Arnaud
Labrède would prefer to be a lover rather than a fighter. Madeleine Beaulieu
will opt for the fighting every day. That is the only way she believes she will
be prepared for the coming doomsday. Clearly, it will be an awkward courtship for
Labrède, but that is always the case when you are young and stupid. However, if
Armageddon holds off long enough, they might just mature a little (or perhaps
not) in Thomas Cailley’s Love at First
Fight (trailer
here),
which opens this Friday in New York.
Times
are tough in the wooded Landes region of France. The Army seems to be the only
employer recruiting in town. Labrède has gone to a few information sessions to
pick-up the free swag, somewhat befriending the recruiters in the process.
However, he assumes he will stay at home and help his older brother Manu
rebuild the family carpentry business. Like their recently deceased father,
both brothers are handy with tools. Yet, it is still hard for Labrède to get
Beaulieu to acknowledge him.
Granted,
their first meeting is hardly ideal. She will put the big hurt on him during an
Army-sponsored self-defense exhibition, until Labrède pulls a Tyson and bites
her. Labrède finds she is still rather sore over the whole thing when her
parent hire him and his brother to build a shed in their backyard. Little by
little, Beaulieu slowly thaws, until Labrède feels sufficiently encouraged to
sign up for her special summer training camp for prospective commando
enlistees.
To
his credit, it is hard to get a blanket sense of how Cailley views the
military, preppers, and End Times anticipators. It is safe to say Beaulieu is .
. . intense. Nevertheless, there is no denying the credible fashion in which
their relationship develops or the electric chemistry shared by co-leads Adèle
Haenel and Kévin Azaïs. At times, their verbal sparring is rather sly and quite
revealing. Unfortunately, the third act reversal, in which Labrède’s easy going
nature turns out to be better suited for team-building and unit cohesion,
becomes predictably formulaic. Even the mildly apocalyptic climax feels like a
pre-programmed inevitability (nonetheless, it is executed surprisingly
evocatively).
Haenel
(recently seen in In the Name of My Daughter) is convincingly surly, but it is hard to understand the initial
attraction. Maybe you just have to be French, since she seems to be the latest minor
“It” sensation. On the other hand, Azaïs pulls off something trickier and more
interesting, showing how his character quietly changes in response to the
people and environments he is exposed to. Antoine Laurent also has some nice
moments as the big brother out to prove his worth.
