‘In Waves’ review: French debut animation is handsome, empathetic study of love and grief

Dir. Phuong Mai Nguyen. France/Belgium. 2026. 91mins

Shy teenage skater boy A.J. meets surfer girl Kristen. And he falls headlong in love, both with her and the ocean, waves and sport she is so passionate about. Their happiness together is intensely felt, but fleeting. Kristen is diagnosed with cancer, and the disease casts a long shadow over this sunny, Californian coming-of-age romance. The feature debut from French-Vietnamese director Phuong Mai Nguyen, In Waves is a handsomely realised adaptation of A.J. Dungo’s autobiographical graphic novel. 

The heart of this striking animation is tender and affecting

It’s a film about death and the grief that comes ‘in waves’, but it’s also a picture which is infused with Kristen’s infectious zest for life. Monochrome inserts charting the Hawaiian history of surfing feel a little surplus to requirements, but the heart of this striking animation – the three-way love affair between A.J., Kristen and the sea – is tender and affecting.

In Waves screens in Annecy’s main competition, having premiered in Cannes’ Critics Week as the first animation ever to be selected as the strand’s opening film. Even in a strong year for YA and adult-themed animations, this should be an eye-catching calling card for Nguyen, whose previous work includes the multi-award-winning short film Chez Moi (2014). Further festival exposure is likely ahead of a summer theatrical release in France and Belgium. The film was snapped up by Netflix after its Cannes bow, and the streamer will be hoping that the current YA audience appetite for Japanese anime might extend to hip, high-quality animation from other territories.

The film is set in California (with brief, gorgeously-designed jaunts to New York and Seattle), but Nguyen’s primary version of the film was a French-language iteration, with Lyna Khoudri voicing Kristen and Rio Vega as A.J.; the English-language version substitutes Stephanie Hsu and Will Sharpe respectively. Taking its cue from the structure of the graphic novel, the film is digressive and non-linear, loosely following the trajectory of the relationship between the two central characters, but also weaving in historical details and Hawaiian mythology. Plus there’s an exploration of A.J.’s creative journey as an artist, a journey which will culminate with the book from which the film was adapted.

Nguyen’s deft blend of 2D and 3D animation techniques effectively captures the subtle shifts in the quality of light. The wide open California skies that are the backdrop to the first flush of love are a warm, pink-tinged blue; the light seems to shimmer even when it isn’t reflected on the surface of the ocean. A later scene, when Kristen has beaten the first cancer diagnosis but had to have a leg amputated, shows her fierce will and determination as she runs on her prosthesis in hills that are bathed in triumphant gold. Later still, with very little time left, Kristen, A.J., Kristen’s brother Jeff and A.J.’s cousin Eon take a trip to snowy Seattle – the lemon skies and cool blue light signal a shift away from the early optimism of the first part of the story. And the final days are lit in a crisp, clinical white.

The sea also takes on the tone of the story. Encouraged by Kristen, A.J. overcomes his fear of water that swirls in impressionistic, abstract shapes; his passion for surfing is ignited by majestic immersive tubes of water rendered in the kind of exaltant blues that sing from the screen. But gradually, as the story progresses, the surface of the sea becomes choppier and more erratic. It’s not the most subtle of visual metaphors, but it is pertinent. The music choices include poppy, upbeat numbers by artists such as Lava La Rue and ELOI – it’s a soundtrack that captures the boundless possibilities of youth, and the energy and thrill of first love.