The Electric Kiss

Its central love quadrangle, which straddles two separate time periods with ease, is breezily absorbing thanks to its participants’ plentiful chemistry, while the plot embraces and dodges clichés by turns with quickstepping finesse.

The whimsical tone becomes repetitive at times, and the recurring flashbacks to Antoine’s relationship with Irene often slows the film’s narrative momentum. Additionally, the film nearly collapses under the weight of its lofty ambitions in the final act, only to dodge a potentially disastrous conclusion. However, the believability of Antoine and Suzanne’s shared journey holds firm.

While never quite predictable, The Electric Kiss lacks the knowing brio of recent French period pastiches such as François Ozon’s The Crime is Mine or Cédric Klapisch’s 2025 Colours of Time, similarly set in Paris bohemia.

Salvadori’s greatest crime is denying Antoine and Suzanne the space to develop the chemistry which makes their budding romance seem plausible.

Unable to neatly reconcile its two narrative premises, the film loses momentum, pushing well past the brisk runtime and zippy pace this kind of material usually depends on. That overextension also affects tone, as Salvadori never quite settles on how sharp the film should be.

The film’s absurdity and antique dramatic style never quite come to life.

It seemed like an entertainment that might have something for everyone. But The Electric Kiss is so overcalculated, so stuffy and labored, so infatuated with its own conceits that I suspect it will end up satisfying virtually no one.