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Humanist Vampire Seeking Consenting Suicidal Person poster

Humanist Vampire Seeking Consenting Suicidal Person

2023 · Ariane Louis-Seize

For a night when you want something sweet and strange at the same time — a love story with fangs that comforts more than it bites. Perfect when standard rom-coms feel too sugary but you still want to feel your heart move.

What it's about

Sasha is a teenage vampire in Montreal with a fatal flaw: she's too empathetic to bite anyone. When her fed-up parents cut off her blood supply to force her hand, she crosses paths with Paul, a bullied kid who's stopped wanting to live — and who offers her a deal that solves both their problems. First, though, he has last wishes, and they have until sunrise.

The experience

Deadpan and gentle at once — a comedy about death that keeps making you smile through the ache. It moves at the unhurried pace of a long night out, wry on the surface, quietly devastating underneath, and it ends up being far more romantic than its morbid setup suggests.

Performances

Sara Montpetit plays Sasha with a wide-eyed, mournful stillness that makes the absurd premise feel completely sincere — she gets laughs and heartbreak out of simply refusing to blink.

The craft

Ariane Louis-Seize's debut commits totally to its tone: every joke delivered straight-faced, the vampire mythology worn lightly, Montreal at night rendered in warm pools of neon and lamplight. The writing pulls off the hardest trick in comedy — treating suicide and hunger seriously while staying genuinely funny — and the nocturnal look rewards watching with the lights off.

Why it matters

A prize-winner at Venice's Giornate degli Autori that announced Louis-Seize as a major new voice, and one of the films that proved the vampire movie still had somewhere tender left to go.

Reception & legacy: how Humanist Vampire Seeking Consenting Suicidal Person was received, argued over, and remembered →

Ariane Louis-Seize's feature debut, which took the top prize in Venice's Giornate degli Autori sidebar, does exactly what its deadpan title promises: a matchmaking of two problems. Sasha is a teenage vampire whose fangs refuse to descend because she feels too much for her food; Paul is a bullied boy who has stopped wanting to live. Their arrangement — his life for hers, but first a night of last wishes — becomes one of the tenderest screen romances of its decade, played entirely straight-faced. The film sits squarely in Québécois cinema's gift for droll melancholy, closer in spirit to Kaurismäki than to any Hollywood vampire property, and it quietly repurposes the genre as a study of adolescent depression, consent, and inherited family expectation without ever announcing the metaphor. Sara Montpetit, pale and saucer-eyed, gives Sasha the gravity of a silent-film heroine; the suburban Montreal nights are shot in deep autumnal blues and neon smears, scored to vintage torch songs. Louis-Seize honed the tone across a decade of shorts, and it shows: not a single scene raises its voice.

Lines of influence