Close (2022 | Belgium | 105 minutes | Lukas Dhont)

In his follow-up to Girl, Lukas Dhont presents a tragedy of toxic masculinity and its insidious effects on a teenage friendship in rural Belgium. The Cannes Grand Prix winner Close considers losses of innocence among teen boys, their inciting causes, and their lingering painful aftermath. Now among the nominees for the Best International Film at the Academy Awards, it’s finally getting a theatrical release.

Opening in the waning days of golden-hued summer in the weeks preceding the beginning of sixth grade, Leo and Remi are inseparable buddies. Spindly framed and bursting with youthful energy, they spend their afternoons playing pretend war games in the woods outside Leo’s family farm, sprinting home through vibrant flower fields, all laughter and gawky limbs. Perpetual sleepovers find them platonically sharing a bed, the unabashed proximity all the better to sweetly whisper awkward stories to stop each other’s racing minds and allow a little sleep before doing it all over again the next day.

Theirs a chaste yet idyllic pairing of fraternal closeness and the big dreams of little kids. Remi’s an oboe player and Leo fancifully imagines the two of them going on a world tour in support of his outstanding musicianship. Each are integrated into the other’s family and they think of themselves as brotherly best friends. Yet once the school year starts, Leo is more keenly attuned to the ways that their closeness draws attention and stokes assumptions. Soon Leo begins to craft an independent identity for himself through other classmates, throwing himself into the unlikeliest task of becoming a hockey player, and dedicating himself to the work of his family’s farm. The unexpected pain of his increasing distance takes its toll on Remi’s psyche and their friendship.

As the gulf between them yawns tragically wider, the success of the film hangs almost entirely on the delicate and expressive features of its breakout star Eden Dambrine as Leo. A trained dancer before being cast for his first time acting role by Dhont, he brings a precision to a character that reflects the reticence of boys to talk about their feelings. Instead of words, the work of his performance is in his expressive eyes and the monotonous physicality that he brings to depicting a kids who’s forcing himself forward by sheer virtue of being subsumed by the tasks of daily life. Much of this grind of dodged emotions plays like a choreographed dance that’s nevertheless both lyrical and heartbreaking.