Julia Ducournau, the filmmaker who stunned audiences withRawandTitane, returns withAlpha, a film that ventures into deeply unsettling and emotionally resonant territory. This isn’t simply a return to the screen; it’s a bold leap into a narrative landscape defined by fear, transformation, and the weight of inherited trauma.
The story unfolds in a hauntingly familiar, yet subtly altered, 1980s and 90s. Thirteen-year-old Alpha, played with captivating intensity, unknowingly enters a world of danger at a seemingly innocent party. A shared needle during a tattoo session exposes her to a terrifying bloodborne disease – one that slowly, agonizingly, turns its victims to marble.
Her mother, a doctor haunted by the fate of her own brother, watches with mounting dread. Amin, Alpha’s uncle, is already succumbing to the disease, a charismatic but volatile figure whose presence casts a long shadow over their lives. The film doesn’t shy away from the brutal reality of addiction and the desperate struggle for control.
Tahar Rahim, who embodies Amin with a raw vulnerability, describes an immediate and profound connection with Ducournau. “It felt as if we’d known each other for years,” he shared, a testament to the director’s ability to forge deep artistic partnerships. Ducournau herself considers Rahim “one of the best actors of his generation,” recognizing a shared commitment to fearless exploration.
Rahim’s preparation for the role was physically and emotionally demanding. He lost over 40 pounds, immersing himself in the world of addiction through volunteering at treatment centers and witnessing the harsh realities on the streets. But the transformation went far beyond the physical, spiraling into a disturbing psychological space.
“It became more of a character matter, almost a spiritual matter,” Rahim confessed, describing a dangerous pull towards the abyss. He found himself grappling with body dysmorphia, unable to perceive the extent of his physical change, a chilling echo of the disease consuming his character. Ducournau recalls his constant questioning: “But can you tell?” – a desperate plea for validation of his commitment.
Ducournau deliberately cast an adult actress, Mélissa Boros, as the teenage Alpha. She sought someone who could embody the awkwardness and volatility of adolescence, while navigating the film’s complex and often unsettling themes. Boros, a former athlete, brought a unique physicality and vulnerability to the role, convincingly portraying a girl on the cusp of transformation.
While some have drawn parallels betweenAlphaand the AIDS epidemic, Ducournau resists a literal interpretation. “The disease I want to talk about within the film is fear,” she explains, “and how it’s transmitted to further generations once a trauma hasn’t been resolved.” The film explores the societal stigma and ostracization that accompany illness, reflecting the anxieties of a generation shaped by a devastating crisis.
Ducournau bristles at the label of “body horror,” a categorization often applied to her previous work. She views her films as intensely personal dramas, exploring the vulnerabilities and anxieties that lie beneath the surface of the human experience. “I embrace no labels whatsoever,” she asserts, preferring to create “hybrids” that defy easy categorization.
Alphapremiered at the Cannes Film Festival to a divided reception, with some critics dismissing it as bewildering while others praised its emotional depth and imaginative power. Ducournau welcomes the polarization, viewing it as a sign that her work is challenging and provoking thought. “I’m here to shake up the dialogue,” she states firmly, “to raise questions, I’m not here to give answers.”
For Ducournau, the most rewarding art is that which lingers in the mind, demanding repeated engagement. She seeks to create films that, like the most powerful works of art, reveal new layers of meaning with each viewing, prompting audiences to confront uncomfortable truths and grapple with the complexities of the human condition.
