A businessman takes a bus to a distant forest and vanishes. A hotel clerk leaves cryptic telephone messages to herself. An insurance salesman fights loneliness and sexual frustration.
Everybody’s lost in Continental, a Film Without Guns, Stéphane Lafleur’s wry drama of alienation and loneliness.
They are caught in the gaps of everyday life, the flat lines between the highs of elation and the lows of depression. The title is a double-barrelled pun: the Continental is a dance where everybody moves in unison but never touches; and a film without guns has no targets or bullets. It recalls the bleak humour often seen in Scandinavian movies.
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