Alpha, directed by Julia Ducournau, follows a thirteen-year-old Alpha (Mélissa Boros) who, after her mum, Maman (Golshifteh Farahani), discovers she has returned home with a tattoo, is now concerned she has the virus that has been sweeping the community, including Maman’s own brother Amin (Tahar Rahim). Because of the possibility of ‘what if someone is infected,’ the community suddenly switches to isolation instead of embracing and supporting one another.

This is my first experience with Ducournau, who is following up on Raw (2016) and Titane (2021), so I did not know what to expect; however, amid all the bleakness, there is an equal amount of affection balancing this family unit.

Film finds success with two elements. Body horror, that is, less gore, more transformative to the individual as those infected turn into marble statues. The transformative element leads to another aspect that works: the isolation that comes with fear of the body, which actually transforms the entire community, including Alpha’s school or Maman’s work, into environments that are more assuming than understanding.

The emotional weight comes from the feelings each of the three faces expresses. For Alpha, her fellow students turn her into a walking contagion you shouldn’t go near. Amin’s addiction comes from a place of wanting to escape his family, and Maman, who is a doctor at the frontlines, sees how this virus is affecting people and puts up barriers.

There are clear parallels to how AIDs patients were viewed and treated in the 80s, also how those with drug addictions are treated now. The through line is that sense of isolation. Really, Ducournau is playing with the idea of a community turning inwards, as you see at the hospital where Maman works—patients with the virus are put in the basement, as if keeping them down there will make it easier to ignore.

Ducournau importantly doesn’t judge; instead, she really highlights how trapped that sense of isolation can be. There is a sequence in which Alpha imagines her room caving in on her; it’s only her. Unlike monster movies, this reckons with horror coming from somewhere within Alpha, that is, a deeply rooted fear that she can’t kill or trap; it has to be confronted, or it will bury her.

Not just internally, but externally as well, the body horror itself is phenomenal. As the virus turns people into marble, into living statues, we see the cracks, cough up marble dust, and witness the final evolution into complete marble. So if you are someone who finds the whole transformation element of body horror a bit uneasy, I would say skip lunch.

But the film has genuine affection and empathy. Ducournau balances the bleakness. We see vulnerability within our family unit. A great example is when Amin is shaking and has a fever because he hasn’t had a hit in a while. It’s really tough to watch, but Alpha embraces him. In that moment, you forget who the child is as the roles reverse: Alpha becomes the adult offering that safety through the hug, while Amin goes back to being a young boy looking for that sense of safety.

This is actually the second-ever credit for Boros, following Le silence de Sibel (2021) as Sibel. But with the performance as Alpha, what is so impressive is how she holds her own. There is a real sense of someone who acts older than their age, to the point that she comes across as stubborn and a bit of a smartass. The young actress tackled the difficult subject matter with confidence.

Farahani as Maman brings a sense of a mum who is tired and just trying to get by. Farahani always has this feeling of what Alpha will do next, but you never doubt that bond and the love she has for Alpha, even with everything that is going on.

Rahim, rounding the three off as Amin, is that uncle you have in the family who is a bit mad. Whenever you see him, you don’t know what he is going to do, which makes him endearing. But Rahim does show the vulnerability that is still within him—a young boy who never felt like his family ever got him.

With Alpha, it takes its marble body horror not just to show how fear and isolation transform the individuals affected, but also the community they find themselves in. Due to assumptions and a lack of understanding, that community finds it far easier to isolate than to find the bravery to still be open.

Review Courtesy of Matthew Allan

Feature Image Credit to NEON via IMDb