The central issue with Adore is that it never quite decides what it wants to say. Does it want to be a serious drama about grief, loneliness, and the blurred lines between maternal and romantic love? Or is it a glossy, soft-core fantasy about older women and younger men? The film straddles both lanes uncomfortably.
Rating: ⭐⭐½ (2.5/5)
The relationships begin when the boys are 15 (though the actors are clearly adults, which softens the ick factor). The narrative glosses over the inherent power imbalance and potential for psychological damage with surprising speed. Instead of a gritty exploration of abuse or manipulation, Adore presents the affairs as almost natural—a kind of logical, beautiful extension of the friends’ intense bond. The lack of societal judgment (the small town seems oddly oblivious) robs the story of tension it desperately needs. adore full movie
Adore is less about love and more about selfishness. It asks whether a lifelong friendship can survive when both parties decide to burn the rulebook of motherhood together. The answer the film gives is haunting, but getting there requires a hefty suspension of disbelief.
On the surface, the film is visually stunning. The setting—a sleepy, coastal beach town—is shot with a hazy, dreamlike quality. The turquoise water and golden sand create an Edenic paradise that deliberately contrasts with the deep, messy taboos being explored. Director Anne Fontaine lingers on the beauty of the landscape and the actors, using the natural light to create an atmosphere of timeless, forbidden indulgence. The central issue with Adore is that it
Adore is the kind of film that begs to be discussed rather than simply watched. Based on Doris Lessing’s novella The Grandmothers , this sun-drenched Australian drama presents a provocative premise: two lifelong best friends (Naomi Watts and Robin Wright) begin romantic and sexual relationships with each other’s teenage sons.
Adore is a beautiful, frustrating, and utterly strange film. It is too melodramatic to be a serious art-house hit, yet too slow and contemplative to be a trashy thriller. For viewers willing to suspend modern ethical lens and embrace the film as a fable about obsessive love, there is a hypnotic, tragic quality to it. You will likely find yourself shouting at the screen, but you probably won’t look away. The film straddles both lanes uncomfortably
The film’s saving grace is its powerhouse leads. Naomi Watts (as Lil) and Robin Wright (as Roz) are completely committed. Their chemistry as lifelong friends feels authentic—you believe they have shared secrets, grief, and laughter for decades. Wright brings a grounded, steely vulnerability to Roz, a widow clinging to youth and affection. Watts, meanwhile, plays Lil with a softer, more ethereal recklessness. Their internal conflict is written on their faces, even when the script fails them.