the perversity of love
by Douglas Messerli
Zeno Graton, Clara Bourreau, and Maarten Loix
(screenplay), Zeno Graton (director) Le paradis (The Lost Boys) /
2023
At
first, indeed, this Belgian school, compared with such US and British
institutions, might be seen as a kind of paradise. The boys’ immediate contact
Sophie (Eye Haidara) is a black woman who works closely with them,
sympathetically explaining the rules and attempting to help them through the
process to be freed from the institution as soon as possible where, with the
educational and manual skills such as soldering and woodcutting they learn,
they might find support by the state until they have full-paying jobs, be relocated to
their own apartment, and eventually reassimilated back into Belgian society.
Judges and other authorities speak regularly to the boys about their
aspirations and personal social difficulties, and evaluate each individual on
their emotional and mental well-being.
Even though they are locked up as in a prison each evening, the
juveniles are relatively free to move about the facility during the day, to
participate in group sports, and encouraged to discuss their problems in group
sessions that further encourage their linguistic and social creativity. On some
days they are taken on public exercise sessions and are allowed to visit local
museums and other institutions.
But in this seemingly best of all possible worlds their behavior is
closely watched as in the prison of Jean Genet’s prison in Un chant d’amour,
and for the slightest of infractions the judge may turn down their early
and even their regularly-scheduled releases for their not properly attending to
lessons or, in the case of figures such as Ilyas (Jonathan Couzinié), Tom
(Matéo Bastien), Desar (Samuel Di Napoli), Fahd (Amine Hamidou), and Yanis
(Nlandu Lubansu) for being more immature than others or simply not as
intelligent and likeable. Their reassimilation into society becomes a thing
postponed again and again until they so lose heart that they longer even care
about obeying the rules of the world which has seemingly permanently removed
them from the world at large.
Some boys are visited on weekends by their parents, but many, such as
Joe (Khalil Gharbia, having just performed one of the major roles in François
Ozon’s Peter van Kant), the central figure of this film, have been
banned from their own homes for their sexual behaviors or utterly ignored for
the very reasons why they have found themselves in such a situation. The
system, in fact, has punished them yet again for the failures of their parental
environment and their familial sense of unwantedness that encouraged them to
act out their hurt and anger.
Despite his terrible maternal upbringing, however, Joe is a near-model
student, intelligent, skilled, sociable, and good-looking. His only problem is
that, as he realizes all too clearly, what the years of hibernation in the
prison institution has already done to him. Moreover, although the movie
doesn’t explicitly say this, he is an outsider, an Arab in French society. As
critic Aurore Engelen points out in her review of the Berlinale 2023 Generation
feature of this film, “"If a fish gets trapped in ice, it doesn’t come
back to life. It dies." In The Catcher in the Rye, the young hero
wonders where the ducks in Central Park go when the water is frozen. The voice
we hear is that of Joe—a modern Holden Caulfield, of sorts, whose feelings have
caught up with him—at the beginning of The Lost Boy, as he wonders about
the fate of these fish who seemed to be a family, but whose hearts has stopped
beating.”
But Joe seems anything but dead or even hibernating. He is about to be
released, and assured by Sophie that if he doesn’t get into further trouble he
will be given his own apartment and the ability to begin his life all over
again.
Enter William (Julien De Saint Jean, fresh from Lie with Me of
2022). If Joe’s future finally suggests that his struggle to the top has ended
him in the slightly warmer melting waters of societal acceptance, now
everything—just as in other recent films such as Josza Anjembe’s 2019 short
film Baltringue (Freed) and as early as Rachel Ward’s The Big
House (2000)—puts his current situation into jeopardy as he falls almost
immediately in love with the newcomer. The dilemma becomes a kind of Marxian
(as in Groucho, not Karl) contradiction: how to stay when you must be going.
Critic Austin Estrada summarizes the plot rather succinctly:
“William is the new kid in juvenile hall.
Rumor has it that he murdered someone. William keeps to himself with no
interest in the other guys in the center. But when he meets Joe, the two lock
eyes and find a mutual attraction and empathy for each other. Their
relationship grows as the two become vulnerable with each other, physically
[involved] with each other, and learn to trust someone else again. Yet William
and Joe fear their time is short-lived, as Joe also tries to earn his freedom
from the juvenile hall and his mom. Joe is faced with the impossible task of
earning his freedom while leaving his love in the process.”
Suddenly the metaphor of Genet’s film takes on fuller meaning as, just
as in the 1950 film William and Joe learn how to knock on the pipes and listen
dutifully for the illegal radio with which they might share through their
imaginative experiences of a love they cannot openly express. Joe’s artistic
talent becomes an occasion for William to ask him to create a tattoo on his
body, an event which allows all the boys to share in the S&M-like suffering
of pain as William later imprints Joe’s body with the image created by his
would-be lover. Whereas before, every act was symbolic, now even the slightest
of touches, the sharing of looks, the reading of a rap-like poem by Joe becomes
a truly sensual/sexual experience for all the boys. The orderly system of the
educational
Joe’s first major violation of the rules occurs when the boys are
permitted out on one of their group health sessions, where both Joe and William
find a way to escape the others so that they might engage in love-making.
They are caught and reprimanded, rather sympathetically by Sophie, who
simply attempts to make Joe understand that such behavior will have to wait
until after he can free himself from the institution’s demands. But how do two
young boys, long panting with unspoken desire at the very prime of their
testosterone-controlled life live up to those impossible demands?
William, however, is soon caught, while Joe cleverly makes it to the
ocean, a symbolic journey to warmer waters which might thaw out his hibernation
as a fish trapped under the ice.
He too is caught, and, as Sophie has long warned them, three strikes and
the boys are passed on to the adult prison system from which there is no easy
escape and with no commitment at all to return them back into the Eden from
which they have been falsely banned.
Joe awakens from the effects of his capture, dizzied and terrified of
the truly serious world in which he is now meaningless entrapped. When he is
well enough to join the others in the exercise courtyard, he finally catches a
glimpse of William. We realize that these two boys have now fully become the
prisoners of Genet’s painfully poignant Song of Love, that they have
been imprisoned by a society that ultimately prefers hate to its “perversities”
of love. Perhaps, from Genet’s perspective, the lost boys have now, in fact,
found their way to his kind of paradise.
For me, The Lost Boys was one of the highlights of New York’s
Newfest 2023.
Los Angeles, November 8, 2023
Reprinted from World Cinema Review (November
2023).




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