Close is a portrait of before & after, of the intimacy of friendship & the devastation of losing it, with an astonishing performance at the center.
Underneath the Belgian summer sun, Léo (Eden Dambrine) and Rémi (Gustav De Waele) share a friendship as intimate as it is innocent. This innocence is disrupted and Close is the story of that disruption. When outside forces make their way into a relationship they have no place in, altering it forever, how do two young boys learning to navigate the world cope with that loss? The answer is both shattering and hopeful as writer-director Lukas Dhont’s sophomore feature reveals a stunning portrait of before and after, of the intimacy of friendship and the devastation of losing it, all with Dambrine’s astonishing performance at the center.
Léo and Rémi, two 13-year-olds, spend the summer as boys are wont to do — hiding from make-believe soldiers and whisking through the fields of flowers where Léo’s family works. Endless sleepovers and hushed conversations reveal the closeness shared between the two in the bucolic bubble they’ve created. Soon, though, school starts, and Léo and Rémi’s relationship is put under the scrutiny of their peers’ watchful eyes. Affection gives way to fear and, when Léo begins to distance himself from Rémi, the transition from youthful innocence to adolescent awareness becomes too much to bear for Rémi.
Close debuted at the Cannes Film Festival last year, four years after Dhont won the Camera d’Or and the Queer Palm for his controversial film Girl. Close won the Grand Prix, sharing it with Claire Denis’ Stars at Noon. The film was also nominated for Best International Film at the 2023 Academy Awards, and it’s not hard to see why. With an acute eye, Dhont tells his story through closely observed moments rather than dialogue-heavy scenes, a choice that lends the film a heightened sense of intimacy complementary to Léo and Rémi’s relationship, which remains ambiguous throughout the film.
After the release of Girl, Dhont initially said that his next film would have a queer character at its center. In the end, Close‘s ambiguity in regard to the sexual identity of its two young leads is a choice that makes the film a much more poignant examination of male friendship and how the world doesn’t let boys — queer or not — love each other. Whether Léo and Rémi’s affection for each other extends beyond something platonic is a question that never gets answered, and it’s all the more tragic that they weren’t given the time to ponder because of the outside forces that make their way into the boys’ idyll.
The effect that this relationship has on Léo and Rémi is what matters and De Waele and Dambrine portray an emotional complexity that is stunning to behold. Dambrine has much more to do, especially in the latter half of the film, but he carries the burden with a resolve that makes it all the more heartbreaking when the cracks do begin to show. Grief creeps into the corners of the film and watching Léo slowly realize what he has lost is a gut-wrenching process, especially when it’s juxtaposed against the raw nerve that is Émilie Dequenne, who plays Rémi’s mother Sophie. Léa Drucker, who stars as Léo’s mother Nathalie, is an anchor for the film, even as she watches helplessly while her youngest son is forced to deal with immeasurable loss.
Ultimately, what makes Close so crushing is the journey Léo is left with beyond the indelible final image. Dhont forgoes an obvious ending for a more understated closing, one that underscores the idea that, in the face of irreparable loss, Léo is one of the lucky ones. In some ways, he will be able to move on and heal. Rémi won’t get that chance. Dhont chooses forgiveness, not malice or resentment, even though it would, in some ways, be justified.
Close is now playing in select theaters. The film is 105 minutes long and rated PG-13 for thematic material involving suicide and brief strong language.