Imagine being in your late twenties, diagnosed with throat cancer — most likely from an HPV infection — and being told you have to freeze your sperm immediately if you ever want kids because chemotherapy starts in three days. That’s the brutal starting point of Nino (2025), written and directed by Pauline Loquès, starring Theodor Pellerin in the title role.
What follows isn’t over-the-top melodrama, but a nuanced exploration of what happens when life shifts overnight — how you withdraw and try to process something that just doesn’t make sense.
The film unfolds over a weekend in Paris, living in that blurry moment right after bad news hits. There’s no emotional explosion — just a slow, foggy attempt to figure out what’s next. Loquès digs into the ways we reach out for closeness without knowing how to ask for it; the way fear and shame make us pull away, even when what we really need is connection; and how even in that lonely space, love finds a way in through small, surprising moments.
Despite the heavy subject matter, Nino doesn’t drown in doom. Loquès balances the weight with a kind of dry realism that feels distinctly French. One of the first things that happens is Nino getting locked out of his apartment — a classic Murphy’s Law situation that sets the tone for everything that follows. It’s not played for laughs, but when you pair that with the awkwardness of him being told at the hospital that he needs to give a sperm sample, it does create a kind of absurd humour. The film doesn’t try to be funny, but it nails that experience of life falling apart in the most mundane, unexpected way. That feeling that everything is going so poorly, you might need to just laugh about it. And in the middle of it, there’s Nino, facing the bizarre irony of having to celebrate his life while possibly losing it (did I mention it’s his birthday and his friends throw him a surprise party?)
Loquès doesn’t try to preach about STDs, but does stress the importance of disclosure when Nino tries to inform a former girlfriend about his HPV diagnosis. His intentions are noble — he wants her to get tested — but instead of speaking to her directly, he resorts to leaving a note in her mailbox. She catches him mid-act. It’s awkward and painful, but handled with sensitivity. Loquès doesn’t present it as a flaw in his character. Rather, it’s a deeply human moment: someone trying to do the right thing, but unsure of how.
Pellerin, coming off a banger performance in Lurker (Alex Russell, 2025), where he played a retail worker caught in the whirlwind of a rising pop star’s world, is completely in tune with this character. He’s letting Nino’s inner turmoil — fear, anxiety, doubt, uncertainty — speak for itself. It’s a tough role to carry, and Pellerin appears in virtually every frame, but he makes Nino’s struggle with facing mortality look effortless. Paired with Loquès’ sharp, deeply personal script — based on her own experiences — Nino slowly swells into something powerful: a film about falling apart and starting to come back together. One awkward, fumbling step at a time.
Jared loves movies and lives with Kiki in Berlin.