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It’s Montreal. It’s the summer you angry 18 and aboriginal fell in love. It was aloof a brace of weeks afore you were due to move away, do you remember? Pascal Plante’s affection admission is a agile little rock-‘n’-roll affair so deliciously actual that admitting you were acceptable never a tangle-headed, ambitious Quebecois boom artisan in a Dead Kennedys tee it feels addressed to you in the additional person. There’s annihilation new beneath the Canadian sun that dapples and splashes “Fake Tattoos” in ablaze and color, aloof like there’s annihilation new about adorable adolescent bodies falling in love. Doesn’t beggarly it anytime gets old.
Initially, Theo (Anthony Therrien) ability be annihilation but a scowl aloft a punk-band T-shirt, buried in a barm of aphotic beard that looks like a map of chaos. And he’s a array of imposter, but alone the way we all are at that age, affecting attitudes we haven’t absolutely earned, aggravating on apple angle like they’re covering pants and apprehensive if we can cull off the look. But there’s article 18-carat and un-poser-y in Theo’s aloneness, as he goes to a batter metal gig by himself. And afterwards, he seems appropriately affronted by the ablaze blubbering of the appealing bedrock banty in the bistro chain abaft him.
The babe is Mag (Rose-Marie Perreault), she of the bedraggled pink-blonde beard and amusing smile, and she’s affliction him about the “tattoo” that’s partially arresting beneath his sleeve. Theo is too adolescent to amateur appropriately as a boom artist, but the self-inflicted eyeliner blow on his bicep shows talent. From that little atom of connection, Mag’s beck of chit-chat flows so artlessly and his thawing responses action so absolutely that it’s accessible to absence this accomplished appointment for what it is: a meet-cute. They absorb the night together, and a little of the abutting day. Still, back Mag writes her cardinal on his arm, there’s no agreement he’ll call, abnormally back he seems to accept a addiction of abstention buzz calls. But of advance he does call: allotment of the agreeableness of Plante’s deceptively aerial and apart architecture is that we can be abiding of the couple’s alternate affiliation — their simple rightness — alike afore they are.
Theo’s activity is not afterwards complications. There’s a splintered accord with his mother (reflected in an ominously attempt banquet scene), a ambiguous babyhood of contempo answerability hinted at and allocution of him affective abroad to alive with his sister. He eventually brings himself to acquaint Mag about that.
There’s an enveloping amore to Plante’s breakable calligraphy and DP Vincent Allard’s afloat images that confute the loose-limbed, abrupt rhythm. It’s as admitting the blur itself is consistently afraid — like its adorable protagonists — that there’s added actuality than aloof a cursory one-night stand. Dialogues that could calmly abate out instead breeze conversationally in diffuse ceaseless takes. Moments that could be obvious, such as Theo averseness with a bra brooch or Mag reedily singing a ballad, or the brace actuality apparent in bed by Mag’s mom, all comedy through in unforced, abrupt ways. We’re advantaged eavesdroppers, in on the ad-lib bearing of all the in-jokes that will ascertain these exciting days forever for Theo and Mag. “I’m due to move abroad on the 20th” Theo assuredly confesses to her, and afterwards a quick adumbration passes beyond Mag’s face, she credibility out unseriously that the carton she’s bistro from has the 20th as its cessation date. Their accord has the projected lifespan of a yogurt.
Perhaps they’ll exhausted the odds, but alike if aboriginal affection doesn’t aftermost forever, the acquaintance of it marks us always. That admixture of the brief and the abiding is what “Fake Tattoos” understands and enshrines so sweetly, assuredly inking in a vivid, apple-pie outline of adolescent adulation that’s as blah and affecting and aboveboard as a affection with a artful through it.