Finding love can be difficult at the best of times but even more so when you are institutionalised. Zeno Graton’s powerful debut feature shows how even in the most hopeless and sterile of places you can find love and compassion. The Lost Boys (Le Paradis) is ultimately a film about hope and freedom at the individual level. Joe (Khalil Ben Gharbia) is preparing for release from a detention centre when the arrival of a new resident William (Julien De Saint Jean) completely refocuses his attention. Until this point Joe has been withdrawn in the centre, not engaging fully in the tasks set to him and he is hell bent on escaping. When he escapes at the start of the film, he simply goes to the seaside to play in an arcade and have a cigarette while walking along the seafront. This is such a simple and unassuming experience, it shows Joe isn’t dreaming of much, just the ability to do something of his own accord and be outside in a place without barriers.

Graton’s commitment to authenticity is evident through the care in the film’s dialogue and camerawork. Graton spent weeks living next to and being engaged with a working detention centre, whose residents were involved in the evolution of not just the script but also the filming itself. The film was shot at a working facility alongside the real residents who were invited onto set in small groups to experience the production as well as acting as a reminder to tell their story and their reality with the utmost care and respect. Graton’s tenderness to the subject is woven in intimate scenes between Joe and William. We see them attempting to experience closeness whilst sleeping in their separate rooms with locked doors and walls between them. These scenes are particularly moving because of the stillness in them. It’s as if all the noise and the restlessness from being in an institution is on pause during those fleeting moments.

The influence of the poet Rumi is woven across the film, with a poem being used in the final moments and is a source of influence for the score of the film for the boys to set their love to. Music means freedom. Freedom to dance, to create, to sing, to love. However, it is also a privilege and as William is returned his radio (after Joe steals it because his own has been confiscated due to his escape attempt), educator Sophie (Eye Haidara) warns him he can have it until she takes it away. This is a bold statement by Sophie, reinforcing that freedom is something that has to be earned by obeying the rules set in place in what is portrayed as a utilitarian environment. As the film progresses, it becomes clear that even if the boys manage to leave the facility, they will never truly be free. Stereotypes and opinions of young offenders will plague them as they try and move through the world long after they have left and new residents have replaced them.

The Lost Boys is not simply a tragedy, it shows that hope and love are important and possible even in the most oppressive of situations. If this is how powerful Graton’s first feature is, I am excited to see his progression as a filmmaker.