In France, young adults (15-18 years old) who face extreme mental health issues or are considered dangerous to themselves or others are placed in young adult psychiatric wards because they’re too young to be grouped in with adult units. It’s the initial setup for Cédric Kahn’s social realism film, 15/18 (A Place to Heal), as we’re introduced to Lucia (Malou Khebizi), a young teenager who makes a grand entrance upon her return after a brief period of being away. She’s jovial with the staff, asking for life updates with old patients, and strutting around the facility like it’s not a psychiatric unit for disturbed teens. 

As Kahn’s film widens to tackle not just Lucia’s life, but many other patients in this hospital, it’s clear he’s toggling the daily, mundane minutiae of many young adults in this inpatient facility, as they figure themselves out and where they fit in with the world. It’s a task that sadly feels less accomplished, as Kahn’s film avoids a cohesive narrative, leaving no room for development.

The distinct characters we do get are Éloïse (Zoé Monpart) a deeply troubled teen girl who’s been in the facility for several months; Marvin (Daoud Gary) who is hearing voices in his head; Zoran (Sami Assouane) who is obsessed with zombies and wants to revisit his mother’s grave; Ulysse (Raphaël Besson) who believes the world is ending — the variety of personalities is not in short supply for this unit. Yet they function more as stand-ins than as palpable characters we can latch onto. Their trauma defines them better than their personalities.

Similar to Lucia, many other patients treat the unit as their home. More often, their real homes are filled with abusive family members or parents ill-equipped to handle their mental struggles. The plain white walls encasing them are their only connection to the world; it’s the only home people like Lucia and other patients have. Cinematographer Patrick Ghiringhelli keeps the unexpected energy alive, using a hand-held approach for scenes of intense emotion and outbursts, where a simple one-on-one conversation can escalate into chaotic mayhem. There’s never a dull moment in 15/18 (A Place to Heal), as some scenes begin or end with an angry outburst, or with more patients having their intake interviews, showing the breadth of troubled teens. 

Here, Kahn develops the infectious camaraderie these characters display. They bicker, argue, and sometimes get unhealthily involved, yet they’re inclusive of each other. Perhaps this is a testament to Kahn’s direction, as all the actors have a natural chemistry which makes their isolating moments feel real and grounded. Kahn and Ghiringhelli certainly want these actors to feel comfortable despite the heavy-handed material that undercuts their performances. More often they’re reduced to yelling caricatures of mentally unstable teens. Still, scenes in which they can laugh, converse, and participate in their recovery — without the script reminding them of their trauma — are a welcome change of pace.

Khebizi’s performance gets the most time to stand out, with a happy, carefree, living-in-the-moment energy. That whimsy can turn on a dime when confronted with her suicidal ideation or wanting to be with her mother, despite her repeated rejections. It’s an engaging performance, one that, if the film were interested in fleshing out Lucia, would provide emotional catharsis for someone in deep anguish. Sadly, the screenplay, co-written by Kahn and Kahina Le Querrec, has no problem dropping her off when she’s not a convenience to the contrived third act. 

Any semblance of a narrative comes into the last half, with the arrival of Enzo (Kenji Peyran), a 17-year-old who stabbed his social worker. The head doctor of the ward, Étienne (played by Kahn himself), doesn’t believe Enzo is actually sick and decides it’s best to wait until he’s 18 to go in front of a judge. His arrival sparks a thinly conceived love triangle between Lucia and Éloïse that jumpstarts the film into an escape narrative. Lucia (who declares she needs a boy in her life because she can’t stand to be alone) clings to Enzo like a bad habit, despite his disinterest.

The story pivots from the ward’s patients to a lackluster romance that is hardly given room to flourish, let alone be cared about. Their breakout results in a major catastrophe that leaves most of the patients on their own, and Kahn strangely never revisits the aftermath. Instead, his focus on Enzo and Éloïse gives the film an awkward climax of meandering around, in search of a loose thread to pull at (or an overall meaning). 

By the time Éloïse is recounting her experiences to a police officer, it’s a wonder as to what Kahn’s goal was. The lack of resolution may be the point regarding mental health with teens. Yet, Kahn seems more interested in a half-baked narrative, which was more of a fly-on-the-wall approach to following the routine nature of what recovery is like for young adults and the exhausted staff lacking the resources or parents’ involvement. 

Perhaps Kahn’s point is that there is no immediate recovery — that it takes time, and can’t be solved in a cohesive film. That can’t be true. If Kahn had stayed consistent and not had a middling third act hijack the docu-drama, the film could have soared. Every character is sketched as a mishmash of troubled teen tropes, but they are never allowed to grow with the narrative. 

There’s no doubt, Kahn ingratiates himself with the material, yet it never feels like he’s exploring more than what he’s comfortable with, or adding dimensions to characters beyond what their traumas would suggest. 15/18 (A Place to Heal) shows an unvarnished portrait of mental health afflicting young adults who are on the verge of being independent. But by the time the ending nears, it never feels like we learned anything more than at the beginning. 

Review Courtesy of Amritpal Rai

Feature Image Credit to Labiennale