A beast of flesh and blood
Valeria Bruni Tedeschi, a renowned director and actor, continually draws on her personal and professional life as a wellspring of inspiration. In the film Easier for a camel (2003), she invites audiences into the intimate texture of love and daily life. In A Castle in Italy (2016) she portrays the women of her family with a candid, intimate lens, and the title Actor (2007) underscores the centrality of performance in her world. Her latest project, Amendiers, centers on the craft of acting itself, reflecting a shift in focus toward the profession while maintaining the signature introspection that marks her work. The film signals a sharper, more self-assured voice than earlier titles, suggesting a renewed sense of purpose rather than a simple restatement of past motifs.
The second film in competition for the Palme d’Or draws on Bruni Tedeschi’s youth spent at the Théâtres Amendiers in Nanterre. During the early 1980s she prepared a staging of Platonov, a Chekhov drama later directed by Patrice Chéreau. Beyond offering a portrait of a charismatic mentor, the narrative of Les amendiers interweaves melodrama with a meditation on youth. It examines themes of blind love, artistry, and the tension between aspiration and the raw forces of longing that define those years. The film uses its young cast not merely as subjects but as lenses through which the audience perceives the emotional pull and risk inherent in pursuing a career in the performing arts.
In this approach, Bruni Tedeschi emphasizes two categories of characters among the young players: those who register as clichés and those who defy easy classification. The result is a deliberate clarity about what driving a life of interpretation can demand. Performers are portrayed as intensely sensitive beings who channel their inner landscapes through art. They are portrayed as exceptionally beautiful, profoundly private, and often tormented. The film also nods to the idea that one must carry a certain arrogance to dedicate oneself to this craft, yet Bruni Tedeschi resists turning autobiographical filmmaking into a celebration of the artist’s life. The storytelling remains reflective, insisting that artistry is not a mere subject but a force shaping identity and relationships.
A beast of flesh and blood
Ali Abbasi, the Iranian director working from Copenhagen, made a striking Cannes impact four years prior with The Border (2018). That film blends a mythic undertone with a stark realism in a story about two outsiders living on the fringe of society. The new release adds another layer by weaving a narrative inspired by a real figure who darkens the lore of extremity. It follows a outspoken, morally compromised man who justifies his brutal acts as a sacred mission, challenging the audience to grapple with the line between justice and cruelty. The central tension examines how a culture can nurture monsters while also revealing their vulnerabilities and moments of doubt.
The film navigates a path through a world where brutality wears a familiar face. The protagonist is a family man who insists his actions stem from a higher calling, yet the story never shies away from the unsettling impulses that creep into acts of violence. The drama unfolds by shifting vantage points, moving from a profile of the killer to the broader social climate that allows such acts to be masked. The portrayal of women in the narrative is particularly stark, highlighting harassment, insult, and threat, while exposing how institutional and communal responses can complicate attempts to seek justice. The film paints a portrait of a society that can both condemn and excuse cruelty, inviting viewers to question where responsibility truly lies. This is not a distant indictment; it is a mirror held up to contemporary concerns about gendered violence and the gaps in protection and accountability that persist in many communities. The director has noted that this work bears a hopeful line beneath its brutal surface: a call to recognize humanity even in the presence of deeply troubling behavior. The production does not expect a swift premiere in the director’s homeland, underscoring the tension between art, morality, and public reception in today’s cinema landscape.