The key to the success of any good film is often quite simple – have a good story and execution that matches or overtakes the level of ambition that went into its conception. Obviously it is integral to add other elements for the sake of diversity, but good art is really just a matter of ensuring that there is a reasoning behind the material (even if it is extraordinarily abstract) and that the viewer is getting some sense of an original experience when looking at it, or at least walks away enriched in some way. La Moustache is one of the more peculiar examples of how a strong concept can be executed in surprising ways, with Emmanuel Carrère directing a fascinating psychological thriller that explores a few deep themes in the form of a very unconventional story. Focusing on an ordinary middle-aged man who decides to shave off his moustache (which he has sported for decades) on a whim, only to find himself plunged into an existential crisis, the film is a strange and disquieting voyage into the mind of someone teetering dangerously close on a nervous breakdown. It doesn’t always make much sense, and the director goes about exploring several major themes in a way that can sometimes be quite confusing, but for the most part, La Moustache is the kind of triumphant, experimental drama that rarely features a single false note, and chooses its ideas with extreme caution, knowing that even a slight flaw could derail the entire production, which is tightly-wound and a work that depends on the viewer’s ability to leap onto the bewildering wavelength that is integral to the tone and approach were taken with this story – and considering the impeccable work being done by the director and his cast, this is certainly not too laborious of a task, especially when it becomes clear how rewarding this film is for those who pay attention to its most intricate and compelling details.

If you look solely at the premise, La Moustache sounds like a work of absurdist comedy – how else can one justify an entire feature-length film about a man undergoing a crisis of identity after shaving off his facial hair and discovering that not only have those around him not noticed, but they are fervent in their belief that he never had the moustache to begin with, which leads to the film’s central conflict. However, this is an incredibly serious film, and it earns every bit of its dramatic impact through being a genuinely well-crafted thriller. Carrère, who adapted his novel, seems to be inspired by some of the great masters of suspense, like Alfred Hitchcock and Otto Preminger, both of whom thrived when it came to taking abstract concepts and finding new ways to deliver the most genuine and provocative thrills without needing to resort to excess. There isn’t a moment of humour present in this film, which would normally indicate quite a dour affair and one that may not be particularly appealing to those expecting a more subversive glimpse into this character as he navigates what is a serious case of imposter syndrome, which is the root of a lot of tension and despair amongst these characters, who grow hostile about some broader themes, all of which are explored with precision and nuance by a director who understands how to evoke a particular atmosphere, one that may be dark and foreboding, but provokes us emotionally and intellectually, which is not something that we find very often in mainstream thrillers, which normally veer towards using surprising scenarios as a means to offer entertainment, rather than provoke even an iota of the unique commentary from which Carrère is working, one of the many reasons behind the resounding success of this unconventional film.

Choosing the right tone was very important, especially since the director was aiming to make this quite a sobering exploration of the main character as he undergoes what is very clearly an existential crisis driven by the midlife malaise he felt as a member of the middle class. Suddenly, his comfortable life is out of orbit, and he is confronted with a situation where he loses all sense of direction, which causes quite a stir in both his personal and professional life. This is where Carrère manages to succeed since while it is undeniably easy to create a scenario in which such a story is used as a means of humour, it is an achievement to take such an absurd concept and turn it into one of the most profound and unsettling examinations of identity we have seen in quite a while. The main character loses all understanding of reality and gradually finds himself lost in a hostile world, where even his beloved wife and cherished friends begin to feel antagonistic towards him, burdening him with the knowledge that not only is he suffering from what is a loss of identity, their support for him is gradually eroding at the same time. There are moments in La Moustache that feel genuinely terrifying, with the sense of discombobulation and lack of logic creating a tone that seems only a few moments away from spiralling out of control. It all leads to a strangely alluring climax in which the protagonist finds himself in Hong Kong, perpetually trapped on the ferry between the mainland and the island, seemingly doomed to repeat this same action for as long as he feels this sense of existential dread – and while this is undeniably off-putting and challenging, there’s a virtue in how the director approaches this material that feels so unique and captivating, making us feel the same sense of despair and entrapment that the main character experiences, and any director that can make use of such a narrative and tonal device is immediately justified in saying they have a very distinct artistic point of view.

Based on the level of complexity that went into telling such a complex story, it is undeniable that La Moustache is a very abstract work – but Carrère is a seasoned veteran, and understands that without the right actors, this film would simply not work, especially since there are an abundance of details embedded in his story that could only be realized fully if he chose people who could handle the distinct and unsettling scope of the story. Vincent Lindon is the kind of actor who seems to enjoy taking on challenges – few performers of his generation have so openly pursued roles that require him to push boundaries, often beyond anything he had done before. He brings a level of precision and complexity to every character he plays, which is perfect for the protagonist of this film, which requires someone who can flourish in both the scenes filled with heavy dialogue, as well as the more quiet moments that depend on his ability to effectively emote without saying a word, which is almost the entire third act, and the foundation on which a lot of the film is built. He shares many of his scenes with the divine Emmanuelle Devos, who plays his loving wife who cares for him, but also refuses to entertain what is a midlife crisis, going so far as to emotionally (and eventually physically) distance herself from him, to try and persuade him to get the help he needs. Lindon and Devos take every challenge thrown at them in stride, carefully and precisely crafting these characters in collaboration with the director, who uses them extremely well, creating an unsettling portrait of a couple who find their relationship in trouble as a result of the psychological tension that comes about through a very odd but unique midlife crisis.

La Moustache isn’t perfect in its outlook, and Carrère often seems to be outright imitating Hitchcock in how he frames certain scenarios (to the point where he outright parrots the director in a few ways), but there is an abundance of perverse and bizarre thrills present throughout La Moustache, which is very much a film that hinges on our ability to surrender to the peculiarities of the story without expecting a clear resolution, or one that feels like it has complete control of the story. It’s a very experimental work, and like many similar films, narrative satisfaction is eclipsed by the forthright desire to deconstruct the art form and the audience’s understanding of certain issues – and all through a story about a man undergoing a midlife crisis and shaving off his facial hair and then being thrown into a state of complete mental despair as a result of realizing that this represents a considerable shift in his identity, which was never secure in the first place. It takes its time to reach a place where we start to understand that there is more to this film than what is reflected in the title and that this is a fascinating character study, of both the protagonist and those who surround him, reflecting a sense of existential ennui and psychological despair, which form the foundation for this disconcerting exploration of identity and mental fragility. It’s not a film that always makes sense, but it gradually becomes a work of incredible nuance and stunning artistic integrity, and consolidates Carrère’s vision as one that is plucked from a place of genuine empathy and complexity. Unique, poignant and quite disturbing, La Moustache is a fascinating film that challenges standards and provokes thought, leading to quite a profound work of unconventional artistry that quite literally goes against the grain.