‘That’s a story for me,’ said Akerman of Marcel Proust’s The Prisoner, when she remembered ‘there was that apartment, and the corridor, and the two characters’. This languorous, beguiling adaptation – where, again, Akerman resets our sense of time – probes possessive love. A wealthy young man obsesses over his girlfriend. But who is the captor asks Akerman, who considered a person could be a cage as much as a room.