We put together a superb Vincent Lindon in the role of a desperate father, with a son who has been missing for years, and who has never overcome that trauma. Slave to steroids and a little squirted. Let's add a thirty-year-old psychopath, who she kills without a valid reason, in addition perhaps to the shock she suffered as a child, due to a tragic injury. Let's mix everything with the apotheosis of the absurd, which I don't know if it is more to be attributed to becoming pregnant with a vehicle, or to certain human behaviors that are evidently senseless, and we get Titane.

The film itself would also be interesting, in broad terms distressing and disturbing, the problem is that in my opinion it draws too much here and there, and ends up suffering from a fair lack of identity. It takes inspiration from a great Cronenberg without touching the genius of The Fly or Crash in the slightest, it recalls The Neon Demon here and there, but has little to do with the class of that film. It focuses entirely on sending messages, and to justify the aforementioned (a strengthening that passes through suffering, the change of pregnancy and the subsequent rebirth, the acceptance of the new), it sometimes ends up in something that can border on the ridiculous.

Okay, being able to hide breasts that aren't excessively protruding with bandages, but a belly on the verge of exploding, no, there's no I can do it. And even the final dance among the stunned firefighters, I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Where did the baby bump go, but are we serious? In my opinion, not even the most evil of leather corsets that I own would be capable of containing such abundance, much less making that dance fluid (but then in the ninth month, is it possible to move so easily? I don't think so, it seems like the advertisement for that brand of tampon, what is it called? Go with a parachute, jump without fear, stuff that in those days, I curse in ancient Aramaic with pain).

Not to mention the Palme d'Or in Cannes. I believe that awards are now given more for the desire to shock the public rather than for the validity of the work itself. To be clear, there is some good, and if it had been developed in a more coherent way, then yes folks, the recognition would have been deserved, but with what I have seen, sorry, it even seems given to me. Why not set the story in the future, and touch upon the theme of robotization? It would have given a valid motive to this nonsense that knows little more than nothing.

A plate inserted after an accident, which slowly leads the mutation of the little girl's body to a young woman who is increasingly machine-like and less human. It would also have justified the birth of the hybrid. So instead, what is it? Failed science fiction, body horror with dramatic tones, a brief thriller with a serial killer who manages to pass himself off as a man with four bandages, two bruises, and a broken nose against the sink! And the father who doesn't take the DNA test is perhaps the most science fiction fragment of the feature film.

The interpretation of the good girl Agathe Rousselle as Alexia is intense, without a doubt. Her face is expressive, she is able to change and convey her moods well. Unfortunately, however, it remains unexplained what led her to kill. At first you might think that everything can be traced back to sexual advances, but why then throw her parents to the flames? To avoid being searched for? The analysis therefore becomes decidedly more complicated. Even the reason for her sexual transport towards vehicles is not explored sufficiently. It's a shame, Julia Ducournau had pleasantly surprised me with Raw, but this appears to me to be the classic wasted opportunity, which even borders a little on the vulgar in order to impress.