The movies aren’t supposed to be real life. Real life on a scale that big, that bright, that intense might be deeply uncomfortable to witness. Instead they are supposed to be something with far more flourish – something more dramatic. Problem is, some films go too far with that idea, and some don’t go far enough.

Then there’s SYBIL, that manages to both go too far and not far enough.

Sybil herself (Virgine Efira) is a psychotherapist who has grown wary of the practice. Our story begins with her giving up most of her clients in order to transition into a career as an author. Before she can make a clean getaway though, she takes a fevered call from a woman in desperate need. The woman is Margot (Adèle Exarchopoulos), an actor who is pregnant with the child of her married co-star.

Before long, Sybil is not only treating Margot, but working on the set of her latest film (directed by her baby daddy’s wife!), and crossing about six dozen ethical lines.

How French!

SYBIL has a great many melodramatic flourishes. There’s a simmering volcano, a long, seductive musical number, a room-trashing temper tantrum, and a person who literally jumps ship in the middle of a project. The trouble is that it doesn’t entirely commit to the bit. It goes long stretches of trying to play things straight, which continually feels like being yanked to the surface when we’re having so much fun exploring the depths.

That’s a pity, since when this film does let us explore the depths, the results are delightful. The core conflict of a love quadrangle between a director, two stars, and an on-set therapist could be a film within itself, with Sandra Hüller getting the meatiest parts as a woman who has to balance her emotional responses with her professional responsibilities. Hell, that could be a movie within itself! This is where SYBIL has the most fun: where it is its grandest, sexiest, craziest self. You know those people who act one way on vacation and another way in their day-to-day life? That’s SYBIL.

SYBIL often uses a device of skipping around in time – contrasting Sybil’s current life with moments and memories that brought her to this stage. It wants to mimic the process of therapy, and underline current feelings with experiences that led the characters to this point. It often doesn’t work, since it usually muddies more than it makes clear.

SYBIL is a quest for direction – an age-old question of “what should I do?”. It’s a cautionary tale against chasing pleasures, and a romp in the playground for every actor involved. It often says more with its eyes than it does with its lips, all while being incredibly handsome, sexy, and passionate.

The trouble seems to come when SYBIL cannot answer the question at its core – when it doesn’t know what it should do.