You have to give credit to Quentin Dupieux for the sheer audacity that guides his career – who else has the gall to make the films that absolutely no one asked for, but yet feel almost essential once we spend some time with them? With a directorial career that started under his musical moniker of Mr Oizo, directing the iconic Rubber, Dupieux has come a long way to developing his own authorial voice, becoming one of our generation’s most playful and subversive directors, with nearly a dozen terrific films under his belt by now, which is a great achievement for any artist, let alone one who has had his entire career defined by his penchant for the absurd. In his most recent effort, Incredible but True (French: Incroyable mais Vrai), Dupieux once again crafts a delightfully bizarre parable about social conventions and the surreal nature of reality when it is filtered through the perspective of someone whose entire artistic output has been about stretching the limits of logic in a way that is challenging and unorthodox, and frequently delightful in the sheer peculiarity that drives them. Drawing on his own love for underground art, which works in conjunction with an off-the-wall admiration for the kinds of inexplicable science fiction comedies that seemed to influence this story, Incredible but True is such a delightfully odd film, the kind of simple but effective dark comedy that knows how to capture the audience’s attention, and has enough detail to justify some of its more peculiar components, which is essentially what has differentiated Dupieux’s films from the other similar attempts to construct absurdist comedies that touch on issues such as social status and various aspects of contemporary culture – and while it’s far from his best work, this film is every bit as delightful as anything else the director has done.

While it is very much aligned with the oddities that are usually seen as defining of his style, Incredible but True is quite subdued in comparison, telling a much more simple story, albeit one that is still extremely strange in a way that is as delightfully endearing as many of his other films, but lacking the sense of repulsion and over-the-top violence that sometimes punctuates the director’s work. His primary intention here is to tell a story that focuses on time travel, but not the kind that we’d necessarily expect – it focuses on a middle-aged couple that buys a home in the suburbs of working-class France, choosing the property based on one particularly notable quirk: in the basement sits a borehole that, when descended, allows an individual to not only jump forward twelve hours in time, but also become three days younger, which leads to a fervent quest for youth, done with reckless disregard for the hidden caveats of this mysterious feature. This is the starting point for the film, and while it does make some headway in exploring some themes with a bit more dedication, the story is relatively quite faithful to the overall premise, keeping with this very simple story, rarely deviating in any way that could distract from the foundation of the story. This is the charm of Dupieux’s films – he delivers exactly what he promises, and the surprises we encounter in the process are only additional benefits to the experience, tacked onto the film to give it some additional depth, rather than overly complicating a story that didn’t need to be particularly challenging in the first place. His creativity is a great asset, but his refusal to make films that are overly dense or rely too heavily on high-concept storytelling is what has made Dupieux such an intriguing filmmaker, and allows all of his works to have a sense of earnest allure that we may not expect from someone who has seemingly been defined by his fondness for the absurd.

Like anything that the director has made, Incredible but True is not a film that ever offers any explanation for its storyline, and seemingly relishes in its inability to align itself with any kind of logic, which is something that Dupieux has enjoyed demonstrating his umbrage towards in all sectors of his artistic life. This film is a perfect example of how he shows very little interest in playing by the rules – the entire concept is bizarre in itself, and the fact that it is brought up without any attempt at an explanation or any clear logic behind it is all part of the appeal. Dupieux might be the only filmmaker whose brand is based on his refusal to adhere to any rational thought, and instead crafting works that are challenging in a way that we’d not expect, taking us on wild journeys that don’t make a lot of sense, but still are as entertaining and enticing as anything else, which is the primary reason the film feels so fresh and exciting, despite the abstract storytelling components that ultimately serve very little purpose other than to be as bizarre as possible. There isn’t any deeper meaning here, and the social satire is all very much surface-level, which is why the film feels so refreshing – it’s a surrealist work that doesn’t need the viewer to comb through layers of subtext to understand the value of the film, but instead gives us everything we need, and hopes that the very few ambigious spaces can be filled in through our own discretion, which is a great way to approach this kind of film, since it gives the audience the benefit of the doubt and allows us to engage with the film on our own terms.

One aspect of Dupieux’s films that I find quite intriguing is his ability to attract an impeccably high calibre of talent to become part of his cast. His films are strange and offbeat, and at a cursory glance, we’d expect major actors to avoid such bizarre stories, since they not only rarely make a profit, but also can be difficult to escape should they be seen as too unconventional. Yet, in over a decade of filmmaking, not a single actor that has appeared in any of the director’s works has had one of them be seen as a blight in their careers – if anything, the willingness to surrender to his outrageous scenarios is viewed as a daring choice, an opportunity for some of Europe’s most esteemed and acclaimed actors to have some fun, since it’s clear that Dupieux’s films are as entertaining to make as they are to watch. It seems like every major actor in France is clamouring to work with the director, and he appears more than happy to oblige, especially since they all bring the same commitment to these bizarre films as they would in more serious fare. Incredible but True is led by the duo of Alain Chabat and Léa Drucker, who have dipped into comedy on previous occasions, but seem to have struck an entirely new set of challenges with the protagonists of this film. They’re both very good, which is important considering they are playing the roles completely straight, never hinting at the fact that they know what they are making is a comedy for even a single moment, which is part of the appeal of the film – everyone involved acts as if it is a sobering drama, which is refreshing and entertaining, and only leads to more hilarity. Benoît Magimel and Anaïs Demoustier are also featured quite prominently, being reliable supporting presences that round out the cast and add to the careful balance of pathos and humour that drives most of the film.

A pitch-black comedy with bizarre techniques but the purest of intentions, Incredible but True is such a delightfully odd curio of a film, the kind of heartfelt absurdist comedy that feels like it earns every bit of attention it receives, even if it is playing to a much smaller audience, since these are not the kinds of films that are widely seen or distributed, mainly because they are far too strange to market as mainstream offerings, and instead pander to those with an adoration of the most unconventional and surreal recesses of the arthouse culture. Dupieux is a terrific director, and his work is always concise and to the point – running at only 74 minutes, it’s an economical film that never overstays its welcome, emerging immediately with its central ideas, executing them with precision and dedication, and moving on quickly and with very little fanfare. It’s peculiar to a fault, and often feels like it was cobbled together from fragments that didn’t have a place in a bigger film, and instead flourished into its own work. It’s a legitimately funny and subversive (which is important to a film this potentially polarizing) that knows how to handle its oddities with sophistication and a tremendous sense of humour – and its arguably one of the director’s most accessible works, since it doesn’t rely on shock value or humour that is far too abstract to work, instead having an easily approachable story that is as bizarre as it is adorable, which is the kind of contradiction only someone like Dupieux could so effectively convey without it coming across as anything other than totally and quintessentially authentic.