Adèle Exarchopoulos, the alluring French actress best known for 2013’s Blue is the Warmest Color, has an obvious beauty to her. But it’s her beguiling aura that communicates something more complex underneath that makes her transfixing to watch onscreen.

Exarchopoulos stars in The Five Devils (Les Cinqe Diables), a new witchy thriller that aims to unsettle by unearthing the unspoken parts of people’s past lives. To level-set: it’s a film in which no actual devils pop up; but rather, symbolic ones. This might disappoint those looking for more of a demonic occultist bloodbath horror along the lines of Hereditary.

Instead, director Lea Mysis’s film is something more akin to a romantic drama with supernatural elements (oh, and time travel). The Five Devils is a uniquely observed, surprisingly tender, and thought-provoking film. It explores past loves, desires, and how repressed feelings can quite literally come back to haunt us.

The film opens with a raging, blazing inferno, with screams far off in the distance. It’s unclear why a few young women in sparkly unitards gather around it consoling each other. Among them is Joanne (Exarchopoulos) who in the present day, now works at a community pool. She follows this by plunging into an icy cold lake. The film’s immediate focus on fire and water emphasizes the characters’ connection to natural elements, as well as the dualities that link them together.

The elements are literally alluring to Joanne’s young adolescent daughter, Vicky (Sally Dramé). With her quiet, but all-knowing vibes, Vicky busies herself by jarring and labeling various scraps of earth, making them into an odd personal collection. That alone might be just an innocent eccentricity but it’s when Vicky reveals to Joanne one day just how powerful her sense of smell is (Joanne actively tries to hide from Vicky during a playful game of hide and seek, but fails) that she reveals something uniquely special about herself.

This slight disturbance convenes with the even more distressing news that Joanne’s husband, Jimmy (Moustapha Mbengue), shares: he’s invited his sister, Julia (Swala Emati), to stay with them for a few days. We’re left as confused as Vicky to see why this angers Joanne so deeply. Drawn to her newly arrived, mysterious aunt–and continuing to jar her interests–Vicky mixes them all together, and inadvertently creates a youngster’s version of a cauldron, which sends her back in time.

Vicky sees her mother at seventeen years old, as well as her father. They’re accompanied by another friend, Nadine (Daphné Patakias), as well as Julia, all palling around to various degrees of physical affection. They’re all close, but noticeably, it’s Joanna and Julia whose chemistry burns hottest. Vicky moves throughout them like a ghost. Until she gets to Julia, who screams upon locking eyes with her: Julia is the only one who sees her like a ghost walking among them.

It’s here where The Five Devils is most engrossing. Vicky continues to dive back into the past to see more of her mother and aunt’s special friendship. A queer relationship–let alone a bi-racial one–was not something that was publicly approved of, clearly. We also see Joanne and Julia’s real-time reconnection happen, too. Clearly, there are flames that still flicker with each other.

Written by Léa Mysius and Paul Guilhaume, The Five Devils is an inventive supernatural thriller but it’s a more intimate romance than I was expecting. The film is more interesting, and more successful when exploring the forbidden relationships and lost loves that plague these characters. Also, don’t forget about their fourth friend Nadine, who was noticeably affectionate towards Jimmy.

At this point, you might wonder: what, or who are The Five Devils? Well, it’d have to be the four young friends, who (spoiler alert) all end up without their true love. And the fifth? I could only deduce that it was the daughter, Vicky. A child born out of false love, she is uniquely able to bring them all toward their rightful lovers.

The Five Devils might not be a new cult classic. But it’s fairly intoxicating and stylishly hypnotic in ways that I haven’t seen in queer witchy thrillers in recent times.

1h 43m.