense of direc­tion. Couët and Nambot’s loved-up coo­ing can only hold time for so long, and when writ­ing-direct­ing two­some Olivi­er Ducas­tel and Jacques Mar­tineau ush­er in some adorably charm­ing locals whose job it is to dis­pel eth­nic and gen­der stereo­types, well, you might want to head for the door.

It’s a shame, because there’s such chem­istry, momen­tum and pas­sion to begin with, that the lack­lus­tre clos­ing fur­longs make it come across as even more under­pow­ered and repet­i­tive than it is. Still, both leads give it their all, even if there’s not the mate­r­i­al to give their per­for­mances the dra­mat­ic sus­te­nance they deserve.