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"Laetitia" (Laetitia Dosch) is one of those people I'd dread to meet at a party. She's a bit drunk, opinionated and loves the sound of her own voice. "Thomas" (Thomas Lévy-Lasne) is her victim but he doesn't seem to mind. He's an artist without a sou to his name who is just looking for some diversion. It's clear that each has found in the other what they need for this particular night, and leave for a few escapades before returning to his bedsit. Will this fulfil either of their desires? Dosch delivers her emotionally charged character quite effectively here, and Lévy-Lasne soaks it all up readily enough but there's something lacking here. There are too many ancillary characters - usually on the phone - who clutter up the intimacy of their sometimes quite potent double header and the scenes in the hospital distract from that too. Their lives seem to be designed for maximum dramatic effect rather than any sense of realism, or to engender empathy for either. We just don't know enough about them, which for a film of thirty minutes is a shame. A fly-on-the-wall observation that left me cold, sorry.