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Cult Review
Senior Film Conservator
If you have a soft spot for 1930s French films that aren't afraid to be a little bit stubborn and small-scale, then yes, give Jeunesse d'abord a look. If you need pacing that moves like a modern thriller or high-gloss production values, you'll probably want to skip this one entirely.
It’s the kind of movie that feels like it’s being told in a cramped living room. There’s a lot of talking, a lot of sighing, and a whole lot of people staring down their parents.
The whole premise is classic stuff—kids wanting to be with who they want, parents wanting to control the checkbook. It’s not breaking new ground, but the way Prévert writes the dialogue makes it feel like these characters have been annoyed with each other for years.
I found myself watching the background extras more than I probably should have. There’s this one scene in a cafe where a guy in the back just... holds his drink for an eternity without taking a sip. It’s distracting in the best way possible. Did he forget he was on camera? I love that.
Max Révol and Pierre Brasseur have this great, frantic energy. It’s like they know they’re in over their heads but are too proud to admit it. There’s a moment where they’re pacing back and forth that feels so real it’s almost uncomfortable, like you’re watching a private argument you shouldn't be seeing.
It reminded me a bit of the quiet, dusty desperation you find in The Last Man, though obviously in a very different register. Both films deal with the weight of expectations, just one is much grimmer about it.
The pacing is… well, it’s not for everyone. Some scenes linger long after the point has been made. It’s almost like the director was afraid to cut away, just to see what the actors would do next. Sometimes it works! Sometimes you just want them to get on with it.
It’s not a masterpiece, but it’s honest. Sometimes that’s enough. 🎞️
Year
1935
IMDb Rating
—
Editorial
Deciphering the legacy of transgressive cult cinema.
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