Grief takes Protestant academic Camille to the laundrette, where circus performer Petra supplies tissues, sympathy and a sly switcheroo on the holdalls containing their respective smalls. The meeting-cute hurdle negotiated, the story proceeds to run a relatively fresh spin on ye old eternal threesome. The man in Camille's life is Martin, fellow lecturer at the College of New Faith, but how can the call of duty compete with this new woman winkling out the new woman in her. After all, tweed jackets and keynote speeches can't compete with tight black leather, arrows of desire fired through your window, and an epochal hang-gliding trip. No, it's not much of a contest, but Rozema provides ample pleasures to compensate for the lack of surprise, not the least of which is a warm sensuality that never feels exploitative, plus the good heart to make Czerny's boyfriend a decent stick and even to have the stern college principal question his own homophobia. While the surrounding Sirkus of Sorts frippery is endearing without being pushy, and Lesley Barber's terrific score provides emotional thrust, the key to the film's mercurial charm is the performances of the two leads: Bussières ranging engagingly from prim to perky, and Crawford a bewitching presence as the impish seductress. Cynics may demur, but the result is quite delicious.