Gia Green's languid poolside lounging at her country home is interrupted by a pissy phone message from a man angry from being ghosted. "I am sorry. It's unfair, and you deserve better," she says, before remembering erotic moments with the man, leading her to finger herself at the memory. Nobody else is here, there's a vibe in the bag over there, go for it. Her poolside solo is interrupted by the arrival of rental houseguests Bunnie Bennett and Sylvan, carrying luggage. Green, embarrassed, dives into the pool, emerging nude and apologetically wrapping a towel around herself. Their "We thought we'd have the house to ourselves" leads Green to respond, "I'll be in an apartment over there. You won’t even know I'm here."

That night by the pool, Green sends a sexy "Miss you" pic to an admirer as Bennett and Sylvan hook up in the house. The next day, Green joins Bennett and Sylvan for poolside margaritas, followed by an invitation to dinner. Green says, "It's on me," and they dine on the patio at sunset. Charcuterie, wine, oysters. Sylvan admits they have an open relationship, but they overdid it recently and wanted to get away, just the two of them. As the wine continues to flow, we learn that Bennett is a journalist, and Sylvan a history teacher. When Sylvan tells a story about going down on Bennett in a public place ("I told her if you make one sound, I'll stop") all three get turned on, and Green asks Sylvan, "May I?" leading to an unhurried passionate scene. 

"It was like utopia," Green narrates over shots of the three playfully dancing and playing catch by the pool. "We were becoming one organism, one love. Forgetting about the world outside the house, forgetting about the past. Nothing else mattered but the moment we were living, together." When Sylvan asks Green, "Are you seeing anyone?" Green deadpans back "Yes ... and they're paying me rent!" but a moment later she shows a picture on her phone: "I was seeing her. This house was her place. It's where we had our best memories ... she left it to me after she died. I still send messages to her." Their expressions of sympathy elicit, "It's not one of those things that turned me into a sarcastic bitch ... I've always been this way." The moment of reflection is interrupted by a panicked call from Bennett's office—she lost track of what day it was—and she dresses and heads into town.

With Bennett gone, Green pouts to Sylvan, "I forgot we have a life outside this house. I guess this holiday will be over soon." Sylvan responds, "I really don't want it to be." While they tentatively approach each other ("We should wait till she gets back" "She can join us later") Bennett pulls over to the side of the road and confronts her boss on the phone: "I'm on holiday. Is this about journalism or you wanting to control me? I'll be back in a few days. Find someone else to burn out." And she turns the car around, arriving just in time to catch Green and Sylvan in mid-fuck. When Bennett and Sylvain retreat to the pool to discuss matters, Green tries to join them, and is turned away with a brusque, "This is between us." Green responds, "Shouldn’t I be a part of this conversation? Am I just a fuck buddy?" No response. "Great. Then it's time for you to leave my house." They pack, and leave wordlessly as Green watches them from her garden.

At her office, Green—a choreographer—says, "I'm more creative when I'm heartbroken," busting a move or two as her assistant tells Green she was a unicorn, a diversion before they went back to their lives. That night, Green flashes back to a romantic candlelit tryst with the girlfriend (Charlie Benedetti) before realizing, "I was their unicorn. How stupid of me thinking it was real." But all is not well with Bennett and Sylvan, as an earnest-but-untranslated bathtub conversation involving the word "regret" reveals. When they return to the country house, an angry Green confronts them: "How did you get in here? This is private property!" But the anger doesn’t last.

Green is a standout performer here, handling acting and sex performing with equal aplomb. Bennett and the one-named Sylvan get less attention, but shine in their roles and in their final sex scene together. Three plays like a louche French nouvelle vague idle-rich slice-of life movie, with lengthy untranslated sequences and casual sex (here explicit instead of implied) and more than a little irrelevant meandering, but it pays off. Kudos to the performers, director Erika Lust, scenarist M. Mercedes, and director of photography Thais Catalá for the rich, deep, moody low-light colors. Recommended. Emphatically.