The Roads We Don’t Take: How ‘Summertime’ Captures the Weight of Choice

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LUMICORE V1.1 — MICRO-CORRECTIVE PROMPT “LOOK AWAY” USE AS A VARIATION / REGEN PROMPT ONLY Do not change setting, era, wardrobe, camera height, or physical proximity CORRECTIVE PROMPT Maintain the existing horizontal cinematic scene of two young women walking together along a dirt path in the French countryside in the mid-1970s. Preserve period accuracy, clothing, textures, and environment exactly as they are. Introduce emotional asymmetry and withheld intimacy through the following refinements only: Remove mutual eye contact. One woman (either) looks forward along the path, attention briefly elsewhere. The other may still glance toward her, but without holding the gaze. Soften or neutralize one expression: Replace a clear smile with a private, unreadable expression — thoughtful, inward, or momentarily distracted. Avoid visible reassurance or emotional completion. Keep their hands linked, but de-emphasize the gesture: Fingers loosely connected rather than interlaced tightly. The contact feels habitual, not symbolic. Slightly flatten the golden light: Reduce warmth and glow just enough to avoid romantic emphasis. Light remains late-day but indifferent, not affirming. Allow the camera to feel marginally more distant or observational — as if the moment is being witnessed rather than shared. Nothing in the image should signal resolution, certainty, or retrospective meaning. HARD LOCKS (NON-NEGOTIABLE) No added distance between the women No change in period styling No loss of tenderness No introduction of conflict or melancholy No symbolic gestures or poses NEGATIVE PROMPT (CRITICAL) Avoid: mutual smiling, synchronized affection, romantic eye contact, nostalgic glow, emotional symmetry, “perfect moment” framing, memory-softening warmth FINAL INTENT STATEMENT This image should feel like a moment still deciding what it is. Affection exists — but meaning has not settled yet. If the image feels like reassurance, it has failed.

Few films capture the complexity of choice as honestly as Catherine Corsini’s 2015 French film, Summertime (La Belle Saison). At its heart, the film isn’t just about love—it’s about the impossible decisions that shape our lives, about how choosing one path often means leaving another behind.

Delphine Benchiessa’s (Izïa Higelin) journey is a quiet, powerful exploration of these choices. In Paris, she falls in love with Carole (Cécile De France)—a vibrant, outspoken feminist activist who opens her world in ways she hadn’t imagined. Their relationship is electric, filled with moments of joy and freedom.

And yet, Delphine’s love for Carole isn’t untethered; it’s weighed down by the expectations of her family and the pull of the rural life and Benchiessa family farm she’s always known.

This tension is beautifully illustrated in the film’s trailer:

This is where Summertime really hit me. It doesn’t simplify Delphine’s dilemma or frame it as a simple conflict between love and duty. It’s messier than that. The film respects the complexity of her ties to her home and her mother, Monique (Noémie Lvovsky). When Delphine’s father falls ill, she returns to the farm without hesitation. She doesn’t abandon Carole, but she doesn’t abandon her family either. It’s a choice born of love and obligation, not weakness.

The countryside becomes a stage for this tension. In one scene, Delphine and her mother sit at the kitchen table, the weight of unspoken expectations pressing down on them. The farm is quiet, beautiful, but suffocating—a reminder of everything Delphine is expected to be. It’s not just her future on the farm she’s choosing; it’s her mother’s survival, her family’s legacy.

And in choosing that, she risks losing herself.

Carole, on the other hand, represents freedom. She’s fierce and fearless, a woman who knows who she is and what she wants. But even Carole can’t escape the pain of choices. Her relationship with Delphine challenges her own ideas about love and sacrifice. In one heartbreaking moment, she begs Delphine to leave the farm and come back to Paris, knowing full well that Delphine may not.

What struck me most about Summertime is that it refuses to judge its characters. Delphine’s decision to stay on the farm isn’t framed as a betrayal, and Carole’s anger isn’t painted as unreasonable. The film simply acknowledges the reality of their choices—that sometimes, love isn’t enough to overcome everything.

Life is full of these impossible decisions, where every path we take means closing the door to another. Summertime doesn’t offer easy resolutions, and that’s what makes it so powerful. Watching Delphine and Carole navigate their lives reminded me of the choices we all make, the ones that feel both inevitable and devastating.

There’s no “right” answer in Summertime. Delphine’s love for Carole is as real as her duty to her family, and the film never diminishes either. Instead, it invites us to sit with the discomfort of those choices, to reflect on the roads we’ve taken—and the ones we’ve left behind.