on the town
by Douglas Messerli
Olivier Ducastel and Jacques Martineau (screenwriters and directors) Théo et Hugo dans le même bateau (Paris 05.59: Théo & Hugo) / 2016
Olivier Duscastel and Jacques Martineau’s truly exhilarating gay romance, known throughout the world as Théo & Hugo plunges its viewers immediately a world probably unknown to most of them, a Paris gay sex club named L’Impact where customers check in their clothes at the door and wander from the bar on the first floor downstairs to a warren of rooms where men engage in a kind of enthralling orgy, with some pairs engaging in sex, some men with threesomes, and other men at the edges looking on in masturbatory wonder; men change partners, ignore the attentions of others, engage and basically settle down to the best sexual ecstasy they can find for the night.
The camera at first follows a hirsute and handsome middle aged man down as he watches and briefly attempts to engage with a beautiful young man with short, curly hair who we later discover is one of our two central characters, Théo (Geoffrey Couët). Another bearded man also kisses and attempts to engage with Théo. But the boy himself moves slowly closer to a fucking couple in the midst of others, attracted to another lean. black-haired youth, Hugo (François Nambot). Although Hugo is already involved in sex, Théo, now on floor level, moves closer and closer until the two lock eyes and suddenly feel a true mutual attraction. Just previously we have seen Théo put on a condom.
Almost as in the dance at the gym in West Side Story, the ruddy others (the earlier scenes are filmed in mostly garish reds and blues) gradually fade away as the two young men, now bathed in white light, come together, at 4:30 in the morning, at first Hugo topping Théo and then sucking him before the flip, Théo finally fucking Hugo as the latter shouts out “harder, harder.
I mention this with specificity since it does later matter, and commentators are generally vague or in some cases simply have reported the sex mistakenly (Godfrey Cheshire’s essay on the Roger Ebert site, for example, gets it backwards—excuse the unintentional pun).
And yes, as Godfrey correctly reports: “It should be noted that this scene is hardcore, meaning it contains erect penises and sex acts that are shown explicitly. There are two things, though, that set it apart from most pornography. One is that it is very artfully filmed and doesn’t include close-ups of genitals. The other is that it’s not an end unto itself but a set-up for the story that follows.”
This is the adult gay film we have all been waiting for, that doesn’t sever sex from the gay story. Unlike most US LGBTQ films today, this has nothing at all to with coming out or suffering over a boyfriend or girlfriend breakup. As filmmaker Jerry Tartaglia warned us as early as 1988, “gay men and the LGBTQ community have allowed AIDS to desexualize the gay experience.” And as Vito Russo argued, quite emphatically, “We do not have the responsibility of making gay life look good to straights so they will accept us.”
Théo & Hugo unapologetically begins in a place where most straights, and even most gay men, have never before trod (I have been there when I was young), and which is perhaps shocking to many; but it takes us to a romantic world that we know, accordingly, to be quite real.
In those few moments of intense sex, these two men have fallen desperately in love with one another, and, even if the voyage they take in the hour is filled with fear and worry—calling up through both its English and French titles Agnès Varda’s classic Cléo from 5 to 7 and the work of Jacques Rivette—they also commit themselves to one another in a manner that is totally believable.
Once they finish sex and reclaim their clothes, they leap, now fully dressed, into the Paris night, literally running with joy as they begin a bicycle trip through the always glittering city.
The two share their joy in each other's bodies. Hugo admits to having almost fallen in love with Théo’s cock, again quite daring subject matter for a film that lies basically outside the realm of pornography.
Along the way, Hugo shares the information that sex with Théo was unusual, exceptional in that he felt they were producing love: “I think we made a big contribution to world peace.” They both agree that they need to “start over.” And again, they stop to kiss.
As they head off to Hugo’s place, Théo admits that it was also a strange experience for him. He admits it was his first time at L’Impact, having previously had a boyfriend. He agrees also that it was unusual, special. When Hugo queries him on what he means, he suddenly realizes that what Théo is telling him was that he fucked him without a rubber.
Suddenly their joyous, glittering night world comes crashing down as Hugo ditches his bicycle, shouting at his new friend, “What were you thinking? Fuck! You’re insane!” It turns out that Hugo is HIV positive, although with pills has most kept his condition safe, the virus almost undetectable. But now he demands they call the gay hotline who tells them both to check in at a nearby hospital immediately.
Again, unlike the US medical establishment, who through political enforcement has basically ignored what remains of the AIDS crisis, France has smartly made it a primary concern, allowing someone who has just possibly been infected to get immediate care, pills for 28 days and a checkup, helping to stop the infection before it can even further develop.
An immediate appointment is made. But the now startled Théo determines to visit the clinic alone, making it appear that the potential relationship between the two has suddenly come to an end.
The worried Théo does not even bother to take the anxious Hugo’s phone calls as the former checks into the hospital, where, in fact, as a fussy older man reminds him, no phone use is allowed.
But almost as suddenly Hugo does appear, ready to help his new friend through the process. The couple meet together with the intelligent and informative female doctor who explains the regimen, noting that there may be side effects, at least a first, but there all other alternatives. An appointment for a blood test is made for Monday. To the doctor, Théo more openly describes what happened, that he was wearing a condom, but in the act, it broke.
Their relationship, accordingly, is reestablished, despite the possible catastrophe. Love finds a way even through the immediate fears. They run forward through the city again, realizing that nearly all the hospital staff and cleaning people were women, Hugo arguing the Paris nights belong to women and fags! And a black night watchman. All people without real power.
Hugo explains that he has come from the provinces where the only gay spaces were large highway gas station bathrooms, where the straight men who also haunted these places for sex didn’t even imagine that condoms were meant for them. He was infected on his very first outing. He also reveals that he is a notary’s clerk working to obtain his notary license, explaining in a manner that one might find only in French movies, that his influences were Balzac and Mauriac, explaining that as they wrote of notaries, they encounter all types of people, helping the poorest to the wealthiest obtain what they need to survive.
Suddenly both hungry, they again go on the run, this time near the canal, slowing down finally, when Théo asks about the side effects of the drugs.
Hugo argues that the drugs are the not the problem; you can even live a relatively “normal” life. You even get over the “side effects.” The problem is the virus. “I mean even if it’s undetectable. Even if I’m not scared anymore that it will kill me. It’s there. I think about it. Often. They say ‘live with it,’ but I can’t. I live against it.” In short, even for those who might survive being HIV positive, the disease that killed so many gay people, has not come to an end. It haunts their lives every day they continue living.
Almost out of the blue, but clearly in reaction to everything that has happened in this eventful night so far, Théo admits to having a sudden urge to both kiss and punch out Hugo. And just as suddenly he grabs him, putting him up against a light post before finally laying his head upon his shoulder. The two cannot resist one another.
Théo finally leads him to a Kebob shop where a Syrian immigrant, as he prepares their chicken kebobs, explains that he was an architecture student in Damascus, having survived 45 years of injustice. “I didn’t live there. I survived. …We couldn’t talk. Not to anybody. Not even my university buddies. A life without talking is unbearable. About politics, or even just what we feel. Out desires….”
As our duo moves over to the canal to eat their early breakfast, we finally learn that Théo has a Masters in Industrial Design and interns for a large company. Both men, in short have roles far inferior to their capabilities, attempting still to prove their worth to the establishment.
What Théo really wants to do, at least for a while, is to become an aid worker, but he without any cause or even country in mind in which he might wish to do such humanitarian work. But now his self-avowed sentimentality has no meaning. If he is HIV positive, he himself needs emergency care, unable to travel anywhere without “aspirin.” There is a bit of bitterness in the air.
They walk to a lovely place near the canal to eat their kebobs, but even odder questions arise. Why does Théo have a 70 phone connection, an older, unusual one in Paris? No answer is provided.
They begin to kiss, but Théo now wants to know, since Hugo is a regular at L’Impact, whether anything like this morning has happened to Hugo before, have there been others infected in the past? Despite the fact that he carries condoms with him at all times, something happened between them that was bigger, exceptional that made him lower his guard, as he attempts to explain. Théo now believes that they may have been others. “What do you usually tell them? How does it go?”
But now Hugo is very much on guard, and can’t comprehend what Théo is asking him, to where are his questions leading?
And he suddenly grows somewhat angry: “What do you want?. For me to tattoo HIV+ on my ass? Because idiots like you don’t take precautions?”
Théo reminds him of his sexual delirium, when he demanded, “Harder, harder.”
Hugo shrugs with the weight of the world on his shoulders. “It’s always our fault.”
And once more the two are at a standstill. Hugo reiterates that he promised to be at his appointment on Monday with his results, and walks off, reminding that he has his number.
Yet, almost immediately they make-up, Théo admitting that he immediately felt safe with Hugo, that everything made sense at the time. Hugo agrees, everything made sense, “we got careless.”
In their newfound love, they once again now rush off to catch the first metro of the morning, entering a car at the last second and asking an older woman if this is the first metro. A cleaning woman working at a fancy hotel reassuring them that it is the first, the one she takes every morning, and sharing that she knows everyone aboard, that it must be their first time. She also has stories to tell, how too many loves in her life did not permit her to keep a first rate job, and now without a substantial pension, she must work as a cleaning woman. But she too is not bitter, but recalls with perfect memory a few of her experiences, joyfully sharing a conversation with our two young lovers.
The couple finally end up in Théo’s very tiny flat, a maid’s room, where once again Hugo undresses his friend. As Hugo proceeds to disrobe him, Théo finally explains the “707” connection. “My parents separated when I was a kid. My father’s psychologically unstable. When I did my coming out, he freaked. He’d call me all the time.” The calls were evidently not homophobic, just raves (“fags, the end of the world, martians…") that lasted a long time. To cease the calls both he and his mother changed their codes.
By the time he finishes his own story of the hurt and pain that he, like Hugo and most other gay men have suffered, he stands entirely naked, almost returning us to a very intimate and private version of what we encountered in the first 20 minutes of this film. Here is love at the opposite but not so very different end of the impetuous desire of the first scenes.
Hugo explains just how much he loves Théo’s body, part by part going down from head to cock expressing his appreciation of the other. No one could ask more of a lover, and the camera takes us through that delicious delectation without a blink. Théo asks him if they should make love all over again, but Hugo suggests they wait. They ready, finally, to depart for the night, Hugo promising to join him at his next-day doctor’s appointment.
It’s now 5.56. And in the last three minutes of this remarkable film something almost miraculous happens. Hugo returns, insisting that Théo come with him to his slightly larger apartment. Théo dresses, asking as he does so, “Then what?”
“You’ll take your treatment, and I’ll be there.”
“For 28 days.”
“It’s not long.”
“Then what?”
“You’ll do the test…and we’ll wait for the result. And after 3 months and 28 days together, we’ll be strong enough. Even if I’m sure you’ll be negative. After that, if you still want to have sex, if you’re not scared, we can keep going.”
“Then what?”
“We’ll keep going. There’ll be no reason to stop. We’ll stay together. For a long time.”
“How long?”
“A long time. I don’t know. Let’s say…20 years. In twenty years, we’ll do so much. We’ll go to the supermarket. Or maybe something huge. We’ll save whales, or just a kitten. A cause, or a world-changing invention. I don’t know…something.”
“And then?”
“After that, we’ll break up I guess. Like everyone else. And we’ll be sad, but that’s life.”
Like all young men and women, these two cannot even imagine a longer future, but it doesn’t matter; Hugo has proposed a life together.
Théo follows his love out of his little hell-hole, but threatens to turn back since he has forgotten his cellphone. But like Orpheus insisting that his Eurydice not turn back, Hugo urgently demands that Théo simply follow him without returning for his phone:
“If you go back, I’ll leave. I mean it. If you turn back, if you look behind you, you lose it all. Everything I promised.” He kisses him again. “Let’s go forward. We’re not afraid.”
Banality returns, almost as a joke: “Can I use your phone to call my mom? I call every Sunday.”
This Eurydice presumably survives his voyage out of Hades, both the small maid’s room and the life of L’Impact, and faces a lovely future even if the two young men don’t quite know what that future might mean. Howard and I did same without any expectations and discovered one day that we woke up still here after 56 years together.
The film won the Audience Award at the Berlin Festival's 2016 Teddy Awards. And it is one of my very favorite gay films, not because of any epic statement or even an incredibly innovative or experimental presentation of LGBTQ+ life, but because of its total embracement of humanity and its declaration of love and hope.
Los Angeles, June 26, 2026
Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog (June 2026).
