The word of the title is not used at any time in this film, but the relevance is clear. On the western front in the first world war, Belgian soldiers get permission to form a theatrical troupe, often in drag, to entertain their comrades when they are behind the lines and raise their morale (not entirely unlike the now despised 70s BBC TV comedy It Ain’t Half Hot Mum). The director is Lukas Dhont who explored gay and transgender issues in movies such as Girl and Close, and this story of a gay affair in the army is heartfelt and well acted, if rather earnestly researched.

The motley “band of rejects”, evidently excused frontline combat duty for various reasons, is led by Francis (Valentin Campagne), a tailor in civilian life who has now ecstatically flowered in the new role the war has given him. He is exuberant, mischievous, imaginative and genuinely committed to his theatrical art. The resulting entertainments look professionally accomplished. (Did these first world war gang shows really have people playing flute and clarinet?) One stolidly handsome, shy soldier called Pierre (Emmanuel Macchia) is fascinated by these theatrical types and by Francis himself; he deliberately stabs his own hand with a bayonet on the field of battle so he can join their group.

All these actors must endure covert or open accusations of cowardice. For Francis and Pierre, the charge becomes more complicated. At the height of their love affair, they wonder if they should desert, run away together to a neutral country like Switzerland or Spain, and openly affirm who they are. But are they too cowardly? Interestingly, it isn’t just a matter of the troupe providing racy, louche shows for the ranks. Francis and the players have to put on a more intimate after-dinner revue for high-ranking types and endure their boorish behaviour; they also have to produce little entertainments, like children’s shows, for the horribly wounded in hospitals, and even mount stirringly martial, patriotic vignettes for soldiers who are about to go into battle.

Francis himself is a fierce disciplinarian, as tough as any sergeant, who will not stand for Pierre or anyone else neglecting their showbusiness duty to provide escapism for the troops. Francis is candid about how much he loves his theatricals, even loves the war itself. “We are free here,” he tells Pierre; they are free to express themselves artistically and, indeed, romantically and erotically. The war has given them a chance to be who they actually are. Like life and love, the war itself may be all too brief. It is quite a paradox.

There is much that is valuable and interesting in this movie, although it is a little predictable in what it has to say and how it says it, though Campagne and Macchia give committed performances as secret lovers in the shadow of war.