Passages

"Tomas" (Franz Rogowski) and husband "Martin" (Ben Whishaw) find their marriage severley tested when the former man starts to fall for "Agathe" (Adèle Exarchopoulos) and that passion drives "Martin" into the arms of "Amad" (Erwan Kepoa Falé). What now ensues is, frankly, a rather dull introspective of characters that didn't really leap off the screen at me. Rogowski can be a charismatic actor, but here he offers us a rather unremarkable characterisation of a horny man who wants to have his cake and eat it. Whishaw is, routinely these days on screen, just a bit weedy and presents another weakly constructed individual who seems content not to fight for the man he's supposed to love. It all just rolls along without really catching fire, it's over-scripted and though it may well have a visual authenticity to it, it's all just a bit so what? The production and pacing all contribute to the general ennui of the film and to be honest, I was just a bit disappointed with this whole thing. I saw it at the cinema this week, but I suspect even the most ardent fans of these three can wait for a television screening.

More promise than execution, "Passages" tackles twentysomethings navigating gender fluid sexuality with Paris as the backdrop. Welcome to the Tomas, Martin and Agathe dance. Narcissist and disagreeable German film director, Tomas is the unfortunate rotten core here. His marriage to Martin is disrupted by a purely sexual tryst with fetching schoolteacher Agathe, and Tomas can't wait to gush about his walk on the straight side to his husband. Things don't go well.

An interesting premise for sure, but one that plays out sloppily, without any character development to speak of, unless Tomas' deplorable indifference counts. An ugly persona, with an appearance to match - a patchy beard, gaunt features, a snaky lisp and a horrific wardrobe (which ironically, is getting kudos from GQ) - it's a bit of a puzzle as to his alure. Surprisingly, he's quite dull to boot, which makes for an odd protagonist: a difficult one to hate, or care for.

"Passages" takes stabs at the French New Wave, dishing up randy youth moving aimlessly through Paris to a jazzy backdrop, but with the exception of a lovely, film-closing evening bike ride, doesn't hit the mark. Without style, the absence of substance dominates this lackluster experience.

• hipCRANK.

As you see from the trailer a gay man in a gay marriage has sex with a woman. Don't think you'll find out why. You won't. His gay husband is OK with that. Don't know why. He just seems to sleep with one or the other as he pleases and nobody seems to object. There is almost no pressure on him to choose between them so don't expect any drama. I'm not telling you the ending but it's as calm as the rest of the film. Is he in love with either of them? Don't know. So I am giving it a 6. It's not bad but it doesn't go anywhere and doesn't answer any questions about the characters. Given the potential material it's very disappointing.

German film director Tomas (Franz Rogowski) and his British commercial artist husband Martin (Ben Whishaw) have been together for 15 years ...quite an achievement, I'd say, given just how immature, capricious and utterly self-obsessed Tomas routinely shows himself to be. Pretty much the only glue holding them together appears to be the fact that, whatever else may have gone stale between them, the sex is still good.

Although the script never explicitly mentions it, it would appear that theirs is an exclusive marriage: i.e. There are no intimations given to suggest that it's an open relationship, in which permission to "play away" has been agreed - so when, out of the blue, Tomas finds himself intensely attracted to a 20-something female schoolteacher called Agathe - an attraction he pursues with typically impulsive selfishness and no regard for anybody's feelings but his own - the impact on Martin (and, in due course, Agathe) is just as seismic as you'd expect.

Essentially what we have here is a portrait of a narcissist, in thrall to his own impulses, manipulative and duplicitous when it suits his purpose, and incapable of facing up to the consequences of his actions. Tomas is a study in arrested development: emotionally he's barely more than a toddler - a little boy who, on seeing a shiny new toy, must have it, and cannot understand why everybody else can't just go with his flow and let him have his way.

It's a tough challenge to play an unlikeable character and still keep your audience invested in them, but Rogowski pulls it off superbly, showing us that Tomas is as much a victim of his destructive personality traits as is everyone else who falls foul of them. As much as I despised Tomas's behaviour, I couldn't help but find myself feeling sympathy for his damaged soul. In that final night-time bike ride through Paris - having lost, by his own actions, everything of genuine value - he is truly heading nowhere.

Addendum: In the course of this movie I learned a frankly jaw-dropping, thing - that, in the 21st century, French schools have appallingly lax security: apparently any random stranger can get on the premises and barge into a classroom!

Who knows what routes were taken to be you, the entrances and doorways you've passed through, the aisles and the channels, the thoroughfares you've unravelled, the barriers you've broken and forced through. As you begin a fresh departure from your husband, deploying all your tools, with a brand new hand, falling for French girl Agathe, trying on restyled hat, nipping back to make sure flames are truly fanned. As the music stops you look for a new chair, continuing with conflict and despair, like a ball (a pair even) you bounce around, a kind of yo-yo is unwound, until you're snookered and then left, to go nowhere.