By the Sea

In sun‑kissed 1970s France, a quiet seaside town becomes the backdrop for a fragile marriage in search of respite. The town’s pastel facades, the steady hum of waves, and the languid rhythm of hotel life create an atmosphere that feels both idyllic and slightly out of step with the couple’s inner turbulence. The setting invites contemplation, its serenity a counterpoint to the unspoken tension that lingers beneath the surface.

​Vanessa, a former dancer whose poise masks a hidden weight, arrives with her husband, ​Roland, a once‑celebrated writer now stymied by a stubborn block. Their days unfold in a series of polite conversations and lingering silences, each moment tinged with the awareness that something vital has slipped away. The couple’s outward calm hints at deeper currents of longing, regret, and the quiet desperation to reclaim a sense of purpose that feels increasingly out of reach.

Their retreat, however, is not an island. Other vacationers drift into the hotel’s communal spaces, bringing with them a fresh, unguarded optimism that subtly disrupts the couple’s self‑imposed isolation. The presence of these guests introduces a gentle friction, prompting the pair to observe, reflect, and, in small ways, mirror each other’s unvoiced concerns. The atmosphere remains breezy yet charged, as the sea’s endless horizon seems to echo the possibility of change.

The film balances the soft, almost tactile quality of the coastal setting with a quiet, introspective tone. It invites viewers to linger on the moments between words, to feel the weight of what is left unsaid, and to sense the delicate dance of two people navigating the space between love’s remnants and the promise of new understanding.

Last Updated: October 05, 2025 at 16:55