Review: Alpha — Julia Ducournau Delivers Chaos, Beauty, and a Story That Refuses to Settle

Melissa Boros and Golshifteh Farahani anchor the emotional weight of Alpha

You never really know what you’re walking into with a Julia Ducournau film—and that’s part of the appeal.

After Titane redefined expectations and pushed audiences to their limits, Alpha arrives with a different kind of weight. It’s still confrontational. It’s still unfiltered. But this time, it feels more personal—more grounded in emotional reality than pure shock.

Set in 1980s Le Havre, France, the film follows Alpha, played by Melissa Boros, a young girl living with her mother, a doctor portrayed by Golshifteh Farahani. The world around them is dealing with a strange and unexplained virus—one that slowly turns people into stone.

That premise alone sounds like a horror film ready to lean into spectacle.

But Alpha doesn’t move that way.

Instead, it uses that concept as a backdrop for something much heavier—family, addiction, grief, and the emotional toll of living with someone who is slowly unraveling. Tahar Rahim delivers one of the film’s strongest performances as the uncle, a man whose presence brings a constant sense of instability and unresolved trauma into the home.

And that’s where the film lives.

Not in fear—but in emotional erosion.

Ducournau leans into what French genre cinema has always done best: pushing boundaries without asking permission. This isn’t horror in the traditional sense. It’s uncomfortable. It’s draining. It’s the kind of film that sits with you long after it ends—not because of what you saw, but because of what it made you feel.

Visually, the film is operating at an elite level. Shot by Ruben Impens, Alpha is one of the best-looking films you’re going to see this year. There’s a raw, textured quality to everything—from the environments to the performances—that makes the world feel lived in and suffocating at the same time.

And the performances match that energy.

Melissa Boros is a standout. There’s a presence there that feels immediate, natural, and controlled in a way that suggests this is just the beginning for her. Farahani continues to prove why she’s one of the most commanding actresses working today. And Rahim brings a level of chaos that never feels exaggerated—it feels real, and that’s what makes it hit.

But Alpha isn’t an easy watch—and not just because of its subject matter.

This is a film that feels like it’s juggling multiple identities at once. It’s a virus story. It’s a family drama. It’s a coming-of-age film. It’s a commentary on addiction. And while each of those elements works on its own, they don’t always fully come together as a single, cohesive narrative.

At times, the film drifts. The structure loosens. The focus shifts.

And depending on what you’re looking for, that can either pull you deeper in—or push you out entirely.

That’s the trade-off with Ducournau’s work. She thrives in chaos. She knows how to slow it down, stretch it out, and make you sit in it. And when it works, it’s some of the most compelling filmmaking you’ll see.

When it doesn’t, it feels like too many ideas competing for the same space.

Still, Alpha is a film worth engaging with. It’s bold. It’s uncomfortable. It’s visually striking. And it continues Ducournau’s run as one of the most important voices in modern genre cinema.

Even when it doesn’t fully land, it never plays it safe.

And there’s value in that.

Rating: 3/5