We know Gaël Lépingle's taste for the provinces and its medium-sized towns. A precise, insistent taste, often generous to its inhabitants in search of adventure, from one film to the next, from Julien (FID 2010) to Seuls les pirates (FID 2018). The provinces are observed here through the prism of the trajectories of boys who like boys, which Gaël Lépingle traces in three stories in as many places, three moments of life and choices. For each, he sketches with fine touches the ways of living homosexuality where it is possible, or sometimes unimaginable; far from drama, while clichés on the subject abound. In the opening, a young man seems to dream of something other than the business he is about to take over and the married life that goes with it, attracted by the life he imagines to be piquant for a queer vaudeville troupe touring his village; follows the wanderings of a teenager, the improbable experience of his slender silhouette in the streets of his village; finally, it is the fetishistic passion of an honorable teacher sent back to his renunciations. Painting these three pictures that end up becoming a fresco, Gaël Lépingle becomes a cartographer of the spaces of desire, in landscapes without quality or roughness, if not their desolate flatness and the lives it announces. So many trajectories, so many decisions to make for these provincial boys. Lépingle delicately draws its dead ends or openings, lingers on the in-between: between words and bodies, between desire and dull life, between bodies and landscapes, in search of the right distance between beings. With cross-dressing and its possibilities like a secret formula that would connect them.