La France, 1967 A.D. Gauloises a-glowin’, sideburns a-plenty, teen punks in leather jackets—and the sheltered convent schoolgirl Françoise smack-dab in this cultural vortex. Her crystal pendulum has prophesied that she will die before the next sunrise. So she and her best friend make a run for it to spend her (supposed) last night at a costume party in an abandoned villa in the middle of the woods. Romain de Saint-Blanquat’s beautiful, hyper-sensuous feature debut conjures the somnambulant cinematic fantasies of the likes of Jean Rollin, painting the portrait of a young woman caught between adolescent rage and gothic thanatomania.