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Early on, Yoni \u201caccidentally\u201d steals his boyfriend\u2019s severed head, and embarks together with Fabien on an anarchic road trip through France on their way to Paris. While this sounds fairly straightforward in theory, the truth is that\u00a0B\u00eates blondes\u00a0<\/i>actively resists labels of any kind and is therefore impossible to categorize as a love story, a road movie or anything in between. Attempts to deconstruct the narrative in a conventional sense are therefore frustrating for the most part and instead,\u00a0B\u00eates blondes\u00a0<\/i>is better enjoyed as a fragmented sensory experience akin to that of a dream.<\/p>\n
It\u2019s no wonder then that the film was awarded a prize for innovation by the Venice Critics\u2019 Week committee and a huge part of this is due to Fabien himself. Unreliable narrators are often par for the course in arthouse cinema, but the way that his short-term memory loss is explored here directly grounds the audience in his confusion, throwing bizarre situation after situation at both him and us alike. Nowhere is this more evident than in later scenes where Fabien\u2019s past life as a sitcom star interrupts the narrative, transporting us to an artificial and antiquated environment that will seem strangely familiar to anyone who enjoyed primetime TV in the \u201890s.<\/p>\n
Such a description might evoke the work of director David Lynch or the fractured narrative of indie hits like\u00a0Memento<\/i>, but Scimeca\u2019s performance in the lead imbues these surreal and often disjointed chapters with a warmth that\u2019s rarely found in these films. Although it\u2019s not always easy to identify with Fabien as a protagonist, it\u2019s far easier to like him as a character and the audience genuinely feels for him when memories of his former partner Corrine seep in and begin to take their toll.<\/p>\n
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These painful recollections slip in and out of the narrative like a dream, distorting the film\u2019s already slippery take on logic and plotting. At one moment, Fabien is eating ash because his taste buds don\u2019t work and in the next, he\u2019s chewing an earring off a decapitated head. Later on, he and Yoni enter a sex shop where the owner also happens to be the President of Fabien\u2019s fan club because why the hell not? It\u2019s impossible to predict what will happen next, and while there\u2019s something rather intoxicating about this, patience is required for some of the film\u2019s more absurd moments.<\/p>\n
Fortunately, Walther and Matray help unify these odd, disparate elements through a nostalgic lens, hearkening back to the Eurotica of old with beautiful, retro-styled shots. Even when the hallucinatory nature of\u00a0B\u00eates blondes\u00a0<\/i>becomes wearying around two thirds in, the film itself is still stunning to watch, defying expectation stylistically as well as narratively.<\/p>\n
Just like its protagonist,\u00a0B\u00eates blondes<\/i>\u00a0is confused, chaotic and often lacks taste, but the film as a whole remains charming nonetheless. It\u2019s safe to say that no other feature has explored the disintegration of identity with such charm and innovation in recent years and although it might not be for everyone, audiences who are willing to set aside the film\u2019s flaws will discover that\u00a0B\u00eates blondes\u00a0<\/i>is the strangest and perhaps most unique queer movie they\u2019ll see all year.<\/p>\n