I think Paul Kircher really captures the vulnerability of his "Lucas" character well here. He lives with his parents - Juliet Binoche and Christophe Honoré until an accident robs them of his father. His brother "Quentin" (Vincent Lacoste) returns from his home in Paris and the family start to come to terms with their grief. That manifests itself in many ways amongst the threesome, and causes friction between them too. It's his brother who comes up with the idea of taking the seventeen year old "Lucas" for some time in the big city, and so off they go. He shares his small apartment with "Lilio" (Erwan Kepoa Falé) to whom the young man immediately takes a shine. We already know that he is gay, and his time in the city gives him chance to explore the cultural sites of the city, and to give his Grindr a bit of exercise too. The narrative is peppered with occasional flashbacks as the young man continues to struggle to come to terms with his loss, becomes increasingly more selfish and introspective; reckless and thoughtless and also a little unforgiving of the stress on his family too. A bit of a misdemeanour (for a measly 150 Euros) sees his brother send him back home and that's where things step up a gear and everyone gets a fright. Reality takes the family by the scruff of the neck - but hopefully it will start the young "Lucas" on some sort of path to continue his life more positively. Binoche features sparingly, but her every expression conveys emotion - whether that be sadness, grief, exasperation or love; and there is plenty of love amongst this family. Lacoste also fares well as "Quentin" must reconcile the needs of his own life with those of his family - not an easy task when your teenage brother has the hots for a flatmate ten years older. It's Kircher who steals this, though. There is a confidence about his performance that is engaging to watch. He does elicit sympathy but you do want to just give him a slap at times, too. His behaviour isn't malevolent, but it's not so much of a melodramatic "cry for help", either. It's about his sorrow, his sadness and all of their emptiness, and the bitterness of those feelings. Who knew people still wore turquoise underpants, either! Maybe a little on the long side, but I reckon this actor might be around for a while to come.

Christophe Honore captures inevitable journey of self-discovery that Lucas (Paul Kircher) begins after the sudden death of his father. The emotional vacuum right after the accident is quickly substituted with the chaos of emotions - grief, guilt, solitude, desire, hatred.

To deal with the chaos, especially if you are only as young as the main protagonist, is doomed to be chaotic and unorganised too. The chaotic and contrasting nature of Lucas' actions is most apparent in his first days in Paris, where he experiences both profound religious experience and first making love with an anonymous, insignificant person.

Cheerfulness and joy burdened with sadness is an unimaginably difficult role to play but Paul Kircher does a wonderful job in conveying the emotional rawness and ambiguity. And so does Juliette Binoche, playing his mother. But it's perhaps this ambiguity that is so confusing for the young heart. What to believe in the world where sorrow is veiled under the scarf of joy?

Rarely do I come across a film that is so emotionally visceral that I genuinely feel the grief and joy, the chaos and peace, and every moment in between. Le Lycéen is one.

Paul Kircher is truly phenomenal as Lucas, a character with whom you feel grateful to have experienced each moment. His performance is award-worthy, and I look forward to what he'll do next, because I know it will be wonderful. Juliette Binoche plays her role of Lucas' mother with excellence and poise and her performance must be seen to be fully appreciated.

The story is beautiful in its simplicity. It touches deeply, and though I haven't shared Lucas' experience, the film made me almost believe I had.

It's been a long time since I've sat through the credits of a movie in thought, just for the simple purpose of continuing to feel what the film made me feel. I was saddened as the screen finally faded to black, because somehow I had found the hope that it wouldn't end and that we'd continue for just a few moments longer.