History has led us to expect all films made by erstwhile French critics to be bold statements for the ages, yet that gets gently subverted in this sweet divertissement from Axelle Ropert, a not-quite-romcom about yin-and-yang paediatrician brothers and the sad-seeming single mother brought into their orbit by a diabetic daughter. The raw material's there for a glossily conventional love triangle, but the angles are ever so slightly wonky: for starters, these characters are out among the concrete blocks of the périphérique, and Ropert isolates them further in single shots that add an element of Kaurismäki or Hal Hartley-like deadpan, hinting at how everybody's diverging, not converging. Attractively photographed, designed and played, it remains at all points devoted – in that very French way – to the specifics of what its characters actually do in this particular place. Not one for the ages, perhaps, but distinctive enough for a pleasant matinee.