Set in Paris, 1968, during the student riots, we follow young Matthew (Michael Pitt), an American student, mesmerised by the passion and creativity of the Cinematheque Francais and those who watched endless films, captivated by their beauty and wonder. Pitt is rather good in the role and, for a young actor, he is building an impressive diversity to his list of credits, which stretches from the likes of Dawson's Creek to Hedwig And The Angry Inch.

However, he is even more mesmerised by the achingly beautiful Isobel (Eva Green) - and she is beautiful - as she dances her way through this pivotal period of French and world history. The notion that the cinema's closure somehow sparked the riots is well considered and not totally unbelievable. Yet everything is just a game for her and her twin brother, Theo (Louis Garrel). With the help of daddy's constant stream of cheques, they play with abandon, exploring life, love and each other, before taking naive Matthew under their spell.

When papa and their English mother retreat to the coast for a month, the terrible twins - Siamese in their affection and desire for one another - invite Matthew to stay and a human study in the pleasures of the mind and body quickly follows. I wouldn't say it is reminiscent of Lord Of The Flies, but director Bernardo Bertolucci examines the excessive, capricious idealism of youth and, in highly charged sexual scenes, leaves nothing to the imagination.

Based on a novel by Gilbert Adair, the film is beautifully shot. It captures much of the innocence and changing attitudes of the time and, by intercutting old footage of the likes of Greta Garbo, John Gilbert, Jean-Pierre Kalfon, Anna Karina and Jean Seberg with classic rock tracks from Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin and Jim Morrison, the director fuels this notion of his enfant terribles on a wild exploration of expression and influence.

Freedom of speech, music, art, literature and Maoism are discussed and our young threesome have passionately differing views, but just as the twins's slightly perverse attraction to Matthew threatens to spill out of control, Bertolucci pulls back and, in the face of the erupting riots, leaves them to their own devices.

Ultimately, there is no real significance to any of this, but as long as you go with an open mind, I guarantee you will struggle to find another Sixties movie quite like it.