For all the growing fascination with the sexuality of barely pubescent girls,
the results on film have proven dreary, strident, and pretentious, like the
recent repertoire of Christina Ricci and this debut feature from French
director Manuel Pradal, a kind of Kids by way of Last Year at
Marienbad. Even a fragmentary, non-chronological narrative and disjointed
imagery can't obscure the story's basic lack of originality or point.
Set in present-day Nice, the film takes its title from its 15-year-old heroine
Marie (a pouty, limber Vahina Giocante), who's nicknamed after the local Bay of
the Angels by the Yank sailors she fancies -- drunken louts who seem refugees
from a Jacques Demy movie gone horribly awry. Vying with them for her
attentions is Orso (Frederic Malgras), the most sullen of the street punks who
prowl the city on motorbikes. He seems more smitten by his handgun, however,
and so the three escape for a brief Badlands-like idyll on a rocky
island in the bay. Laboriously circling in on its focal moments of random
violence and ennui, unconvincingly tied together by a legend about the
"angels," killer sharks that once protected the bay from invaders but now must
be placated by the sacrifice of children, Marie is an exercise in
pointy-headed pedophilia.
--Peter Keough
Capsule Reviews
Marie Baie des Anges 
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