A film involving rebellion by tree climbing, incestuous insinuations and strained relationships may not be to everyone’s taste; but you have to hand it to adventurous British director Andrew Kotting – this is intriguing and ambitious subject matter that will challenge and engage audiences across the country.

The plot goes thusly: the Ivul family are of Russian origins, but live in France, near the Pyrenees, in a large country house. The matriarch and patriarch preside over a happy family of four children, teenagers Alex and Freya, and young twins Manon and Capucine, aided by oddball butler Lek (who can’t really speak).

However, their idyll is close to being fractured forever as Freya is soon to head to Russia to study, and be closer to the family heritage. This upsets Alex, with whom she is very close, and in one last moment of youthful exuberance the pair get a little carried away. The awkward moment is witnessed by their father who is, understandably, angry and freaked out. As he screams at Alex to get out of his house, Alex is equally resolute that he will not only do so, but will never return again. In fact, not content with abandoning the family home, Alex proclaims that he will never set foot on the ground again.

And so begins a strange examination of family trauma and separation. Alex’s personal story is brought to life wonderfully by unknown treeclimber Jacob Auzanneau, and framed in some beautifully detached camerawork. Meanwhile the fractured remnants of the family are trapped inside the house as their world collapses inward upon them, an experience conveyed with great power by veteran actor Jean-Luc Bidul.

The best thing about Ivul though is the playful elements of formalism which Kotting injects into the story. One scene plays itself backwards as the unravelling of events is about to begin, others are bookended with extreme close-ups of microbes, or archive footage of old mother Russia to add a sense of history to proceedings. Sometimes these pieces of imagery detract from the whole feel, seeming oddly comedic in their context, but for the most part they are a welcome, and indeed unique, addition to the film.

It’s a film that will certainly please audiences seeking some ponderous art cinema to stroke their beards over, or indeed chat about over coffee. It’s also a film that leaves a lingering impression, and a cluster of ideas to dissect and discuss at your leisure. Well worth a watch if that’s your cup of tea.