A dreamlike portrait of grief and love, Through The Forest’s 10 long, intimate takes chart a young woman’s struggle to deal with the death of her lover. Convinced that he returns to her each night only to disappear in an instant, Armelle’s world is washed in tears to the point where neither she, nor we, can discern the line between fantasy and reality.

Through The Forest is very French, and its soft lighting, pretty girls with nice hair and 35 day lovemaking sessions certainly caused a few pangs in this lonely young writer. But it was worth it. I really loved this film, its naturalism and sense of floating through emotional density strikes me as the kind of thing many Australian films try at and fail, but for the French it seems effortless.

There is really little to be commented upon in Through The Forest, as the overall dreamy effect outweighs any detail. The acting is barely noticeable for its naturalism, the music is subtle but very effective in heightening the sense of tension and grief as Armelle sinks deeper into the hole, and the camera work is simple and elegant. In fact, a sense of elegance is the common factor throughout.

The film opened with a short by Francois Ozon, A Curtain Raiser, a wonderful meditation on principles and compromise in a relationship. As uptight young Bruno and his older, looser friend Pierre stand by the window of Bruno’s bachelor pad, awaiting his lover Rosette, Bruno decries her continual lateness. But this time he has given her an ultimatum: if she is more than 45-minutes late, it’s over. Pierre’s stance is, of course, ‘ƒ∂how unFrench, to complain about a woman’s lateness. What sort of woman is not late, some kind of sexless monsterÔøΩƒ∂’