FROM a graphic novel by Camille Jourdy, writer/director Julien Rappeneau has created a lovely film in which gentle humour combines with disquieting behaviours to form a gentle study of the human condition.

The structure is a trio of the story as seen from three main protagonists, terminated by a coda that answers a question that might have energised the curiosity of film-goers who insist on knowing its answer. I was quite comfortable about accepting the question as fait accompli. The film’s main body held me entranced and mildly apprehensive about how it would work out for those three characters. No surprises, instead, quiet satisfactions

Vincent (Kyan Khojandi) operates the hairdressing business he inherited from his father. Simone his mother (Anemone) is a demanding harpy who lives alone, considers herself much put upon and contrives daily contact by preparing his meals. 

Simone sends Vincent to buy the crab that she expected him to bring when he arrived for Sunday lunch. In a corner store, Vincent sees a woman who strikes a chord in his memory. He starts stalking her, intensely but not in a threatening way. Rosalie Blum has a history that she prefers not to reveal. Playing her, Noémie Lvovsky reinforces my thesis that handsome is more interesting to the eye than mere beauty. Her presence dominates her every appearance on the screen.

Rosalie asks her student niece Aude (Alice Isaaz) to shadow Vincent secretly and report what he’s about. It’s not a secret that can escape the eyes of a pair of fellow students insistent on accompanying Aude and there giving full rein to vivid imaginations.

Rappeneau records the same set of events from the points of view of Vincent, Rosalie and Aude. That’s imaginative filmmaking that allows the film’s main thrust to embrace sub-plots imbuing it with flavours that enchant, amuse, startle, combining to make “Rosalie Blum” the film as satisfying as you might hope for and perhaps more memorable than you might expect.

At Palace Electric from Boxing Day