Zeno Graton’s debut feature, The Lost Boys, beautifully explores the revolving doors of failed state rehabilitation and care.
The Lost Boys (Le Paradis) (Review)
I opened my recent review of Zeno Graton’s The Lost Boys (Le Paradis) by stating that while many would like us to believe that locking young people up works by acting as a deterrent, ensuring public safety, in reality, when we lock young people away, we institutionalise them and strip them of the ability to grow into young adults. We create a revolving door of custodial care where the outside steadily becomes more challenging to navigate than the inside. Graton’s debut feature beautifully explores these revolving doors while focusing on an emerging and powerful love between two young men — a love born of art, a need for escape, and a search for light in a dark tunnel of failed state rehabilitation and care.
I recently caught up with writer and director Zeno Graton to discuss the influences behind his bold and beautiful debut, its exploration of intersectionality, and his affection for Jean Genet and François Truffaut.
The Lost Boys (Le Paradis) is a bold and beautiful film that explores multiple themes of masculinity, love, and the revolving doors of state incarceration. Can you tell me about the inspiration behind the movie?
I really wanted to make a love story. During my twenties, I read many of Jean Genet’s novels, which helped shape my feelings about queer love and self-love. I wanted to create a love story linked to the feelings that Genet’s work evoked in me, something beyond overcoming the shameful feelings we accumulate in our youth. We often see these themes reflected in queer cinema, but for me, I wanted to create a Jean Genet-themed love story featuring teenagers that explored the experiences of a new generation. The reality for young queer people now is different to mine growing up; they understand that they don’t have to take the homophobia and bullshit society throws at them. Yet, at the same time, they still live in a very homophobic society, and this creates a form of prison that isn’t easy to escape.
In Le Paradis, homophobia is an external obstacle surrounding two characters who dare to be who they are. I really wanted to have a queer leading character who was Arab. I’m half-Tunisian, and I wanted to portray Joe’s heritage as part of his story, something that is rarely seen in queer cinema, offering audiences a different perspective. When I was a teenager, one of my family members was placed in a juvenile detention centre, and the experience of that family member allowed me to critique the system and the social layers of oppression surrounding it.
“Un Chant d’Amour was very avant-garde because it tells the story of a love between two men separated by a wall, specifically a prison wall”
Q. There are clear parallels between The Lost Boys and Jean Genet’s Un Chant d’Amour (1950) and François Truffaut’s The 400 Blows (1959). Can you tell us more about the influence of both directors on your directorial vision and style?
We were in the very early stages of writing when I saw a video of Patti Smith speaking to an audience of young kids about how contemporary society is akin to living in perpetual adolescence. We know there’s something wrong, and we fight, but we don’t know what it is, or where we are going. I just wanted to portray this through my characters. They know something is wrong, but they don’t consider which direction to take; they just go for it because something better and more truthful awaits them.
The 400 Blows was a significant reference point in this regard. The ending of The 400 Blows sees Antoine run into the sea; it’s a beginning and an end, something I hope audiences also take from the final scenes of The Lost Boys. And Un Chant d’Amour, what can I say? For me, it’s the best movie ever made. Un Chant d’Amour was very avant-garde because it tells the story of a love between two men separated by a wall, specifically a prison wall. What is this wall for, Jean Genet? It’s morality, censorship and the law. It’s everything that makes our society. I paid homage to Jean’s work by reshaping these themes. However, I was also influenced by American independent cinema; for example, Antonio Campo’s After School was a reference point for me.
Q: Before The Lost Boys, you directed several short films, including Jay Parmi les Hommes and Mouettes. Did your short film experience influence your approach to the film?
My two short films were about toxic masculinity. My last short film was about a young man who feels he has to please his father by bringing a girl home, so he ends up kidnapping a girl to make his dad happy. Another was about a tainted passion between a boy and a girl and the intersection between passion and violence. Following that work, I aimed to portray positive representations of masculinity that are often overlooked, such as tenderness and love, and characters who could inspire an audience.
Queer cinema is full of stories where characters don’t accept themselves and their feelings; the whole arc asks, “Are they going to be able to communicate and kiss by the end of the movie? For me, as a queer person, watching these movies, many of the conflicts of queer life after we come out are left out. Some films explore the conflict between love, society, and relationships; Happy Together is one such film. However, we need more stories that delve into the social issues surrounding queerness and queer love by telling our stories more broadly, including the conflicts.
Q: The conflict at the heart of The Lost Boys (Le Paradis) is less about Joe and William’s romance and more about their being trapped under the ice of state control and the revolving door of youth detention. How did you go about researching the experience of young men in custody?
I obtained the authorisation from the Ministry of Youth to visit several institutions and meet with the children and educators during the writing process. I wanted to write something that wasn’t black and white but raw. I wanted to give the educators credit for putting 100% into their jobs while reflecting on the barriers of the “system”. It’s built to keep people inside, and we’re all responsible for that system.
I’ve given a lot of thought to what the queer experience is. In the United States, queer liberation began with the concept of intersectionality. For example, Stonewall wouldn’t have happened if the Black Panthers had never existed. As I reflected on queer cinema, I wanted to set my story of young love within a broader political landscape of social issues and intersections. Issues of class, abandonment, gender and race thread through the prison system. But what was subversive for me was to explore the harsh realities of that prison system against a backdrop of love and tenderness, not just through sex but also through the touch of a dividing wall when you know who is lying behind it.
Q: Music and art are at the heart of Joe and William’s love, whether listening to music through a wall, dancing or designing a tattoo. Can you tell us more about the role of art and expression in both boys’ journeys?
You know, society wants you to see these kids as inhumane, but art and music give them their humanity back. They are so much more than criminals. Art opens the viewer’s eyes to who they can be and who they actually are: talented, clever, artistic, musical and wise young men. Joe’s love of music also allowed me to explore his Arab roots.
Our composer, Bachar Mar-Khalifé, beautifully elevated the score with Arabic influences. I wanted to connect things that are not often connected; for example, the queer love and the sex scenes dovetail with Arabic music, telling the audience, “you see, it’s nice together”. I wanted to channel the fact that Arabic identity is not an obstacle to queer love, and that is a bias that we are fed by mainstream media all the time.
The Persian poet Rumi also directly inspired our music, although it is not immediately apparent in the film. Rumi wrote about love in the Middle Ages, particularly his profound love for God. The letters he addressed to God led to Sufism, a branch of Islam. Sufism is really about the body, dance, singing and how you feel as you allow God into your body. You enter God, and God enters you; Bachar Mar-Khalifé used these poems in the score.
“Prison is a system that sets certain people aside; it reflects the society we have built. People ask me, “Is the prison system broken? Does it need to be rebuilt and reformed? The system works because it does what we (society) want it to”.
Q: You have discussed Joe’s Arabic heritage and its importance in defining his character. But his heritage also highlights the racial inequalities at the heart of the prison system. The Lost Boys effectively weaves together discussions on race, sexuality, gender, and class to explore the complex intersections of discrimination and oppression. How important was it for you to reflect on these intersections?
We were creating a love story first, and I needed to keep all these other issues from overshadowing the original intention. However, the love story genre also allows filmmakers to explore social issues inherent to the genre at its core. While we don’t talk directly about race, the rap segment explores feelings of disconnect, racism and oppression. Equally, race, family, and class are explored through the visits some young men receive while others don’t.
Prison is a system that sets certain people aside; it reflects the society we have built. People ask me, “Is the prison system broken?” Does it need to be rebuilt and reformed? The system works because it does what we (society) want it to. Movies that excite me are those that blend multiple themes and discussions into a single story.
Q: You pulled together an outstanding young cast led by Khalil Ben Gharbia and Julien De Saint Jean. Can you tell us about that casting process?
Khalil and Julien were cast in a very classical way. I was familiar with them from previous work. I wanted young men to explore their own masculinity, so I asked them questions such as “Who are your heroes?” And you know, when Khalil replied, he talked about Kurt Cobain, David Bowie, and Jim Morrison, and I knew he was the only one who could play Joe. At a young age, he tapped into his fragility and vulnerability, a quality many young actors struggle to achieve. So, he was an obvious choice. He is a very instinctive actor who dropped out of an academic career to pursue acting, but hasn’t had classical training.
Then you have Julien, who is very academic and a big reader. He read about the sociological aspects of the prison system for young guys, and his chemistry with Khalil worked as their different acting techniques harmoniously created what we needed.
We had a week of rehearsals, which is very precious, and many production companies don’t allow it because of budget constraints, but it was so important because it created a family atmosphere. At the end of that week, we visited an actual detention centre, and they all had the opportunity to meet some kids and ask them questions. It was a truly moving moment that had a profound impact on us all. That visit gave each actor a sense of responsibility in telling this story.
THE LOST BOYS (LE PARADIS) IS SHOWING IN CINEMAS NATIONWIDE FROM DECEMBER 15.
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