The process of unpacking Les Amandiers (alternatively known as Forever Young, which doesn’t quite encapsulate the spirit of the film in the way whoever chose the English title may have thought) requires us to understand a few contextual elements, all of which ultimately play a part in laying the foundation for this charming and genuinely moving film. Directed by Valeria Bruni Tedeschi, who wrote the screenplay in collaboration with Noémie Lvovsky and Agnès De Sacy, the film is an exploration of the director’s experiences as a young actor growing up in the late 1980s, centred on a small group of young adults that successfully manage to enter Les Amandiers, the theatre troupe founded by esteemed director Patrice Chéreau, who looms large over their lives as they navigate the trials and tribulations of life in such an artistic space, guiding them along in collaboration with Pierre Romans, who acts as their educational facilitator, helping them in their journey to realizing the impossibly high standard set for them by generations of previous actors that passed through these hallowed halls. Bruni Tedeschi has established herself as a formidable presence on both sides of the camera, so it is barely a surprise that Les Amandiers is one of the year’s very best films, a thrilling and captivating blend of comedy and drama, carefully curated by someone who is genuinely speaking from experience, using her own journey during the period depicted here to craft a semi-autobiographical account of the lives of young actors, people who choose to pursue a career in the theatre, which is a risk that does not often yield positive results for the majority of those who have such ambitions – and for those that do succeed, the journey is far from simple or flawless, as it contains many challenges that are far from easy to navigate, all of which form the foundation for this endearing and insightful character study that is daring enough to explore different sides of the industry, as told by someone who has enough firsthand knowledge to be considered something of an authority, and the artistic integrity to filter these details into something meaningful and resonant.

The concept of the coming-of-age drama is so common, it often borders on being trite. Bruni Tedeschi has been at the heart of many very effective entries into the genre, whether being the focus in her younger years, or taking advantage of her reputation for being an almost chameleonic character actor and playing roles that help support these narratives. However, Les Amandiers places her in a position where she is one of the sole authorial voices, the person guiding the story and making many of the strongest narrative decisions, which are integral to the success of the film. As a result, this is a film clearly made by someone who not only implicitly understands the details of how to put together a well-constructed coming-of-age story, but also a director whose fondness for this material is directly related to her own relationship with these stories. It’s not autobiographical in the sense that it is an account of Bruni Tedeschi’s life as a whole, but rather one where the main character of Stella is loosely based on her, being the vessel through which much of the narrative moves, and the individual whose perspective is our guiding light through this dense but magnificent exploration of the world the director and her co-writers so meticulously put together. This isn’t the run-of-the-mill exploration of young people interacting and realizing the many challenging lessons that life will force them to endure (but it does feature these conversations, they’re just folded into the broader and more interesting themes), but rather a more bespoke depiction of identity, told through the perspective of a small group of characters, some of them young and ambitious actors who genuinely believe that they are on the precipice of global acclaim and just require some sharpening of their tools, which comes on behalf of the older characters, who represent the previous generation, the people who committed their life to not only honing their own approach to the craft, but opening its doors for their artistic descendants, both those that they train directly, as well as the later progenies spurred from these interactions, making for a very unique and compelling depiction of artistic identity alongside more traditional conversations around sexuality, gender and social status, all of which Bruni Tedeschi embeds deeply into the heart of the film.

Les Amandiers takes place in an artistic environment, and should be viewed primarily as a film about creativity and the development of new and radical ideas, with are interwoven with the theme of youth. One of the central conversation pieces that we find scattered throughout this film is the generational divide – while the age boundary between the new actors and their instructors is not awfully large, there is a clear sense of disunity in how they all approach art, where the students are trying to stake their claim as fully-formed artists with new visions, while their teachers ferociously hold onto their positions of power, knowing that they could easily be usurped should they give too much credence to those with whom they have elected to work and help develop their skills. However, while there is a great deal of tension found throughout the film, Les Amandiers doesn’t use discord as an excuse to unnecessarily complicate its central theme, which is that of the intersection between art and life. There have been few films more thoroughly dedicated to exploring the idea of life imitating art (and vice versa) than this one, with the depiction of these people who believe so strongly in their skills as artists that they were willing to sacrifice everything in order to pursue careers in the theatre, being truly extraordinary, and a wonderful ode to the power of art, as both a tool for self-expression and a method to unite a group of people under a common cause. There is nothing quite as impactful in art as collaboration, and Les Amandiers is a film borne from the art of working together in itself – it is a film composed of episodic moments in the lives of these characters as they collaborate on mounting a production of an obscure Chekhov play, showing their various challenges, and how even when confronted with some very intimidating challenges, their shared desire to see this production manifested in the form they envision only motivates them to overcome these obstacles, guided by the remarkable power of artistic passion, an elusive but valuable asset for any creative individual.

The film demonstrates so much compassion and nuance for its characters, especially those who appear on the periphery. Bruni Tedeschi is very sincere about how she constructs these characters, to the point where it becomes an ensemble effort, even if there are a few characters who serve as the focal point for the duration of the film. One can very easily tell that Les Amandiers was directed by an actor – not in the sense that it doesn’t have the directorial flair or a unique visual aesthetic (if anything, Bruni Tedeschi captures this era remarkably well, utilizing several techniques that hearken back to this period), but rather in how every one of these actors is given something valuable, whether they are central to the story, or simply exist to supplement the journey of the protagonist as she navigates this new and intimidating world. Nadia Tereszkiewicz is an absolute revelation, in the purest definition of the term – an actor whose immense skills made her a perfect surrogate for the director, who weaves together elements of her own experiences as a young working actor making her way through the Parisian theatre community in the 1980s, while blending them with Tereszkiewicz ‘s own remarkable traits, which make the character of Stella an immediately impressive role, one that depended on a strong sense of collaboration between the director and her performer, who implicitly trusted Bruni Tedeschi to ensure that everything she was asked to do came across with authenticity and commitment. The rest of the cast is populated by a range of actors that vary in popularity – Louis Garrel is woefully miscast as Patrice Chéreau, but makes up for the discrepancies in appearance and temperament by fully dedicating himself to playing this enigmatic icon of French theatre, while Clara Bretheau and Vassili Schneider are highlights as the young friends and colleagues of the main character (along with a wide cast of very gifted young actors), people who are undergoing the same scholarly journey into the world of acting, but come from radically different places in terms of social and cultural background – and they all contribute immensely to the very precise, character-based nature of the story and everything it represents.

Les Amandiers is best viewed as a mosaic of lives, a series of scattered fragments thrown together by appearing in the same space at the same time – but from this seemingly arbitrary series of encounters, incredible friendships are born, which is the foundation for this film and its incredible humanity. Bruni Tedeschi weaponizes her several decades of experience on both stage and screen in her efforts to direct one of the most poignant and meaningful deconstructions of the art of acting, which is something that we all tend to take for granted, normally viewing the lives of actors as being glamorous and exciting, and perhaps even slightly hedonistic – and while it isn’t the motivational rags-to-riches story we may expect from such a premise, Les Amandiers has a very precise sense of compassion that comes through quite unexpectedly, contrasting the very stark and direct method of direction that Bruni Tedeschi seems to be employing when constructing the film. It is an achingly beautiful love letter to the craft of acting, and to the art of creation as a whole, and between this broad commentary on the world of artistic expression is a gentle, poignant and very funny character-driven piece, a story of a group of young individuals navigating some very challenging territory as they come to realize that there is a lot more to their chosen vocation than they initially imagined. They experience triumph and failure, love and heartbreak, form new friendships and grow distant from old ones, and generally sample from the unexpected nature of life, which is anything but predictable. This a film with an immense compassion and an even more poignant sense of understanding the human condition, showing that the most lasting experiences come from moments of short but meaningful connection, and that none of us can fully comprehend the scope of what life has to offer – it’s a clear case of relishing in the journey rather than being focused on the destination, which fuels much of Les Amandiers, and which makes it such a well-crafted, meaningful drama with as much heart as it has intelligence, both of which occur in an abundance through this genuinely compelling film about the importance of surrendering to one’s artistic ambitions, since we never know when they may become useful, whether in our professional or personal lives.