Puberty is pimply and awkward and, fittingly enough, so is The French Kissers (Les Beaux Gosses), the debut film of French graphic artist Riad Sattouf. Squeamishly forthright and deliberately rough-around-the-edges, Sattouf’s film humorously captures the weird, wonderful and often humiliating stages of adolescence in a fashion similar to 2007’s Superbad and the British TV show Skins.

Living up to its English title, The French Kissers opens with a positively stomach-churning extreme close-up of two spotted teens snogging each other silly, his mouth juices dribbling down her cheek. Intensely watching this lip-locking session from across the schoolyard is bumbling dweeb Herve (Vincent Lacoste) and his glam-rocker pal Camel (Anthony Sonigo). The two do nothing but fantasise about girls – be it their classmates, their classmates mothers, lingerie models or their neighbours without the blinds drawn – but the only kisses they manage to get are from their mums. This unexpectedly changes when cute, popular girl Aurore (Alice Trémolière) takes a fancy to Herve, but is too ashamed to admit it to her “cool” friends, so the two start catching up in secret after school. At the prospect of finally having a girlfriend, Herve can barely contain his excitement (or his libido),and slowly overcomes the paralysis-inducing nerves that kick in when he is in the presence of girls. Meanwhile, Camel grows jealous of Herve’s new girlfriend, and worries that she will stand in the way of their own friendship.

The joint screenplay by Riad Sattouf and Marc Syrigas is vaguely plotted, emphasising awkward character interactions within a day-by-day school environment rather than providing a definitive beginning, middle and end. It feels more realistic as a result, a refreshing quality that is furthered by the casting of non-professional French teens to play the students.  This is not without some drawbacks; Vincent Lacoste is perhaps too monotone and inexpressive throughout, as he doesn’t humorously capitalise on the awkwardness of each situation as much as, say, Michael Cera would. As the film progresses, however, Lacoste builds up Herve’s confidence at a convincing rate. It’s not some overnight transformation like we see all too often in Hollywood films.

Alice Trémolière is standout as Aurore, both as mysterious and endearing to the audience as she is to Herve. A number of stereotyped characters in support are also enjoyable, such as Laura (Julie Scheibling), the popular girl who spitefully toys with the swooning boys, and Wulfran (Victorien Rolland), the enigmatic Emo who coolly sits at the back of the class with his sunglasses on. As for the adults, Noemie Lvovsky induces hearty laughs Hereve’s divorced mother, who can’t help but ask her son if he was masturbating whenever she enters the room. Usually, he is.

The French Kissers is only 87 minutes long, yet it feels right considering the slightness of the narrative.  It doesn’t quite leave a big enough impression to acquire a cult status, but for anyone who has survived puberty, it’s difficult not to enjoy Staffouf’s amusing, cleverly crafted retrospective on adolescence.

The French Kissers is in limited release across Australia, starting  December 26th.

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