Alternately traumatic and sensual memories from that period keep intruding on 40ish Sibyl’s otherwise mended life, like rude mental glitches. Perhaps that’s partly why she hits the brakes on her day job, dropping multiple damaged clients so she can spend more time working on her first novel - only for the blinking cursor on her blank-screened laptop to glare back at her like an admonishment. In need of distraction, she changes her mind and takes on a new, intriguing client: young, fragile actress Margot, who’s mired in a hellish love triangle with Igor, the dreamy, preening leading man on her latest film, and Mika, her jealous, demanding female director. Pregnant with Igor’s unwanted child, Margot doesn’t want Sibyl to analyse her so much as take charge of her collapsing life. That’s an overstep that the dubiously good psychotherapist, who at last finds writing inspiration in the ingenue’s real-life melodrama, is all too willing to take, even jetting to Stromboli to coach her client.
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