I'm a sucker for "freeform"-feeling narratives and good stories of cultural identity called into question, so this was right up my alley for more than one reason. But I'm still absolutely stunned by how good the acting is here—all three leads give performances that call for large, grandiose, and comic moments—especially Tom Mercier—but they're all constantly playing off one another and the chemistry is on full display. It really is one of the best-acted movies I've seen in quite some time, and if you need to be sold, watch Quentin Dolmaire in the headphones scene toward the beginning of the film.
I try to maintain a positive presence on here and I'll likely delete this later, but not only is this cinema of misery at its most vile, it's completely devoid of rhythm and any formal worth—just the usual bells, whistles, and meaningless long takes that we've been duped into seeing as "bold" choices—to the point where well-made is an overly generous term, even in its most softball usage.
With risk of sound puritanical, how can something with so much hate…