Rendez-Vous ’26: Alpha

Did we learn anything from Covid? Probably not. We had 100 years to study the Spanish Flu and yet our public health authorities had absolutely no lessons to apply. Not surprisingly then, this futuristic outbreak is going just as poorly as its predecessors. In this case, the disease causes blatantly noticeable signs of marbling and calcification on victims’ bodies. You don’t want to get it and the titular teen doesn’t necessarily have it, but her classmates shun her anyway in Julia Ducournau’s Alpha¸ which screened during the 2026 Rendez-Vous with French Cinema, ahead of its theatrical release later in the month.

Alpha’s doctor mom is so overworked, she doesn’t even have a proper name. She is simply known as Maman. As if the porcelain pandemic were not enough for her to deal with, she now must worry about her daughter Alpha possibly contracting it. When the 13-ish teen passed out at party, some unknown party carved a home-maid “A” tattoo into her arm, which quickly developed an infection. Of course, everyone is more concerned Alpha might have also contracted the virus.

To pile even more on “Maman,” she must also care for her younger, drug-addicted brother Amin, who is exhibiting symptoms well beyond withdrawal. Rather ominously, Alpha also starts presenting similar symptoms. That is a lot for Maman to manage, but both of her immature charges do their best to make things as difficult and stressful as possible for her.

As a film, Alpha is a lot, but if it had been any less, its impact probably would have been exponentially diminished.  After six years of pandemic allegories, Ducournau doesn’t really have much new to say, but Golshifteh Farahani’s boldly visceral performance as Maman still demands our time and attention. It is an incredible performance that expresses about a thousand different shades of fear, frustration, resentment, desperation, and utter, absolute exhaustion. Farahani is one of the best thesps working in film today, so lets hope and pray she can soon return to her native Iran—and outlive the oppressive Islamist regime that forced her into exile.

Rendez-Vous ’26: Maigret and the Dead Lover

This year marks the ninety-fifth birthday of Georges Simenon’s famous French sleuth, Inspector Jules Maigret, who was born middle-aged and nursed on beer and apple brandy. PBS’s new, younger Maigret was pretty good, but he wasn’t really Maigret. This is the Maigret you know and probably love. Mrs. Maigret definitely loves him too, so he really doesn’t give a toss about anyone else. However, he is a professional, so he diligently works to solve his latest case, just like always, in Pascal Bonitzer’s Maigret and the Dead Lover, adapted from Simenon’s less diplomatic-sounding Maigret and the Old People, which screens again during the 2026 Rendez-Vous with French Cinema.

Even though Maigret drinks like a fish, he has a reputation for discretion, so he is assigned the potentially politically sensitive case of retired ambassador mysteriously shot multiple times by an unknown person or persons. Despite his calm, workmanlike investigative approach, Maigret’s patience will be sorely tested by his sole witness, Jacqueline “Jacotte” Larrieu, who is stone-deaf without her hearing aids. She also seems to think it is her duty to the foreign ministry to be as unforthcoming as possible.

Regardless, Maigret soon discovers the ambassador and the Princess Isi de Vuynes openly carried romantic torches for each other, despite her marriage of duty to another blue blood. Both families knew of their true love, but the not quite lovers always accepted their duties and their fate. Hence, they waited to reunite until her aristocratic husband might die, which ever so coincidentally happened a week prior.

Maigret is a tricky role to cast, because he is the polar opposite of flashy. What distinguishes the Inspector is his world-weary fatalism and his understated mordant wit. Frankly, Charles Laughton was probably too flamboyant in The Man of the Eiffel Tower, even though he was jolly entertaining to watch. Jean Gabin, Harry Baur, and Rupert Davies were all much closer to Simenon’s Maigret.

Denis Podalydes truly makes a pitch perfect Maigret, gliding through the film with a general spirit of disappointment, but never surprise. He also shares some charming chemistry with the great Irene Jacob. We instantly get all their intimate years spent together and all the bottles of wine they polished off in each other’s company.

Rendez-Vous ’26: The Money Maker

One of Czeslaw Jan Bojarski’s forged 1,000 Franc notes sold at auction for 7,000 Euros in 2015. That means it held its value better than the currency Bojarski was counterfeiting. The press dubbed him the “Cezanne of counterfeit money,” but he remained relatively unknown, both inside and outside France, until the domestic release of Jean-Paul Salome’s The Money Maker (a.k.a. the Bojarski Affair), which screens again during the 2026 Rendez-Vous with French Cinema.

Bojarski didn’t exactly chose to live in France. The Polish Home Army veteran eventually landed there after the Nazis and Communists divided up his homeland. To survive, he forged identity papers. Yet, ironically, he remained “undocumented” for the first ten years after the war. Consequently, he was unable to find employment as an engineer. However, his old black-market boss had a job for him.

Frankly, Bojarski never really liked him, so he doesn’t really mind when Commissioner Andre Mattei’s bust turns him into a freelance counterfeiter. Instead of bloody shootouts to hijack paper enroute to the mint (as seen in the prologue), Bojarski devises a way to make his own, repurposing cigarette papers. However, hiding his real business from his French wife Suzanne will be the tricky part—especially when his conspicuous deception puts stress on their marriage.

The Money Maker might be screening at film festivals, but it is also a movie, in that it serves up an accessible and suspenseful crime story. It has the hubris of high tragedy and the bullet spray of gangster movies. Reportedly, Jean-Pierre Melville was an influence on Salome’s approach, which definitely computes. Yet, what most drives the film is the terrific chemistry shared by Reda Kateb (whom jazz fans will recognize for portraying Django Reinhardt) and Sara Giraudeau, as the Bojarskis. It is a rather appealing romance—that he endangers through his compulsive risk-taking.

Rendez-Vous ’26: The Stranger

Albert Camus never revealed his first name, but the character known simply as Meursault introduced generations of high school students to the concept of existentialism. If you haven’t read The Stranger, then you shame your school district. By its nature, Camus’s novel has bedeviled attempted film adaptations, but Francois Ozon finally embraces its philosophical and psychological essence (at least until he suddenly doesn’t) in The Stranger, which was the opening night film of the 2026 Rendez-Vous with French Cinema.

Meursault’s mother recently died, but it hardly seems to phase him. The French-Algerian settler’s lack of apparent grief is most definitely noticed by the residents of her retirement home—and they will remember it later. Returning to Algiers as if nothing had happened, Meursault spends a day at the beach, where h rekindles a relationship with Marie Cardona, a former co-worker. She clearly considers him a potential future husband, but for Meursault, it is clearly just sex to break up his boredom.

Similarly, Meursault “befriends,” or rather passes the time with his thuggish neighbor Raymond Sintes, because his abusive behavior towards his Arab Algerian lover means nothing to the younger man. However, the vendetta launched by the battered woman’s brother will eventually precipitate a moment of feverish violence that forever changes Meursault’s fate.

So, yes, this is The Stranger. Plus, Ozon incorporates the narrative of Camus’s The Misunderstanding, which Meursault reads in an old newspaper and philosophically expounds upon when Cardona visits him in prison. Yet, whether Camus would approve of Meursault’s interpretation is highly debatable.

Indeed, Ozon suddenly loses the plot during the third act, while Meursault awaits a ruling on his appeal. Meursault is supposed to exist outside conventional emotions and social niceties. (Indeed, the novel’s title has sometimes been translated as The Outsider.) He truly lacks the ability to forge human connections and feels no inclination to fake it. There is something unknowable about Meursault. He is simply different (and perversely, perhaps more honest) than the rest of us.

At least that is Camus’s Meursault. In a radical departure from the novel, Ozon suggests late in the eleventh hour that Meursault’s extreme existential aloofness was largely a function of early life trauma. Just like that, the unknowable becomes easy to grasp—arguable even trite and cliched. The “Stranger” is back in the human fold, which irreparable softens the film’s impact, making it all safely digestible.

It is a shame, because Ozon’s The Stranger could have potentially ranked as the greatest Camus film produced to date. The bracing early discipline, from both Ozon and lead actor Bejamin Voisin, is boldly true to Camus’s vision. Manuel Dacosse’s stark black-and-white cinematography also perfectly suits the story, like a sunny film noir. Truly, every shot was painstakingly composed by Ozon—so much so, true cineastes will find themselves marveling at the film’s austere beauty.

Voisin is also perfectly cast as Meursault. Despite his high-profile work in Apple TV+’s Careme, he is largely an unknown quantity in the United States and therefore carries no baggage into the film (unlike Marcello Mastroianni in Visconti’s 1967 adaptation). Again, “discipline” is a word that aptly applies to his performance, as well as “brooding intensity.”