Young Marie (Acquart) is close friends with chubby oddball Anne (Blachere), who in turn nurtures a crush on fit Ryan Phillippe lookalike Francois (Jacquin), who is aching to sleep with the glacially beautiful synchronized swimmer Floriane (Haenel), who is loathed by her team mates but is the object of Marie’s growing curiosity.

Yep, it’s tough living in Teentown and writer/director Sciamma captures the fear, missteps, pain and elation of adolescence, shot with a uniquely female eye.

Plot twists lead the three characters into unexpected situations and, despite their inexperience Acquart, Blachere and Haenel impress as young ladies governed by fluctuating emotions.

Frank depictions of the girls’ bodies, their sexual awakening and experimentation run the risk of exploitation, but the assured handling of potentially dodgy material packs real emotional weight.

A bumbling lesbian fumble is earth-shattering for Marie but merely removes the burden of virginity for the misunderstood Floriane, and Anne’s first sexual encounter is as heartbreaking as her revenge is surprising.

Refreshingly, Water Lilies keeps the adults off-screen, leaving the characters to sink or swim themselves.

Sciamma keeps the film’s look suburban and dull, with flashes of energy and colour in the swimming pool wonderland where the girls can become someone else, assisted by elegantly shot synchronized swimming (it’s not all nose-plugs and long legs after all), while Para One’s synch score provides a final magical flourish.

Short, sweet and modest, like Floriane's aquatic sport Water Lilies is pretty and dainty to the eye, but there is a raging torrent of activity beneath the surface.

Rob Daniel