Venice in February, empty alleys and squares, hardly a boat in sight on the lagoon. These are moving scenes without humans, without life, which are gradually charged with emotions, transformed into atmospheric pictures of a relationship that could never be. We never see the lovers, do not learn their names. And yet the film is deeply intimate as we follow an offscreen first-person narrative.
It is about the game of closeness and distance. One of them withdraws after sex, unable to stand by his queer desire in public. The narrator in turn does not feel that the term “boyfriend” applies to him. The memories take us back to the first kiss, the first blowjobs, accompanied by shots of Amsterdam that seem to be sizzling. In a monologue, the first-person narrator recalls his emotional states – from the end to the beginning. At last summery shots of a lake. And a new encounter.