L'Odio (1995) | La Haine (France)

Rather like Haneke's Code Inconnu, we follow a principle trio of destitute urban teenagers through 24 hours in episodes, punctuated with screen splits showing the time - and, invariably, their boredom. There is no romanticism or squalor in squalid drug dens (unlike in the contemporary Trainspotting) or any carousel of murder. The boys want to do their own thing, perhaps collect the pettiest of debts and get along. Instead their every encounter breaks down into goading and aggression, however constructively instigated by the boys.

Kassowitz paints bleak sequences, but without a sense of hopelessness. Instead we are left with frustration that there is no intervention to manipulate the intelligence and good intentions of the boys at each chapter of their day. The episode in the private gallery is the perfect example of this; the imaginary cul-de-sac of self-worth that eventually leads them to behave with defensive antagonism is a painful scene.

Vincent Cassel is the money name leading the melodrama. Said Tagmaouhi is a good foil for Cassel's occasionally self-regarding virtuosity, but I was most impressed with Hubert Koundeas, the introspective, middle class manqué third of the three. The film stays true throughout, incorporating Paris as a metropolitan backdrop, rather than a beautiful juxtaposition for pity's sake. A troubling, even angry but positive film. A real benchmark. 7.5/10