In September of 1940, Henri Marre (Swann Arlaud), a writer, engineer, and a man of great ambition, arrives in the Vichy France, controlled by the Nazi collaborator, Philippe Pétain.
Even though Henri despises the current state of affairs, his aspirations, combined with pragmatism, win out, as he tries to publish his manuscript 'Notre Salut' (Our Salvation), where he pitches his ideas on the future of the country.
His zeal ends up earning him a coveted governmental position at the Commission for the Fight against Unemployment. Henri quickly settles in, moves his estranged wife (Sandrine Blancke) and children into his new place, and sets out to do the best job possible within the collaborationist regime.
It’s interesting that while the English title of Emmanuel Marre’s film differs from the original French one, both of them contain a healthy dose of dark irony. The original, titled after Marre’s manuscript, hints at the fact that no one is saving anyone here. No one even bothers to try to fight, in direct contrast to another French film about the same historical period, which was also presented in this year’s Cannes program, where Emmanuel Marre’s movie premiered, László Nemes’s Moulin. The English title, A Man of His Time, points out that its hero’s story isn’t really unique in his time period – or ours, for that matter.
While this is not the first film to pick at the wound of collaborationism in France, which still remains a sore topic to this day, Emmanuel Marre has a personal connection to this story, since him sharing the last name with the film’s protagonist isn’t a coincidence. Henri is based on the director’s grandfather, and real correspondence between him and his wife, Paulette, which we can hear in the film, became the basis for the film’s script and its narrative structure.
Marre, for whom this is the second live-action feature (after Zero Fucks Given, directed together with Julie Lecoustre), has a few other aces up his sleeve that make A Man of His Time stand out among seemingly themed dramas. First, there is a myriad of stylistic choices that are wonderfully consistent in their unpredictability. There is the grainy, slightly diluted imagery that has a very distinct 16mm feel (the film was actually shot with a Digital Bolex), the sharp lighting that brings a sense of discomfort and unease in certain scenes, and then, there is, of course, a roster of anachronistic electropop songs ('Life is Life' by Opus, 'Popcorn' by Hot Butter, and so forth) that become diegetic and once again hint at this story being a timeless one.
The film’s most disarming feature, however, is its tone that just refuses to be dramatic or in any way manipulative. Everything that Henri does – from putting up a banner in preparation for Pétain’s visit to supplying trucks and fuel for the Germans to transport the Jews – is shown without any pathos, in the most mundane way possible. With its central theme of the banality of evil, Jonathan Glazer’s The Zone of Interest might come to mind, but Marre’s handheld, prying, cinéma vérité-like camera and the dry humor can also produce entirely unexpected associations with the likes of The Office, making the whole affair even more uncomfortable.
It's a smart and poignant film that quietly shows that, much too often, evil prevails because certain people are just too eager to do their jobs well.
The film enjoyed its North American premiere at the 2026 New York Film Festival.