Following his controversial debut feature comes Lukas Dhont‘s sophomore effort, Close: a tender and moving exploration of teenage friendship, tragedy and guilt. Selected as Belgium’s official entry into the Best International Feature category at the forthcoming 95th Academy Awards, Close has already earned itself a deluge of acclaim and accolades (including the Cannes’ Grand Prix) as it makes its UK premiere at the London Film Festival. Teen boys Leo and Remi are seemingly inseparable, a friendship that provides them both with great comfort and security. But when questions over the nature of their relationship begin to arise, they grow distant until tragedy strikes.
Films as pure-hearted as Close can be few and far between, yet director Lukas Dhont has crafted an effortlessly elegant and moving feature that places its young characters and their complicated emotions front and centre. Heartfelt and emotional, Close's screenplay (co-written by Dhont and Angelo Tijssens) thrives in its intimacy, allowing us to observe, feel and experience their bond, with the simplicity of its narrative benefiting the strength of its characters and theme work. Additionally, it avoids exploiting its characters (claims which befell Girl, Dhont's controversial debut outing) by refusing to chase answers -- it is more than happy for us to observe that which is left unsaid, undiscussed, undisclosed is respected.
So beautifully filmed and delicately shot, there is a surprising stillness to Close that allows the emotion to truly swell. Frank van den Eeden's cinematography captures an ever-blossoming friendship with a hazy quality that so stunningly reflects a childhood innocence; as the narrative progresses, it becomes stylistically tighter, the guilt with which Leo experiences threatening to suffocate him. Paired with Valentin Hadjadj's rather perfect score, so evocatively enhancing the emotional tidal wave the film carries you on, Close is so well-calibrated across the board.
If all was right in the world, Close should make a star out of lead Eden Dambrine, whose sensitive and mostly-internalised work is brimming with a maturity and depth that is rarely seen in such young actors. A remarkably controlled performance that suitably disguises the undercurrent of emotions that Leo has been forced to hide for years while letting them sneak to the surface ever so slightly over time, Dambrine's work is sophisticated beyond his years. Cultivating such rich chemistry with Gustav De Waele, who plays opposite him as Remi, the pair often convey so much with so little, a remarkable achievement for even veteran actors, nevermind newcomers to the industry. Émilie Dequenne and Léa Drucker deliver similarly impressive performances, their grief and responsibility so astonishingly conveyed.
Close is a beautifully directed, tragically told and emotionally shattering sophomore feature that could reduce even the stoniest of hearts to teary eyes by the time the credits roll. Rather than condense its emotional punch to a singular moment, it sits in the aftermath of tragedy, demonstrating enormous sophistication and skill from the talent across the board, but mainly its director, who calibrates the entire piece with such control. Close is undoubtedly a contender for the year's finest, most devastating film.