Rare connections and sublime desires flutter like butterflies caught in moving wheels in Pierre Le Gall’s Flesh and Fuel — Cannes Critics’ Week’s intimate entry about the weight of duty and the pull of desire.
Each time Alexis Manenti (as seen is Love According to Dalva, The Man Who Could Not Remain Silent, Le Mohican, and more) steps into the frame, a quiet ache follows: Why has the world not yet turned its full light on him? He burns brightly enough — Manenti has earned his place on a cinematic wall of fame. A disruptor in the truest sense, he consistently inhabits diverse characters with an authenticity that transcends his own comfort zone. Just as in Flesh and Fuel (original title: Du Fioul dans les artères), a film into which Manenti has poured a remarkable amount of exquisiteness, his talent continues to shape and elevate everything around him.
Étienne (Manenti) sits behind the wheel — alert, alone, accountable. No detours. No drifting. Just the open road and the weight of duty. He moves through the world like a needle through fabric: straight, steady, sure. Living a solitary life, he practically resides in his truck and communicates with his sister and nephew whenever he has the opportunity, while everything else remains sealed within his own bubble. At the hour when the world forgets itself, he rolls through dark woods — temptation clinging to every shadow. Then Bartosz (Julian Świeżewski) appears — not with words, but with a doorway. A new adventure unfolds, and the road beneath Étienne becomes something else entirely.
The film exposes the parallel existences of seemingly alpha males — middle-aged, conventionally masculine, and deeply closeted. Though united by their hidden queerness, their internal landscapes diverge, each man descending into distinct fantasies shaped by the specific depths of his repression. Director Pierre Le Gall, who brought such depth through his co-writing with Raphaël Jouzeau on 2024’s Les Belles Cicatrices, now illustrates vulnerability on both sides with the same impeccable touch. His lens finds connection in the most unraveled spaces, offering a kind of intimacy so rare it feels almost sacred. The film somewhat shares DNA with Pawel Pawlikowski’s Ida — the same collision of desire and reality, the same shift between worlds. But where Ida holds its breath, this film exhales an explosion. An inner secret detonates into desire, binding pleasure and love with equal force.
The mesmerizing quality of Flesh and Fuel, mainly produced by Nicolas Blanc (Ex Nihilo), derives significantly from the performances of Świeżewski and, in particular, Manenti — each imbued with an urgent, gripping force that anchors the film. This urgency stems from a desire for more and a silent search for emotional completion, all buried beneath the impediments of perception and fear. Yet the same longing lingers within them relentlessly, echoing through their minds without warning — and that echo quietly transfers to us as viewers. For that, we have to thank the screenplay by Pierre Le Gall, Camille Perton, and Martin Drouot. Paul Sabin’s musical score moves through the film with the narrative energy of a Disney adventure reconfigured for adult sensibilities. Characterized by deep bass frequencies and techno rhythms, the soundtrack spreads fantasy across the cinematic landscape with remarkable wonder.
A Cannes Critics’ Week discovery, Flesh and Fuel is a romantic bubble that shimmers, then bursts with rare intimacy and absolute honesty, fearlessly plunging middle-aged men into the vulnerable, electric territory of adolescent-like love. A cinematic delight of the highest order, the film embodies love as a rare, magical energy — evoking a beauty that feels almost extinct in modern cinema. Director Le Gall’s feature debut places us in a state of hypnosis alongside these characters, where responsibility and intimacy exist side by side, colliding constantly while the director lays both before the camera in search of clarity.
But there is a love that never fades — the kind that turns the wheels of existence, fuels the heart for an immeasurable journey, and somehow makes everything work. And when it arrives? The world stops spinning.
Our team is on site for the 79th Cannes Film Festival, from May 12 to 23, 2026.
