The Stranger (L'étranger)

 

Director François Ozon

Writer/philosopher Albert Camus

THE STRANGER (L'étranger)                                  B                                                       France  (122 mi)  2025  d: François Ozon                        

Whatever I choose, it amounts to the same... absolutely nothing.                                               —Killing an Arab, by The Cure, 1978, The Cure - Killing An Arab (Live in Barcelona 1985) YouTube (2:40)

A film so overly detached that it’s hard for viewers to find an entry point, even if the 1942 Albert Camus novel is already known to us, where this is a faithful rendition, with a slight revisionist update, of what remains one of the three most widely read French books worldwide, alongside Saint-Exupéry’s Little Prince and Victor Hugo’s Les Misérables, Best French Literature (873 books), with Paris newspaper Le Monde listing it #1 of their best 100 Books of the 20th Century.  One of the cornerstones of existential philosophy, it is inherently alienating, unfathomable and provocative, yet it continues to challenge us with the ethical and metaphysical questions it provokes, with Camus (born in Algeria) winning the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1957, remaining a political voice during the Cold War, rejecting both communism and capitalism.  Only at the end, in a prison sequence, bearing some minimalist resemblance to Bresson’s Pickpocket (1959), does this elevate substantially in a positively brilliant scene between the protagonist and a priest, which recalls an even more intense prison sequence in Steve McQueen’s HUNGER (2008) between Irish nationalist Bobby Sands and a Catholic priest, which is a 20-minute uninterrupted sequence arguing over moral principles.  A frequently controversial figure of French cinema since the 1990’s, François Ozon has continued to surprise and delight with his ever-stylish, daring, and genre-defying films, from erotic thrillers to queer coming-of-age dramas, his films include UNDER THE SAND (2000), 8 WOMEN (2002), SWIMMING POOL (2003), TIME TO LEAVE (2005), ANGEL (2007), Potiche (2010), In the House (Dans La Maison) (2012), Young & Beautiful (Jeune & Jolie) (2013), The New Girlfriend (Une nouvelle amie) (2014), Frantz (2016), By the Grace of God (Grâce à Dieu) (2019), Peter von Kant (2022), The Crime Is Mine (Mon Crime) (2023), and When Fall Is Coming (Quand vient l'automne) (2024), among others.  Ozon has proven to be one of modern French cinema’s most prolific auteurs, making 25 films in nearly 30 years, so who better to tackle the novel by Camus, one of the fundamental pillars in the legacy of French literary existentialism.  Drawn to dark, mordantly psychological films that are intimate and personal, Ozon makes films that are comically odd and puzzling, yet also liberating, filled with a poignant awareness of loss and unfulfilled desire.  More often than not he writes his own screenplays, where an absurd existentialism beats at the heart of his films, but this is something else altogether since it comes from such a recognizable literary work, the first adaptation made in French, where the protagonist is condemned by society as callous, cold, and dangerous because he does not act according to their norms, becoming the titular stranger for whom there is no place in the world.  Synthesizing the meaning of his novel, Camus wrote: “In our society, any man who doesn’t cry at his mother’s funeral is liable to be condemned to death.”  Luchino Visconti filmed an earlier adaptation of the novel with a slightly older Marcello Mastroianni (the director wanted Alain Delon) and Anna Karina, which went missing for years, apparently due to rights issues, and still remains under the radar, only available through specialized imports or film retrospectives, though it is notable for its overdetermined literariness, using a stream-of-conscious voiceover and dialogue taken directly from the pages of the novel.  Turkish director Zeki Demirkubuz also filmed his own adaptation in 2001 entitled FATE (Yazgi), while Ingmar Bergman apparently wanted to do an adaptation as well, but no projects ever developed.  A copy of the book also turns up in Jacques Audiard’s 2010 Top Ten Films of the Year: #10 A Prophet ... (2009), a prison drama that reflects the grim alienation and existential choices present in the Camus work, while the British rock band Joy Division, particularly lead singer Ian Curtis, was profoundly influenced by existentialist literature, with Albert Camus serving as a key intellectual touchstone, with their music drenched in a similar philosophical, moody, and existentialist atmosphere.

Winner of Best Film, Best Actor, and Best Cinematography at the recently held Lumière Awards in Paris just a month ago honoring the best French-speaking movies, the ceremony took place appropriately enough at the Institut du Monde Arabe (Arab World Institute).  Co-written by Ozon and Philippe Piazzo, who have collaborated on his last six films, with a spare musical score by Senegal-born Kuwaiti musician Fatima Al Qadiri, who provided the music for Mati Diop’s film Atlantics (Atlantique) (2019), this is essentially a Dostoyevskian Crime and Punishment movie, set in French-colonial Algeria in 1938 (actually shot in Morocco), told in two parts, before and after the killing of an (unnamed in the book) Arab man in the stifling heat of Algiers, which comes just weeks after the funeral of the protagonist’s mother.  Meursault, Benjamin Voisin from Summer of '85 (Été 85) (2020), is a quiet, unassuming shipping clerk in his early thirties, indifferent to everything, withdrawn, barely speaking, showing little interest in anything, yet he’s an enigma who’s a tough nut to crack, opaque, indifferent, and without a moral conscience, working so well in literature, with a fresh originality, as we’re literally immersed inside his head in a first-person narrative, privy to every minute psychological detail and thought, yet in the world of cinema, he’s a dour onscreen presence, apparently unable to process emotions, remaining disconnected from viewers, who will find it difficult to relate.  The book starts with his discovery of the death of his mother, “Mother died today.  Or maybe yesterday; I can’t be sure,” while in the film it’s the unforeseen arrival of a telegram that sets the wheels in motion, “Mother deceased.  Burial tomorrow.”  Attractively shot in black and white by Belgian cinematographer Manuel Dacosse in his fifth collaboration with Ozon, it feels both stark and elegantly restrained, made with austere precision, using very few camera movements, consisting mainly of static shots, with a brief opening prison sequence acknowledging “I killed an Arab” that alludes to what follows.  The tone is set by oppressive heat, yet Meursault wears a formal jacket and tie as he takes a bus to attend his mother’s funeral out in the countryside, where he’s immediately viewed as an outsider, not known to any of the medical staff who were caring for his mother at a nearby nursing home, showing no real signs of grief or mourning.  When asked if he wishes to see her body, he declines, claiming “There’s no point,” but instead smokes and drinks coffee at the vigil held by the coffin the night before the burial, but people look at him abnormally, with his impassive gaze, yet what stands out is that he never sheds a single tear.  When it comes time to bury the body, he goes outside in the scorching sun, where the only thing that seems to affect him is the heat, which seems to be a malevolent presence, as other than that, nothing seems to matter, emphasizing again and again “Nothing is important.”  As if to clear his mind afterwards, he runs into a colleague at the local baths, Marie (Rebecca Marder), a former typist where he works, and the two go swimming together as he quickly slips back into his former routine, resulting in a casual affair, displaying a carefree interest, The Stranger new clip official from Venice Film Festival 2025 YouTube (2:03), where cooling down seems to help him relax, as later that evening they see a Marcel Pagnol comedy LE SCHPOUNTZ (1938) starring beloved French comedian Fernandel, whose wild, over-the-top antics, which generate no reaction whatsoever from Meursault, are a bit of a surprise in this otherwise downbeat film.  Of curious interest is a sign at the box office that states, in French, “Établissement interdit aux indegenes (Establishment forbidden to natives).”

Meursault lives in a drab, non-descript hotel, where one of his eccentric old neighbors down the hall is Salamano (Denis Lavant), who continually beats and torments his mangy dog before it runs away, while the sadistic Raymond Sintès (Pierre Lottin) is a big, burly man who claims he works at a warehouse, but is generally acknowledged to be a pimp, who draws Meursault into his shady dealings, yet he’s unfazed by the racist misogyny, even after Raymond beats the living hell out of his Arab mistress, Djemila (Hajar Bouzaouit), yet the police release him with just a warning, as Meursault speaks up for him, identifying him as a friend.  This speaks to the double standard that exists for whites in a dehumanizing colonial occupation that views Arabs in their own country as second class citizens without the same rights, and it angers the family of the beaten girl, whose brothers suddenly become a looming presence in their lives, like a constant threat they can’t ignore, with Raymond mentioning that they’ve been following him around recently.  Accordingly, the white characters all have names in the Camus novel, while the Arab characters do not, as they are viewed as subhuman and invisible by the French colonizers, with the two cultures living side-by-side without actually seeing the other, where even in contemporary times that pain remains raw between France and Algeria, as a heavy silence still weighs upon their shared histories.  Ozon expands the role of Djemila, giving her a more prominent voice to the often-silenced victim in the original story, and in doing so accentuates the routine colonial injustices.  The expanded role of both Marie and Djemila are a stark female counterpoint to the more toxic male characters.  One weekend, Raymond invites Meursault and Marie to the beach, where they encounter the Arab brother of Djemila, who deliberately remains nameless in the novel, as if to emphasize Meursault’s detachment, but in a change from the original text Ozon gives him the name of Moussa (Abderrahmane Dehkani), empowering the character by giving him an identity.  His presence prompts Raymond to hand a revolver to Meursault for emergency purposes, leading to Moussa’s revenge-driven confrontation with Meursault, who finds himself disoriented and on the edge of heatstroke on the beach, which leads to the pivotal, yet shocking, shooting, firing a fatal shot, but after a pause, fires four more shots.  Ozon films the scene in a sensory manner, almost completely silent, with the sun’s reflection off the blade of a knife blinding his eyes, where the violent act contrasts significantly from the serenity of the beach location.  Meursault is incarcerated afterwards, where the confinement in prison mirrors his overall sense of detachment, exploring themes of meaninglessness and human indifference, as Meursault’s apathy serves as a critique of French society.  Never denying the murder he committed, blaming it on the sun and the intensity of the heat, which becomes a physical force, blurring discomfort and fate, though what stands out at the trial is that he’s condemned less for the crime he commits than on his lack of emotion, as he is absurdly portrayed as heartless due to his inability to cry at his mother’s funeral, where his passivity is viewed as a lack of remorse, denouncing him as a soulless monster that deserves to be put to death.  Even after refusing to see the prison chaplain (Swann Arlaud), he receives a visit anyway, with the chaplain believing Meursault will be released on appeal, but it will not relieve the pervading sense of guilt he feels, which he attributes to his faithlessness, in his belief that God doesn’t exist.  Insulted by what he perceives as a patronizing attitude, Meursault refuses to play along and accosts the chaplain in a fit of rage, confident in his belief that we are resigned to our own fate, “Actually, I was sure of myself, sure about everything, far surer than he; sure of my present life and of the death that was coming,” where nothing can change the fact that we are all condemned to die one day, so in the end, nothing ultimately matters.  “I had only a little time left and I didn’t want to waste it on God.”  Ozon resorts to a voiceover only twice, once at the end of the first part, and again at the very end, as in those key moments the detached voice of Meursault preserves the literary style of Camus, while in the end the Cure’s 1979 post-punk anthem The Cure - Killing An Arab (Live in Barcelona 1985) YouTube (2:40) blares angrily, where the apathy of the main character is the focus of the song, which was singer/songwriter Robert Smith’s Camus-inspired, poetic impressions of the shooting at the beach.

Note

In a contemporary analysis of the character of Meursault, it has been suggested that he’s autistic, though Asperger’s Syndrome wasn’t diagnosed until 1944, two years after the novel was published, and didn’t officially become recognized as a formal mental health diagnosis until 1994, so with such limited knowledge of autism at the time, it was probably not what Camus had in mind.  However, Camus reportedly based the character of Meursault on his close friend Pierre Galindo, who was revealed to be an intelligent but odd person, who exhibited the characteristic impairment of social and personal behavior of Asperger’s Syndrome, yet Camus recognized and understood his friend’s strange behavior before Asperger’s Syndrome had been defined.  Nonetheless, in view of the many interpretations of the novel and film, it is worth mentioning, and has been written about extensively, including this 21-page essay by Isabelle Wentworth from Journal of Camus Studies in 2015, (DOC) Autism & Absurdism: Philosophical Ramifications of ..., suggesting the creation of Meursault may be the first published account of a man with this disorder.  While certainly not a definitive reading, the interpretations and ideas developed from Meursault’s words, thoughts, and actions may now be seen by some as the words and behavior of a man with Asperger’s Syndrome.  It should also be mentioned that Algerian journalist Kamel Daoud (now living in France under police protection after the authoritarian Algerian regime sought his arrest) wrote his first novel, The Meursault Investigation, as a 2013 counterpoint to the Camus story from the perspective of the unnamed Arab victim killed by the Camus protagonist.

CAMUS, Albert - The Stranger.pdf  77-page novella (pdf)

The Crime Is Mine (Mon Crime)

 

Director François Ozon

Ozon with Rebecca Marder and Nadia Tereszkiewicz

Ozon with Fabrice Luchini and Isabelle Huppert

THE CRIME IS MINE (Mon Crime)            B                                                                      France  (102 mi)  2023  ‘Scope  d: François Ozon

Doing justice has nothing to do with what’s just.                                                                          —Judge Gustave Rabusset (Fabrice Luchini)

Following the earlier works of 8 WOMEN (2002) and Potiche (2010), set in the 50’s and 70’s, Ozon has crafted a third installment in a trilogy of films exploring the status of women, specifically “the hold men have over women,” where this may be France’s answer to the #MeToo movement, a campaign against sexual abuse, sexual harassment, and rape culture in which survivors, led by the voices of women, especially public figures, share their experiences of sexual abuse or sexual harassment.  In France, a person who makes a sexual harassment complaint at work is reprimanded or fired 40% of the time, while the accused person is typically not investigated or punished at all ("'Revolt' in France Against Sexual Harassment Hits Cultural Resistance").  The Harvey Weinstein scandal of sexual abuse allegations played a pivotal role in the emergence and global spread of the #MeToo movement in 2017, when more than eighty women accused Weinstein of sexual assault, harassment, and rape over a period of thirty years, where casting couch practices (soliciting sexual favors from a job applicant in exchange for employment) skewed the sexual politics of Hollywood, which normalized the behavior due to the prevalence of sexually aggressive men with positions of authority in the film industry.  While this serves as a backdrop to the film, Ozon has turned it into a hilarious sex farce moving at a breakneck pace, told with a light tone of sophistication and irreverence through the point of view of several enterprising women who turn tragedy into financial success beyond their dreams, with obvious allusions to Harvey Weinstein and his “invitations” for actresses to audition for him, which is just an excuse to sexually take advantage of them.  Freely adapted by Ozon and Philippe Piazzo from the 1934 French play Mon Crime by Georges Berr and Louis Verneuil where the protagonists were husband and wife, it has twice been adapted into Hollywood screwball romps, featuring Carole Lombard in Wesley Ruggles’ TRUE CONFESSION (1937) and Betty Hutton in John Berry’s CROSS MY HEART (1946).  Set in a romanticized Paris during the 1930’s, it opens with a theatrical curtain rising, followed by an inert shot of a view across the pool leading to a massive estate, where we hear shouting in the distance before a frantic young woman rushes away in tears, making her way down a crowded city street bumping into people.  This is our introduction to Madeleine Verdier (Nadia Tereszkiewicz), a struggling blonde actress with her brunette friend Pauline Mauléon (Rebecca Marder), an out-of-work lawyer with no cases, sharing a cramped Parisian studio where they are forced to share a single bed.  Behind on their rent, they do a diversionary two-step dance with the landlord, a somewhat feeble-minded man, making short work of his true intentions to collect payment as he is easily distracted by the teasing manner of their fake histrionics, pleading poverty as if it was a virtue, always claiming they have the best of intentions.  Madeleine’s boyfriend is André Bonnard (Édouard Sulpice), the heir to a huge Bonnard tire fortune, making him an excellent marriage prospect and the answer to their problems, but he refuses to work or even accept money from his father (André Dussollier), so he’s really a layabout, of no help whatsoever.  While there is a hint of queer attraction on the part of Pauline for Madeleine, and are even shown bathing together, but nothing ever develops, as the actress seems oblivious to it.     

Making things worse, they are paid a visit by Inspector Brun (Régis Laspalès), who informs them that famous theater producer Montferrand (Jean-Christophe Bouvet), the massively wealthy older man Madeleine met before her rapid departure, was found murdered, making her a suspect, as she was one of the last to see him before she left under questionable circumstances.  Describing him as a “dirty old pig” who wouldn’t stop grabbing her at an audition, willing to offer her a job only if she agreed to have sex with him, she quickly dismissed his offer, refusing to trade her body for a coveted role.  Undeterred by the news, the women quickly go out to the cinema, watching Billy Wilder’s first directorial effort, his only European film, MAUVAISE GRAINE (BAD SEED) (1934), a story about a good-for-nothing playboy (mirroring André) who enjoys a hedonistic lifestyle thanks to his father’s immense wealth and ends up joining a gang of car thieves.  Shot in France during Wilder’s migration from Germany to the United States when he was fleeing from the threat of the Nazis, the film stars Danielle Darrieux, one of the original eight women in Ozon’s EIGHT WOMEN, whose jazz-infused songs are heard throughout the film, Le bonheur c'est un rien Danielle Darrieux YouTube (2:56), like a ringing reminder of more innocent times and how quickly it was all forgotten, as the decade began with the Great Depression and ended on the brink of global war.  While the women are out, however, Inspector Brun sneaks back inside their apartment searching for evidence, finding a revolver that could end up being the murder weapon.  Earlier, a weary and emotionally despondent Madeleine feigned suicide with that same gun, “I’m a bad actress, you’re a bad lawyer, no one loves us.  Let’s be sensible and kill ourselves,” only to be deterred by Pauline, “No, it’s a beautiful day, and I have sandwiches.”  The overly biased investigating judge, Gustave Rabusset, an over-the-top Fabrice Luchini, the bewildered schoolmaster in Ozon’s In the House (Dans La Maison) (2012), is quickly convinced of Madeleine's guilt, based entirely on speculation, like a shot in the dark where he’s literally connecting the dots hoping it actually leads to something.  Madeleine claims she rebuffed his unwanted sexual advances, finding him lecherously vile and pathetic, but fled when he tried to sexually assault her, and left while he was very much alive, and is about to denounce the judge’s theory, but Pauline holds her back, with the judge acknowledging that if she can plead self-defense, she may not be found guilty, as France has a history of leniency in “crimes of passion.”  The fact that she didn’t commit the crime feels irrelevant, as Pauline springs into action, suddenly finding herself a case, deciding to make the trial a symbol of male oppression and abuse of women, which quickly makes sensational headlines as a cause célėbre.  In a world where reality and fiction merge, it’s impossible not to see parallels to today’s scandal and social media-obsessed world, with people willing to do anything to become famous.  Madeleine gives the performance of a lifetime posing as a wronged woman protecting her virtue, with rehearsed lines and carefully selected costumes, where Pauline’s closing argument ends in a rousing feminist speech exposing the hypocrisy of French male society to the delight of the courtroom audience and the media, as Madeleine is acquitted and immediately becomes a major film and stage star, while Pauline’s career as a lawyer takes off and the two women move to a luxurious house in Neuilly.  Using theater as an existential metaphor, the film is about the duplicity of words and the endless motives of an action, with Ozon never forgetting that women, using femininity as a weapon or tool, can be formidable manipulators to satisfy their lofty ambitions, where achieving justice can be achieved through means that aren’t necessarily based on fairness or truth, often resorting to a hall of mirrors and camouflages. 

A satiric comedy about misogyny and the abuse of power, the film is essentially an exploration of the dynamics of power and the complicated status of women, continuing themes explored in Ozon’s Peter von Kant (2022), a gender reversal re-interpretation of Fassbinder’s The Bitter Tears of Petra von Kant (Die Bitteren Tränen der Petra von Kant) (1972).  Ozon adroitly frames anti-feminist positions in sophisticated settings, where all the male characters are fools, either deluded or ridiculously pompous, while poking holes at a corrupt judicial system, as the female characters shine in triumph, like voices of liberation.  Playfully mixing together elements of theater and film, with opulent sets and smart staging, the film is a battle of wits, flaunting a biting feminist edge and campy humor, suggesting violence was often the only way women had to evade sexual harassment, reminding viewers that women in France did not have the right to vote until the postwar elections of 1945, could not marry freely, or even have their own checking account, where the road to success lay in the traditional role of marriage or in being someone’s mistress, an option these women abhor.  Just as the film begins to luxuriate in its rags-to-riches success story, Ozon introduces his most deviously wacky character in the form of scene-stealing Isabelle Huppert as eccentric silent film star Odette Chaumette, arriving in a flurry of chaos, draped in furs and feathers, with wonderfully absurd flaming orange hair that resembles a Toulouse-Lautrec poster.  All remember her former glory, like an homage to famous French actress Sarah Bernhardt, still dressed in turn-of-the-century theater attire, but she’s disappeared from public prominence, and now returns with a vengeance, claiming she’s the real murderer, and that these women have stolen her thunder, manipulating the headlines into successful careers, demanding recompense or she’ll spill the beans, exposing them as frauds while displaying a penchant for blackmail, ridiculously declaring with utmost sincerity, “The crime is mine!”  An over-the-top screwball comedy that plays fast and loose with the facts, the theatricality of the original play has taut, witty lines, accentuated by rapid-fire dialogue and dizzying flashbacks that feel more imaginary than real, with Ozon playfully adding contemporary themes.  At the end of the film, Madeleine and Odette combine forces to star in a play recreating the crime we did not see at the beginning, thumbing their noses at rampant sexism, mercilessly mocking entrenched bourgeois manners, accentuated by the acidic realism of black and white newsreel clips of famous female criminals of the 30’s, like the infamous Papin case, Christine and Léa Papin, the story of two sisters thought to have had incestuous relations.  Employed as maids, subject to written detailed instructions demanding perfection that would pass the “white glove test,” they killed their employer and her daughter in a particularly brutal manner, gouging the mother’s eyes and mutilating their bodies with a kitchen knife, the source material of Jean Genet’s The Maids, with many identifying the crime as a symbol for class struggle, also Violette Nozière (murderer), a French woman who accused her father of sexually abusing her, but was convicted of murdering her father, poisoning her parents with barbiturates, but her mother miraculously survived.  These gruesome events punctuate the otherwise richly colored action, as do references to the music and popular film culture of the 1930’s.  Huppert, by the way, played Violette Noziėre in Claude Chabrol’s screen adaptation VIOLETTE (1978), winning the Best Actress Award at the Cannes Film Festival, so her presence is no mere coincidence, while Luchini also had a small role in that film.  With lavish period costumes and art deco sets, the lush scale of the film is much more extravagant than typically minimalist Ozon films, with a dazzling medley of images and sounds, where it’s clear they had a riot making this film, with Ozon back to his mischievous ways.