Anyone who immersed themselves in the novel stop with your lieswhich Philippe Besson dedicated to the memory of his first love, Thomas Andrieu (1966-2016), will no doubt be disconcerted when he discovers the adaptation, rather faithful in outline, that Olivier Peyon drew from it (Tokyo Shaking).
While the novelist loses himself in digressions and multiplies superfluous details, failing to stun the reader over the pages, the director has chosen a more refined approach, less talkative, but just as moving.
Thirty-five years after leaving his native village, the writer Philippe Belcourt (Guillaume de Tonquédec, all in interiority) is back there for a few days to sponsor the bicentenary of a brand of cognac. At the hotel where Gaëlle (Guilaine Londez, funny), press attaché, takes him, Thomas meets the gaze of a young man, Lucas (Victor Belmondo, grandson of the famous Jean-Paul, who bequeathed him charisma and talent).
Lucas turns out to be the son of Thomas Andrieu (Julien De Saint-Jean, fiery), the 17-year-old boy Philippe loved so much when he was 17 himself (Jérémy Gillet, sensitive). The novelist’s behavior and questions lead Lucas to understand that Philippe knew his father better than he claims and that the latter hid many things from him.
Of enveloping melancholy, stop with your lies delicately translates the nostalgia for innocence, awkward kisses, the first emotions of the flesh and the heart. It also evokes the painful memory of being rejected for being different. So the young Philippe notices sadly that at school, Thomas only speaks to him by slipping slips of paper discreetly into his hand. Very popular with the girls, Thomas refuses to openly express the attraction he feels for Philippe.
Even if mores have evolved since the time of his first love, that is to say at the height of the AIDS pandemic (which is however hidden in the film), Philippe notes bitterly that homophobia persists while he shocks in spite of himself American tourists to whom he tells of a one-night affair in San Francisco. Although it is less frontal, less brutal, this hatred towards his sexual orientation makes him feel vulnerable and sends him back to his adolescence.
Moreover, Olivier Peyon likes to go back and forth in the past, whether by plunging the character into his thoughts or by physically bringing him back to the places attached to memories, the happy ones as well as the painful ones, using fluid tracking shots from right to left.
To do this, the director favors the train and the moped, taking advantage of the beauty of the place. It will also be noted that, when Philippe returns to his native region, Peyon shows in parallel the young Thomas hastening to leave it in the hope of a better future, thirty years earlier.
All these back and forth movements translate the torments of Philippe and Thomas, the first wishing to flee his past, his roots, the second, his true nature. While the camera gently lands near Philippe and Lucas, at the time of the revelations, Olivier Peyon announces the possibility of making peace with the past, but also with oneself.