Comparisons to the Before trilogy are inevitable — the first half of the film is essentially one long walk-and-talk between two teenagers on a first date, largely in real time — but, thankfully, Manivel has more to offer than Linklater-lite. His unnamed protagonists (Maxime Bachellerie and Naomie Vogt-Roby) behave like you'd expect two nervous adolescents who don't know each other very well to: He asks if she's heard of Freud (she hasn't) before offering a primer on psychoanalysis; she does a handstand and dares him to try one of his own.
Manivel has a sly, understated control over this walk through the park, but there’s more on his mind than the awkward courtship of two mumbling teens. When the girl shows the boy a photo on her phone, Manivel displays it onscreen so we can see what they're seeing. It's a brief, lo-fi interruption of the action, but also a small act signaling a sort of break. There's a growing energy between the two adolescents and beyond, and over the course of Le parc's 73 minutes it comes to be the film's dominant force.
Your mileage may vary when it comes time to watch nothing more than the girl's face as she works out this not-quite-relationship via text message, but similar scenes don't prevent Kristen Stewart from compelling in Olivier Assayas's Personal Shopper. And, wouldn't you know it, Manivel likewise commingles SMS with the surreal, marking the latter half of his film with his heroine's out-of-nowhere decision to to walking backwards through the park. It's as though she's retracing her steps in reverse to see where the day went wrong, as mystified by what's transpired as we might be.
The less immediate sense it makes, the more Le parc intrigues. Manivel invites us to get to know his film in a tentative but intimate way, a process that goes more smoothly for us than it does for his characters.