You may know French director Bruno Dumont best from his gritty, austere dramas rooted in the realities of rural working-class life. Films like The Life of Jesus and Humanity established his reputation in the 1990s arthouse scene for stark Neorealist portrayals of hardship and struggle.
What a surprise, then, to see Dumont pivot hard into sci-fi-comedy territory with his latest effort, The Empire. This wacky genre mashup grafts an absurd intergalactic battle between good and evil onto the distinctly earthbound setting of northern France’s Opal Coast. Dumont brings his signature deadpan style to a goofy plot involving aliens infiltrating a sleepy fishing village. It’s rustic French bizarrerie meets trips-you-up space opera tropes.
Early word pegged The Empire as an outright Star Wars spoof, but it would be more accurate to call it a French rural comedy baked into sci-fi trappings. The story revolves around opposing alien factions using human vessels in a sleepy seaside town to vie for control over the fate of humanity. Dumont has a laugh satirizing the self-seriousness of blockbuster space epics by transplanting their operatic stakes into his familiar provincial playground. It makes for quite the genre head-trip.
Good vs Evil…in Northern France
The core conflict in The Empire centers on two opposing alien factions using human vessels to wage war for control over Earth’s fate. On the side of darkness is Beelzebub (Fabrice Luchini having a blast in outlandish costumes), leading the “0” aliens from a spaceship that resembles Versailles. His mission: enable the rise of a demon child named Le Margat who will usher in an apocalypse.
Standing in their way are the angelic “1” aliens, spearheaded by a beatific Queen (Camille Cottin) who communicates edicts from her own cathedral-shaped ship. Her loyal followers on Earth include Jane (Anamaria Vartolomei), a rebel heroine garbed in sci-fi chic costumes who zips around town on a quest to stop Le Margat. She receives aid from her bumbling trainee Rudy (Julien Manier).
The pivotal pawn in this clash is local fisherman Jony (Brandon Vlieghe), Le Margat’s father. Unbeknownst to most of the villagers, Jony has become an unwilling host to the villainous Beelzebub. He struggles against this alien assimilation while also raising the young boy believed to be the demon overlord-in-waiting.
The future ruler Le Margat, whose real name is Freddy, becomes the prime target as both sides jockey for his custody. With aliens plotting global extermination from the cosmos and lightsaber-wielding French rebels fighting them regionally, this sleepy village becomes an unlikely locus for determining humanity’s fate. The premise sets the stage for a hilarious culture clash.
Cosmic Battles, Earthly Absurdity
The Empire leans heavily on deadpan humor and absurdism as it grafts weighty sci-fi themes onto a provincial French setting. Dumont pokes fun at the self-seriousness of cinematic space operas by introducing interstellar battles over existential concepts like good vs evil, sacred vs secular, the duality of man. Yet he stages them via eccentric townspeople barely batting an eye at the alien weirdness in their midst.
Visually, the film achieves an impressively immersive quality through CGI effects that fuse French architectural landmarks into futuristic starships. We see Versailles and the gothic Saint-Chapelle cathedral rendered as dueling motherships. The history and imagery of these Gallic touchstones gets reinterpreted through a sci-fi lens.
Down on Earth, Dumont leans on the incongruous visual gag of weatherbeaten French villagers and seaside locals nonchalantly discussing age-old intergalactic struggles. The ordinariness of their surroundings, concerns, and reactions belies the supposedly high stakes at hand. Even when lives are lost, they react with amusing reserve, more worried about their next fishing haul than the fate of humanity.
Tonally, the film alternates from eerie to sidesplitting, often within moments. Dumont tries to wring both laughs and chills from this culture clash, aiming for a sweet spot between spooky, weird and satirically amusing. Mileage may vary on whether his singular deadpan approach lands with every viewer. But the commitment to a totally odd premise pays off with an utterly unique viewing experience.
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A Polarizing Interstellar Romp
The Empire sees Bruno Dumont fully embracing his inner weirdo to delirious effect. Fans of his signature brand of absurdism will delight at his gonzo twists in blending quirky French comedy with sci-fi bombast. Yet that unusual tonal mix makes the film a bit of an acquired taste.
Reviews out of festivals like Berlin and Cannes prove rather polarized. Some laud the sheer odd brilliance of Dumont’s send-up, finding rich satire in the dissonance between self-serious space sagas and provincial French life. Yet other critics argue the one-joke premise wears thin, with an over-reliance on deadpan provocation in place of plot or character development.
Potential issues like simplistic binaries of good and evil or charges of sexism from departed cast member Adele Haenel do hold water for some viewers. And the utter weirdness risks confounding or even alienating (no pun intended) many audiences. But fans of French eccentricity and admirers of Dumont’s stubborn auteur vision may be more forgiving.
No matter where you land, The Empire deserves recognition for sheer originality and audacity. This strange cinematic specimen severs ties to convention or realism in pursuit of a perverse but boldly realized creative vision. It highlights Bruno Dumont as one of world cinema’s true iconoclasts – a reputation sure to only grow stronger after this bizarro offering.
An Acquired Taste from France’s Most Eccentric Auteur
Ultimately, Bruno Dumont’s The Empire proves a tricky but fascinating addition to a provocative filmography. Fans of his idiosyncratic style will cheer this creative leap into sci-fi-comedy as another triumph for the visionary director. Yet general audiences and even arthouse crowds may struggle with such a strange brew.
One’s mileage on The Empire directly relates to an affinity for Dumont’s stubborn homebrew of gloomy existential themes, dark absurdity, and deadpan rural comedy. He whips that signature cocktail into fresh extremes here through ambitious genre fusion. The sheer oddity inherent to his approach means this film merits caution more than outright recommendation from this critic. But viewers with a high tolerance for weird should indulge.
Could The Empire have used more plot, character or tonal consistency from its zany concept? Sure, yet likely by design, Dumont hangs everything on his droll high concept without much connective tissue. Admirers will salute his fierce commitment to such an unusual artistic vision. Detractors may crave a bit more substance behind the provocative style. But no one can argue this space oddity fails to march to the beat of its own very strange drum.
The Review
The Empire
The Empire sees French auteur Bruno Dumont Operating in nearly an alternate filmmaking galaxy compared to his early career work. This utterly weird genre mashup epitomizes his growth into a gleeful cinematic provocateur. Viewers up for something wildly original may dig the absurd delights. But the strange brew proves a bit too outlandish for mainstream tastes.
PROS
- Wildly original mashup of sci-fi and French rural comedy
- Impressively executed visual effects and worldbuilding
- Committed performances from leads like Vartolomei and Luchini
- Dumont's signature deadpan absurdity used to humorous effect
- Ambitious genre experimentation by an avant garde auteur
CONS
- Over-the-top weirdness risks alienating many viewers
- Plot takes a backseat to provocative concepts
- One-joke premise grows repetitive over runtime
- Potential issues with simplistic binaries, sexist elements
- Not an accessible film beyond arthouse crowds
