I watched Peppermint, a Greek Coming-of-Age film from 1999, mostly because of the young actor playing Stefanos — Giorgos Gerontidakis. His performance as the 11-year-old Stefanos Karouzos earned him several awards and critical acclaim. He’s expressive, charming, and carries the childhood story beautifully, giving the film much of its emotional weight.
The movie opens in the present, with Stefanos as a middle-aged man receiving a phone call that pulls him back into memories of his youth. The opening is quiet and observational — nothing grabs you immediately — but once it shifts into his past, the film comes alive. This reflective, observational style is characteristic of Greek cinema of the late ’90s. Directors like Costas Kapakas focused on everyday life, subtle humor, and small gestures that define human experience, rather than flashy cinematography or dramatic spectacle.
The childhood sequences are the film’s heart. Early on, Stefanos, at around five years old, experiences moments of pure imagination. A memorable scene has a crow chasing him through the house, capturing the boundless creativity and fear of early childhood. Later, as he grows a bit older, around ten or eleven, we see classic Coming-of-Age moments: trying to shave before he really needs to — funny for viewers, naive for him — hiding an adult magazine, and school moments like algebra numbers turning into Chinese symbols in his mind.
Here, the humor is for the audience, not Stefanos himself, highlighting the film’s subtle observational comedy. Giorgos Gerontidakis portrays this older childhood Stefanos wonderfully, his charm and expressiveness earning him awards and critical recognition.
A striking detail is the visual parallel between young Stefanos’ play with planes and his adult self as an engineer or mechanic. The film quietly links imagination and career, showing how childhood interests can echo into adulthood.
Then there’s his relationship with his cousin Maria. As children, it’s innocent curiosity — spying on adults, stealing kisses, learning about affection. As they grow into their teens, the bond continues, and even in adulthood it’s remembered with tenderness. The adult Stefanos reflects on these early feelings without judgment, giving the film a gentle, honest tone.
Trailer
The adult sequences themselves are quieter and less immediate, but meaningful. They show how the past shapes the present and how formative experiences linger. Personally, I found the adult sections less engaging than the childhood sequences, but the connections between past and present still add depth.
Visually, the film favors steady, observational camera work, again consistent with late ’90s Greek cinema. The music often comes from sources within the scene, like old radios the characters are actually listening to, which adds to the nostalgic feel — though occasionally it misses the mark. Overall, the cinematography and soundtrack serve the story rather than overpower it.
Who is this film for? Younger viewers might find it slow, but for anyone who enjoys Coming-of-Age stories — especially reflective, memory-driven Greek films — there’s much to appreciate. The subtle humor, everyday life details, childhood imagination, and Giorgos Gerontidakis’ performance make it quietly rewarding. Personally, I found it evocative and nostalgic, even if it didn’t grip me from start to finish.
Peppermint isn’t for everyone, and it knows it. But if you let it, this modest Greek memory-piece will sneak up and leave a faint, lasting taste of childhood summers on your tongue.
