Ventoux is a 2015 Dutch drama film directed by Nicole van Kilsdonk, based on the acclaimed novel by Bert Wagendorp. The film is a reflective and emotionally layered story about friendship, youth, and the passage of time — a journey that blends nostalgia, regret, and the lingering power of secrets.

The story begins when four middle-aged friends — Bart, Joost, André, and David — decide to reunite for a bike trip up Mont Ventoux, a legendary mountain in southern France known to cyclists as one of the most grueling climbs in the Tour de France. Decades earlier, the same group had made the same ride as idealistic young men, full of energy, ambition, and reckless freedom. Now, years later, they return to the mountain not only to relive a shared adventure, but also to confront what has remained unspoken between them.

The film alternates between past and present, showing their youthful exuberance alongside their adult disillusionment. In the past, they were inseparable — bound by humor, competition, and dreams of greatness. Yet beneath the laughter lay tension, envy, and the tragic shadow of something that happened long ago, something that changed them all. In the present, as they climb again, memories resurface, old wounds reopen, and buried truths finally come to light.

At the center of these intertwined timelines is Laura, a charismatic and mysterious woman who once connected the group and whose presence continues to haunt them. She represents both desire and loss — the symbol of a youth they cannot reclaim and of the choices that shaped their lives. Her memory follows them like a ghost up the mountain, where the past and present converge.

The mountain itself — Mont Ventoux — becomes a character in its own right: beautiful, cruel, and symbolic. Its climb mirrors the emotional and psychological ascent of the men. Every turn of the road forces them to confront not only physical exhaustion but also the weight of their memories, their regrets, and their own mortality.

Director Nicole van Kilsdonk balances nostalgia with realism. The film’s tone is intimate and melancholic, capturing the bittersweet truth that friendship, like life, is rarely simple. The cinematography, with its sweeping shots of the French countryside and the harsh beauty of the mountain, contrasts with the quiet introspection of the characters’ faces, revealing the emotional terrain they must cross.

The performances are natural and deeply felt, giving the impression of real men who have lived and lost together. Each character represents a different way of coping with aging — denial, regret, humor, or reflection — yet all are united by a longing for the intensity of their youth. Their banter and arguments feel authentic, filled with the tenderness and irritation that only lifelong friends can share.

Thematically, Ventoux explores memory, masculinity, friendship, and reconciliation. It asks what it means to grow older while still haunted by the person you used to be. Can one ever escape the past? Or does it climb beside us, silent and unrelenting, like the mountain itself?

By the film’s end, the ride up Ventoux becomes both a literal and emotional act of redemption. Through pain, laughter, and truth, the men rediscover not just their friendship, but also a sense of acceptance — of who they were and who they have become.