155 days in a row at the cinema! Today I saw French psychotic break The Wild Boys (Les Garçons Sauvages).
Wild Boys («Les Garçons Sauvages») is a film you never see coming until you’ve come and gone. And even then…
This Dead Poets Society on bad acid, this Lord of the Flies on mescaline is a film which owns its indie edge and bars no holds as it takes you on an explicit trip to where there’s every sort of coming except back. Fortunately, director Bertrand Mandico opts to keep the story simple, so despite the orgy of images that gush over us, we’re still able to follow the thread from beginning to end.
At the heart of the Wild Boys is gender roles and the movie plays with this more than a trans teen in their parents’ walk-in closet. The script strips artifices naked and then redresses them, takes wrongs and addresses them in a delivery as poetic as it is stark.
Like a date with me, most won’t enjoy this but no one will ever forget it. Go in forewarned, but never come out because the film goes so far over the top it brushes up against heaven.Out of a possible 10, I have 8 Fs to give.