There’s something inherently fascinating about filmmakers from a very distinct period of time continuing to work into the contemporary era, since it creates a duality – the remnants of that period are still very much present in their distinct style, but the evolution of the art form has meant that they have very little choice but to adapt to the constraints of modern storytelling. The French New Wave doesn’t have many significant figures left (and of those that are remaining, there is a sense that they may have almost entirely abandoned logic in their recent films, one in particular), so it stands to reason that we’re always going to be fascinated by someone from this very distinct era working in the modern sphere. Philippe Garrel may have been a late-entry into the original movement, with his films occurring towards the end (opening up a discussion as to whether he can be considered part of the French New Wave, or instead someone who was heavily inspired by it), but Jean-Claude Carrière is most certainly a vital figure. The two have recently collaborated for the third time on The Salt of Tears (French: Le sel des larmes), a fascinating human drama about a young cabinetmaker from a small working-class village venturing into the unchartered waters of Paris to sit for an exam to become a professional carpenter. Along the way, his coming-of-age story is told through the lens of his relationship with three different women over time, each one bringing something new to his experience, for better or worse.

Garrel and Carrière are two notable figures in terms of French cinema, particularly considering how far back their work stretches (surprisingly, this is only their third time working together, with their first being in 2015, where Garrel directed Carrière’s screenplay to In the Shadow of Women). Yet, watching The Salt of Tears, it’s almost impossible to pick up any sense of inconsistency in their style, with the vision being remarkably fresh and up-to-date, not an iota of outdated musings to be found anywhere. This isn’t often the case for older filmmakers trying to stake a claim in the modern cinematic landscape by proving that they are still visionary – irrelevance is a problem in this case, but it can’t be applied to what Garrel was doing here, and being helped along by a terrific script by Carrière and Arlette Langmann (herself a veteran of the industry), with the product being a truly exceptional social drama that is bursting with a peculiar energy that hearkens back to the mysterious, character-driven stories present during the French New Wave, but filtered through the lens of contemporary drama. It’s a refreshing and poignant approach that works wonders, and makes The Salt of Tears a wonderfully unique story of modern romance, and the various pratfalls that tend to accompany it. There isn’t much to be discussed about the particular form the film takes – it is never entirely sure of a clear direction, which isn’t a criticism more than it is an observation of the general standard of storytelling that Garrel and Carrière were working from when constructing this piece, which provides an earnest glimpse into the trials and tribulations of a young man who realizes that falling in love is a lot easier than maintaining it, and that the break-neck speed at which the world operates isn’t always the easiest to navigate when it comes to exploring one’s identity.

The presence of the director and screenwriter on this project implies a multimodal approach was taken to the story, making The Salt of Tears a quintessentially classical take on modern romance, which is fascinating coming from those involved in its creation. Like the work they did earlier in their career, this film focuses on a very simple story, but with some truly potent themes lurking just below the surface. The film may seem to be about a young man and his romances with three incredibly different women – and if the film had been solely restricted to this side of the story, it would’ve been just as fascinating, as it is effectively nothing more than a character-study that places a quartet of very interesting modern individuals in specific situations and watches them work their way out of it. However, there’s something much deeper here, and part of the pleasure of this film comes in how we’re invited to unpack the mysteries and come to understand the various motivations that underpin the actions of characters that are created as being complex rather than likeable. The film isn’t afraid to make any of its protagonists hedonistic or arrogant at certain moments, since they’re composed as authentic representations of real human behaviour, rather than adhering to strict criteria of character creation. It may cause the viewer to feel some sense of alienation, but it all goes towards the frank and unforgiving honesty that the film seems to be entirely intent on proving, more than anything else. It eventually becomes a hauntingly beautiful work of pure romanticism, even when it is at its most harrowing, since the aim of such stories isn’t to be discursive, but rather to be descriptive of a particular time and place, and The Salt of Tears succeeds almost unilaterally, never missing a beat in its pursuit of some deeper truths.

Time is a fascinating concept in this film, and it is perhaps the aspect that is most striking and important to remark on, since there is always something brimming beneath the surface relating to how these characters view the march of time. Nothing is permanent in this film, with nearly everything in the film carrying a sensation of being temporary. Whether it be the first relationship we see Luc go through, which is supposed to be a brief romance by design (since he is only in Paris for a short time, and will likely only be returning many months later), or in the short bursts of unrestrained joy that are experienced by the characters in the moments leading up to some challenges, The Salt of Tears is composed of fleeting moments, none of them meant to last long. It gives the film its distinctly fragmented appearance, since it never dares to linger on any one moment too long – while there are some beautiful sequences of romance, they’re intentionally brief, to give off the sensation of the fragility to happiness. It wouldn’t be right to call The Salt of Tears a miserable film, but it’s certainly not one that tends to put too much emphasis on blind optimism. Instead, the idea here is simply to provide a moving tale of impermanence, and how everything about our lives – whether it be something physical, or just a manifestation of our internal states – cannot last forever, and it’s in the brief moments where we tend to find the most meaning, especially those that we know we may never experience quite as strongly ever again.

The Salt of Tears is a fascinating film, but it’s one that is undeniably going to be somewhat alienating to viewers who aren’t prepared for its very peculiar manner of exploring some complex themes. Garrel and Carrière (who I have made a point to refer to in tandem throughout, since they are equally as complicit in the creation of this film and the evolution of its ideas as if they were a duo) work laboriously to bring this bewildering story to the screen, showing enough restraint to prevent it from being entirely derailed, but still ensuring that every moment is filled with a melancholy sincerity that makes up for the occasional cold subject matter. This is a truly tender film, one that doesn’t avoid some challenging subject matter, but filters it through a very touching story of individuality – and by way of a quartet of exceptional performances (particularly those given by Logann Antuofermo and Souheila Yacoub, both of whom surrender entirely to the challenges of the film), the film makes itself known as a slow-burning, complex drama that doesn’t lay itself bare from the outset, but rather challenges the viewer to find some meaning in the various narrative crevices that we encounter. The combination of a very simple story with some striking creative elements, and some wonderfully deep themes that touch on a number of poignant matters, makes The Salt of Tears an absolutely essential film, one that may not be appreciated at first, but rather tends to linger on in the mind of the viewer, who has found themselves provoked by an effortlessly powerful exploration of the human condition, by way of a vivid, electrifying and melancholy look into the experience of falling in love, and the challenges of maintaining it, especially when we’re struggling with finding our own place in the world.