Soon after the second cringeworthy sex scene, the film takes an interesting, suspenseful turn. When it's over, I'm thinking this might be one of the best portrayals of how sexual abuse of children happens, how naiively they can fall under an adult's spell, and how easily they can be manipulated and dismissed. It's an ironic switch from the beginning, where Anne is actually a lawyer defending female victims of abuse, so she knows how these situations play out in the system. Anne is as rude and bored as Theo, walking out on her guests and talking her way through sex with her adoring husband. Just as she has no problems with the sexualization of her little girls, who run around in lipstick and high heels, she seems to easily cross the boundaries of decency with Theo. Hopefully Samuel Kircher, who expertly plays the pouty but charming teen, won't regret these scenes when he's a reflective adult.

A slippery provocation that never feels easy, nor does it resort to cheap political messaging.

Last Summer is an alluring, seductive and provocative film. It's smart and thoughtful. Anne is a respected lawyer living in the French countryside. She has an idyllic life with her husband Pierre and their two young adoptive children. One summer Theo comes to stay. He is Pierre's son from a previous marriage. Theo is morose and quite obnoxious. He has been in trouble at high school and wants no part of Pierre and Anne's life. Anne especially finds him annoying, but slowly comes around to him. Soon enough they begin an illicit affair. Anne knows she is doing the wrong thing but her heart is ruling her head. She tries to break it off but the passion between the two is hard for her to resist. Eventually the affair will prove destructive to all involved. This is a mature and intelligent film, it's subtle and graceful. Even with dealing with a senstive subject. Acting is first class, especially Lea Drucker as Anne. A film for adults that treats the audience with respect.

“Last Summer” Anne (Lea Drucker) is a successful attorney, married to Pierre (Olivier Rabourdin) and raising their two adopted daughters. His son from another marriage, Theo (Samuel Kircher), is spending time with them. Then sparks start to fly between Anne and the teen in “Last Summer” 75-year old Catherine Breillat directs and co-writes (with Pascal Bonitzer) this adaptation of the 2019 Danish film, “Queen of Hearts.” The remake is pretty much a blow-by-blow of the original, but with a mostly Gallic flavor – until the end, when its Danish roots show through. Things start out pretty idyllic with Anne having a successful legal career and equally successful marriage, with children. Then, Theo moves in for a while. Anne puts up with his sullenness for only so long when she scolds him to show a little interest in his family and participate. Initially, the teen takes it to heart, spending time with Ann and the girls. The added time at closer quarters between Anne and Theo causes the ice to melt between them. Soon, they kiss…and more. Anne, shocked at her behavior with a mere lad, immediately tells him it was the first and last time. The lady doth protest too much, though, and things heat up between the two. Then, Pierre tells Anne that he and his son are going to their chalet for some father-son bonding time. This is where the Gallic sensibilities become more Danish and confrontations, denials and accusations take hold. The overall tone of the story changes and conflict becomes more important than family. I know why the story headed in this direction but it is not satisfying from my viewer standpoint. Acting, as expected, is first-rate with Drucker giving Anne a strong will and sense of independence – and control. Samuel Kircher is pretty enough as Anne’s objet d’affection but, truthfully, she’s a cradle robber. The kid does play a sometimes snotty teen well. B-

Good but not great. Although there were some great performances in it, the script could use some polishing.

An absorbing film about handling sexual complexities -- a professional defender of abused girls ends up with a complicated issue at home. Well made.

It was great until the shocking relationship arises. My mom was in town and we watched it together and it made us so uncomfortable!

"When I was 14 … ...I was secretly in love with a friend of my mother's. I thought he was so elegant. And at the same time I described in my diary ...relentlessly his wrinkles. His thin, parchment skin. As if he were already dead. As if he disintegrated. Unrelenting. Toward death. I was disgusted. And at the same time, I was fascinated." Both Léa Drucker (Anne) & Olivier Rabourdin (Pierre) find a rare shared tenderness in this tale of forbidden love. Breillat (Director/Co-Writer) does well to harness what could be easily mishandled given the controversial material. Both actors find effortless solace in the simplest of scenes showcasing a warm spiritual connection between one another to the point where the words they are speaking are almost irrelevant compared to the obvious human connection that can be seen, heard and felt. Last Summer's radiance exists between the shared state of mind of characters, Anne (Drucker) and Pierre (Rabourdin), which is insane, as he is only seventeen. Part of their relationship is the knowingness of what they are doing is, as an exterior; absurd. Tho aware of this, there is an underlying acceptance of contentless between them which cinches the viewer to write off the films legitimacy. This "common ground" in this captivating relationship creates another energy of humour of which plays nicely throughout the film. Admittedly at times, Pierre's (Rabourdin) maturity did show, and aspects of his light leering came off to me as slightly dishonouring, especially as it didn't seem to bother Anne's (Drucker) attraction to him. Perhaps this isn't as awkward to watch for French audiences tho. Never the less the overall atmosphere, and craft of the film beautifully cradles the exceptional central acting talent, which is so good that it almost feels "new". This films reminds its viewers that life isn't really something we live. It lives us.