‘The Electric Kiss’ Review – A Visually Lush Film That Slightly Struggles Under Its Own Weight [Cannes 2026]

We all know that love can be complicated, and we don’t need a rom-com, a drama, or an explosive romance to tell us that. However, once in a while, there’s a love story that reminds us again of how messy and devastating love can be, especially when loss is involved, while simultaneously restoring our faith in the possibility of having a wonderful relationship with someone we can call a partner. One of these is The Electric Kiss, this year’s opening film of the Cannes Film Festival.

Just as many great love stories are, Pierre Salvadori’s (In Therapy) latest feature is set in Paris in the late 1920s. From the start, the movie delights you with soft colours, vibrant cinematography, and a soothing score. Even before one word is said, you find yourself drawn to the screen. That’s not only because of the wistful atmosphere, the intriguing vaudeville characters, and the hint of social realism, but also because of the luminous Anaïs Demoustier.

After gracing the Croissette with, amongst others, The Count of Monte Cristo and The Snows of Kilimanjaro (2011), the French actress returns to the Palais as ‘Venus Electrificata’. Dressed in nothing but a vibrant playsuit, fishnets, and heavy makeup, ‘Venus Electrificata’, also known as Suzanne, earns pennies on the dollar at a run-down fairground by making the audience feel the overwhelming intensity of love. Or should we say tricking the audience as she uses volts of electricity running through her while kissing the strangers in order for them to experience the perilous intensity of her so-called love.

Upon that point, Demoustier gives a more somber performance as Suzanne’s life has been shaped by hardship. Sold by her father to the circus, the desperate carnival performer grew up surrounded by instability, where even food and money are constantly scarce. However, when, on one night, a drunken client, Antoine (Pio Marmaï), mistakes Suzanne for the carnival psychic, both her life and Demoustier’s performance take on a more uplifting tone. That’s because Suzanne goes along with pretending to be a medium who can supposedly communicate with the spirit of Antoine’s dead lover Irène (Vimala Pons). All the while, Antoine’s friend and art dealer, Armand (Gilles Lellouche), fuels her scheme and pockets.

What until then was a one-woman show by Demoustier (apart from the few scenes with Gustave Kervern as the conniving fairground leader) becomes a two-hander between her and Marmaï (Happening). It has to be said that for a famous and clever painter, who sadly lost his passion as he blames himself for Irène’s death, Antoine is extremely gullible and slightly generic. Salvadori and his writing team seem extremely uninterested in exploring Antoine in depth. Despite a painstakingly underdeveloped character, Marmaï brings enough compassion, playfulness, and passion to the role, allowing the central relationship to work beautifully alongside an equally compelling Demoustier. Cinematographer Julien Poupard’s eye for finesse and detail is the perfect starting point for the effortlessly warm vibe, while Marmaï and Demoustier’s theatrical comedy will put a big smile on your face.

However, as we all know, relationships can get complicated and messy quite quickly, especially when attraction changes, and sadly, we can say the same about the script. If this movie had just been about the consequences of pretence, wanting a better life, and not being afraid to lie, it would definitely have been a stronger work than it currently is. It’s unfortunate that the writers take the story into their hands and run just a little too far with it. The more Antoine tries to make contact with Irene, the more lucrative Suzanne’s new position becomes, and the more time they spend together. Meanwhile, a series of other plotlines begin to surface, involving beautifully written diaries, a secret love-triangle (Who is the third person in this ménage à trois?), and someone’s best friend. 

On top of that, there are also the extended flashbacks in the later part of the movie. They not only decrease the feature’s vibrant energy but also undermine Pons’ scene-stealing performance. She delivers equally vigorous acting as in The Rendez-Vous of Déjà Vu, and Vincent Must Die, and turns a clichéd role into the most endearing one in the movie. Just a little less complexity and a bit more straightforwardness would have worked better both in life and in the film. For a movie that relies on its visuals and upbeat score to do the talking, it leans heavily on conversation and overly dense dialogue.

While a woman doing whatever she can to get by and a man clinging onto love, hope and loss could have easily led to a vibrant and balanced movie, the sluggish pace and the overstuffed script do dim the exhilaration from The Electric Kiss. Nevertheless, the movie still ensures that the 79th edition of the Cannes Film Festival is off to a charming start, with its heartwarming atmosphere, lush cinematography, and strong performances enchanting you.

The Electric Kiss held its World Premiere as the Opening Night film of the 2026 Cannes Film Festival. 

Director: Pierre Salvadori

Screenwriters: Pierre Salvadori, Benjamin Charbit, Benoît Graffin

Rated: NR

Runtime: 122m