This beautiful, melancholy, semi-autobiographical coming-of-age story from Olivier Assayas (Cold Water, Irma Vep, Summer Hours) perfectly captures the convictions, insecurities and naiveté of youth and the futility of revolutionary conviction in the face of personal desires. The main characters in Assayas’ story are all just a little too young to have taken part in the volatile height of civil unrest that overtook France in late 1968. They are left trying to define themselves in the wake of a revolution rather than as part of the revolution itself. The specificity of the time and place, with its dozens of extreme leftist movements and open-ended options, is precisely what enables the film to tap into the universal search for self-definition that all generations experience.
By focusing on the rudderless ambiguity of his own coming of age, Assayas has made a rare political film that is totally free of both the rose-colored fantasy of nostalgia and the critical condemnation of hindsight. But, unlike the director's excelent Carlos, this is not really a political or historical picture-- it’s a personal one. Still, the film gives insight into leftist politics and the ineffectiveness of adhering to strict, radical dogma. It also has a lot to say about art, love, conformity, and radicalization, but the movie is gentle and subtle with its observations.
As Assayas’ stand-in, Gilies (newcomer Clement Metayer) has a quiet intensity that is almost the opposite of what we expect in a young actor in a role of this type; rather than projecting a smoldering intensity behind a quiet facade, Metayer radiates uncertainty from every part of his face and body. It would be hard not to identify with him since we have all been this kid at some point in our lives. Even more perfectly cast as Gilies’ more politically self-assured girlfriend Christine, is Lola Creton, the luminous young star of last year’s Goodbye First Love (the semi-autobiographical film by Assayas’ wife Mia Hansen-Løve). Creton is so striking and carries her young character’s half-formed identity so perfectly that she will strike a wistful chord of remembrance in at least half of any audience.
Something in the Air does not take us by the hand and guide us through the story; instead, it engages us from a distance and slowly reels us to a point where we can almost read the thoughts of the characters. The last time we see each of them, it is unmistakably clear what they have learned, who they have become, and where they are going.