Grande École - Sex ist eine Welt für sich

"Grand ecole" aspires to be the sort of existential drama that the French New Wave directors produced in the 1950s and 1960. It pours race, class, economic status, history and sexuality into a big martini shaker and pours out a heady concoction.

But just what the film is, in the end, is not clear at all.

Paul is the hunky son of a Marseilles contractor. Raised to be brilliant but also racist (snubbing Arabs) and classist (snubbing blue-collar workers and the poor), Paul is sent to an elite Parisian economics college where he is supposed to learn about management and marketing. But Paul isn't his father's son. He's artistically-minded (which should be your first clue about his inner life) and rejects his father's biases. Soon, Paul has taken up with Agnes, a young woman who is attending the liberal-arts university next door and who is an avid supporter of human rights.

One of Paul's roommates is Louis-Arnault, a hunky business major with a penchant for water polo (he comes from a legendarily wealthy background) and girls. The other is the materialistic, shallow, rich boy, Chouquet.

Paul has a stunning girlfriend, the beautiful Emeline, who also attends the school of economics. While Louis-Arnault's and Emeline's relationship seems stable and loving, Paul's relationship with Agnes seems a bit rockier. Paul loves Agnes, but is a little emotionally and physically withdrawn from her.

It's not long before Paul develops an intense homosexual crush on the handsome, athletic Louis-Arnault -- even going so far as to steal his boxers! Then the handsome Arabian blue-collar worker, Mecir, arrives on campus as part of the construction crew renovating buildings on the school grounds. Paul is equally attracted to Mecir.

Agnes is no dummy: She senses Paul's ambivalence and proposes a test. If Paul seduces Louis-Arnault first, Agnes will leave and never say a word. If Agnes seduces Louis-Arnault first, then Paul must give up his homosexual longings and be exclusively heterosexual and monogamous with her.

The great problem with the film is that it is not entirely clear why Agnes would suggest such a thing. For his part, Paul never agrees to Agnes' plan -- so just what does Agnes think she is doing?

After the first hour, Chouquet drops completely out of the picture -- which is frustrating. Mecir figures more and more prominently in Paul's sex life and emotions. But just as the viewer expects religion to become an issue (Mecir is clearly a practicing Muslim), it doesn't.

Much more satisfying is the film's extensive commentary on the emotional desert that is capitalism, greed and materialism. There is a tremendously important and well-written discussion during the film's climax that is a real wonder. The grand ideas fly fast and furious, and the writing and acting is pure gold there.

For the most part, however, the film's sexual themes -- which are ostensibly it's raison d'etre -- are muddy. The film's commentaries on race, class, materialism and the burden of history are much clearer and more satisfying.

Overall, the quality of the acting is rather good. Salim Kechiouche is superb, and Gregori Baquet has his moments. Also rising above the fray is Alice Taglioni, who is subtle and powerful as the put-upon Agnes.

The direction, cinematography and editing are nothing to write home about.

But "Grand ecole" is worth the effort, even if it is ultimately an exercise in frustration.

From reading other reviews this may be one of those movies that seems to be about whatever is most important to the viewer. To some it is mostly about capitalism and class / social castes. To others it is more a love story. To me the love story seemed central, with it feeling like a movie by gay men for gay men. We start with two decent looking guy roommates, one of which clearly is into the other, who seems to return friendship only. Both men are dating women. A working class love interest Mécir, played by Salim Kechiouche, comes into the life of the obviously conflicted gay lead, Paul. Paul is torn between apparently unreturned love for his male roommate, his sociality acceptable relationship with a woman, and an openly gay lover who doesn't easily fit into the life he feels expected to lead.

Being a French movie, English speakers must be prepared for subtitles. There is a fair amount of frontal male nudity in the film, and being a French film, yes the men are naturally uncircumcised. The nudity is always incidental and mostly in a single locker room scene, a scene which perfectly captured the discomfort I felt in gym class myself as a gay teen. The fear of being caught looking at the other guys contrasted against the potential delight of being surrounded by dozens of fit nude peers. It is tough to understand people being uncomfortable with the frontal nudity when it isn't used in a sexual way. Still, if frontal male nudity bothers you, perhaps you shouldn't watch. There is minimal female nudity. Since questions are raised about what is the perversion, homosexuality, or the insistence on fitting into societal norms despite one's feelings, it seems strange to find reviewers debating something as basic as casual nudity.

Stories of unrequited love and love triangles have been told many times before, and probably told better. But as a gay man, the conflicts Paul felt were very familiar and real to me, and the story took me back to an early time in my life. I could certainly sympathize with his situation. It was easy to be drawn to the character of Mécir. Not only is he a feast for the eyes, I also found myself trying to will Paul to wake up and realize that Mécir was the only choice of the three with a likelihood for long-term happiness. As in life though, nothing is quite so simple. If you want to know more, you might well enjoy the movie. Feedback on this review is welcome.

It's seems impossible to not compare this type of French cinema with its American counterpart. As is usually the case, the French is just so much more interesting, faults and all. This may be an over ambitious project, but there is a message in there somewhere, (or rather too many messages). It's a bit frenetic at times, but this may be due to the director's lack of experience.

Director Robert Salis' technique is to hurl as much as possible onto the screen in the hope that something will stick. Many elements of the plot are not really thought through producing some confusing moments. It's also tends to be very wordy, which may work for those fortunate enough to understand the language, but makes for lots of subtitle reading.

However in the final analysis enough actually sticks, making this not an unmemorable film. Much has to do with an excellent performance by one Gregori Baquet who besides coasting on his abundant charisma, shows a wide dramatic range, controlled with intelligence.

A certain French eroticism pervades many of the scenes, but oddly enough, Salis' handling of the sex scenes (both hetero and homo) is less convincing. There is something decidedly mechanical about them.

However, one does get absorbed into the lives of this group of young Frenchmen coming to terms with society, their personal futures, their sexuality and life in general.

As there are enough synopses already written, I'll just concentrate on the feel of the movie. It does have some very homoerotic scenes with full frontal. But it also has some very dysfunctional themes; such as a man who is obviously homosexual but who chooses to stay with a long-time girlfriend. Were he bisexual, this would be understandable and even acceptable. But it just comes off as one confused character taking advantage of anyone around him that will let him. I'm not sure if this was what the film was going for, but no one seemed particular sympathetic here.

There's a touch of Rohmer in "Grande Ecole". Characters, set in unglamorous, surburban spaces, are just a little too intent and penetrating to be real. Their emotions are simple, yet surprisingly delicate. They experience no jealousy or revenge, but desire, self-doubt and tenderness. Like Rohmer's, Salis' movies feel too nostalgic and sweet to be topical, and that aestheticism is put to the use of tolerance and humanism. Sex scenes for example are remarkable. Homo- and heterosexual love become comparable because Salis makes caressing and enticing the cornerstone of every sexual encounter. The movie however becomes overtly theatrical towards the end, and does not tune in with the closure that Rohmer would have gone for. Salis resolves conflicts, by now difficult to disentangle, only by confusing the viewer to a point of no return and settling for the beauty of seeing all characters reunited finally, if not in the movie, at least on the screen: him and her, and him and her, and him.