Trivial

In the fog‑kissed coastal towns of Le Havre and Deauville, a weary police lieutenant is pulled from his own shadows to investigate the sudden disappearance of an elderly hotel manager. Still haunted by the loss of his wife and the lingering echo of a failed suicide attempt, Jacques Renard bears the weight of personal grief while navigating a case that promises little more than a routine missing‑person report. The hotel’s opulent façade, however, conceals a network of family secrets and an atmosphere thick with unspoken histories, turning the assignment into a delicate dance between duty and obsession.

Renard’s investigation is quickly complicated by the arrival of a mysterious woman who vanishes as abruptly as she appears, leaving behind an unsettling sense that something—or someone—else is guiding his steps. As he delves deeper, the whisper of a long‑dead actress begins to surface, her spectral presence offering cryptic assistance that blurs the line between reality and imagination. The ghostly counsel suggests that the past is not merely a backdrop but an active, perhaps malevolent, participant in the present mystery.

The film’s tone balances moody, rain‑slicked streets with the eerie quiet of the hotel’s corridors, where each portrait and forgotten photograph feels like a portal to another time. Renard must confront his own fractured psyche, questioning whether the guidance he receives is a supernatural lifeline or a manifestation of his own desperation. The interplay of lingering melancholy, understated suspense, and the thin veil separating the living from the dead creates a compelling tableau that invites the viewer to wonder what is truly hidden behind closed doors—and whether some mysteries are meant to remain unsolved.

Last Updated: October 11, 2025 at 19:45