It takes a while to figure out what's going on here: Though of humble background and no obvious prospects, young aspiring actor Paul is taken to a first-class seaside resort that's obviously a playground for the rich-everyone there rides horses and plays tennis, two things well outside his experience. Paul lets others accept that he belongs there, even fibbing about his circumstances a bit, particularly to win beautiful child of privilege Marie-Laure. (Though when he confesses his love to her, she is thoroughly bored by it; later she sleeps with him, yet remains exasperatingly fickle.)
But the only reason Paul is here is because he's being kept by his "godfather" Philippe, a middle-aged industrialist trapped in a loveless marriage just a Paul has been trapped by his loveless, broken family background. Cooly dispassionate, and so discreet that we almost never see any signs of physical involvement between Paul and Philippe, this is an interesting drama of unspoken yearnings and aching voids, particularly once Philippe-who's hardly the possessive type-realizes he's little more than an obstacle to the associations with peers that Paul is really attracted to. Nonetheless, the white lies Paul is building his new relationships are doomed to end them eventually; the boundaries of class may be invisible, but they are strong.
It's a low-key film that makes no judgment of its characters, and somewhat refreshingly, they aren't particularly judgmental of each other, either. The pathos in it comes ultimately from Paul's seduction into a world populated by people who can afford to take nothing seriously, and building up expectations that they're bound to disappoint without realizing what it means to him-because they have almost infinite options, and he has very few. (Yet even this is qualified by the fact that Paul does acquire one true friend here, in the art student Nicolas.)
Though we never see them so much as kiss, his relationship with Philippe is very poignant in the end, because whatever else there is of a transactional sexual nature between them, the older man is also the only person here who manifests any genuine, parental concern for Paul's feelings. The film doesn't glamorize their dynamic unnecessarily-it's clearly dependent on Philippe's wealth-but it's still touching that no matter what originally brought them together, the characters are finally bond more by real mutual caring than exploitation. That makes the film's abrupt denouement quite devastating.
It's kind of amazing that "Les amis" doesn't have a higher profile in the history of gay cinema. Even though the two main characters probably wouldn't define themselves as gay, and their lives are more complex than that label anyway, it's still a remarkably strong and positive portrait at a point when any gay content in movies was still typically caricatured, negative, comedic and/or sensationalized.
(P.S. Disregard the bizarre IMBD plot description of the protagonist as "flayed alive." Maybe that's a turn of phrase in another language that has some flippant meaning and doesn't work in translation--in any case, it suggests something lurid that has absolutely no basis in the character's psychology or physical being. An apt alternative would be something infinitely milder like "insecure.")
But the only reason Paul is here is because he's being kept by his "godfather" Philippe, a middle-aged industrialist trapped in a loveless marriage just a Paul has been trapped by his loveless, broken family background. Cooly dispassionate, and so discreet that we almost never see any signs of physical involvement between Paul and Philippe, this is an interesting drama of unspoken yearnings and aching voids, particularly once Philippe-who's hardly the possessive type-realizes he's little more than an obstacle to the associations with peers that Paul is really attracted to. Nonetheless, the white lies Paul is building his new relationships are doomed to end them eventually; the boundaries of class may be invisible, but they are strong.
It's a low-key film that makes no judgment of its characters, and somewhat refreshingly, they aren't particularly judgmental of each other, either. The pathos in it comes ultimately from Paul's seduction into a world populated by people who can afford to take nothing seriously, and building up expectations that they're bound to disappoint without realizing what it means to him-because they have almost infinite options, and he has very few. (Yet even this is qualified by the fact that Paul does acquire one true friend here, in the art student Nicolas.)
Though we never see them so much as kiss, his relationship with Philippe is very poignant in the end, because whatever else there is of a transactional sexual nature between them, the older man is also the only person here who manifests any genuine, parental concern for Paul's feelings. The film doesn't glamorize their dynamic unnecessarily-it's clearly dependent on Philippe's wealth-but it's still touching that no matter what originally brought them together, the characters are finally bond more by real mutual caring than exploitation. That makes the film's abrupt denouement quite devastating.
It's kind of amazing that "Les amis" doesn't have a higher profile in the history of gay cinema. Even though the two main characters probably wouldn't define themselves as gay, and their lives are more complex than that label anyway, it's still a remarkably strong and positive portrait at a point when any gay content in movies was still typically caricatured, negative, comedic and/or sensationalized.
(P.S. Disregard the bizarre IMBD plot description of the protagonist as "flayed alive." Maybe that's a turn of phrase in another language that has some flippant meaning and doesn't work in translation--in any case, it suggests something lurid that has absolutely no basis in the character's psychology or physical being. An apt alternative would be something infinitely milder like "insecure.")