Speaking from experience, it’s difficult to find a gay person who also happens to be nice, but Etienne (Alexis Manenti), the protagonist of Pierre le Gall’s Flesh and Fuel, is, arguably, lucky. Bartosz (Julian Świeżewski) is Etienne’s lucky charm, getting both of them out of trouble with cops because they were having sex in public. After getting out, Bartosz offers him food, different from his other hookups in truck stops. Etienne lives that life while occasionally seeing his wife and co-workers who know his sexual orientation and are, thankfully, treating him like one of the guys.

Etienne’s wife and coworkers are on the lookout for guys, but his mind is still on Bartosz. But the longer they spend time together, the more likely their differences show up as obstacles. Flesh and Fuel, then, asks whether these differences matter or is their love stronger than their differences? My synopsis of this film makes it seem cringe, which is not for every viewer, and a younger version of me would criticize Etienne for not playing it cool, which is hypocritical. Of course, this film still has 2020s nighttime photography.

Despite of my usual gripes about contemporary cinematography, Flesh and Fuel‘s frankness can win viewers over. Hands gripping normal bodies at night turns into morning as Etienne and Bartosz light each other’s cigarettes. Intimate camerawork captures Manetti’s performance of a presumably bisexual man unafraid to show yearning. This film also works outside of queer cinema tropes where characters deal with AIDS, coming out, and phobias. Maybe the closest vibe here is coming out because entering a relationship is a step that most queer people can’t do. Etienne and Bartosz don’t label their relationship but their is just as real.

The filmmakers gave Cannes permission to publish this photo.