Pierre (Vincent Lindon) is raising his two sons alone. Louis (Stefan Crepon), the younger, is successful in his studies and moves easily through life. Fus (Benjamin Voisin), the elder, is drifting. Fascinated by violence and power dynamics, he moves closer to far-right groups, which stand in opposition to his father’s values. Pierre helplessly witnesses the grip these associations have on his son. Little by little, love gives way to incomprehension…
With The Quiet Son, Delphine Coulin and Muriel Coulin offer a film of contrasts, focusing on radicalization and the despair of a parent who no longer knows what to do for his son.
The Contrasts
The Quiet Son relies on contrasts at different levels. First, there are the characters. As the plot progresses, Pierre and his eldest son drift further apart and become more contrasting. The father is left-leaning, a proud defender of the idea of equality, regardless of whether a person was born in France or not. Fus, on the other hand, moves increasingly toward the far-right. His behavior increasingly resembles that of Nazis. He trains to fight so he can massacre immigrants and people who defend those same immigrants. The father is gentle. The son is harsh. The father believes in the republic. The son believes in an authoritarian regime. The father believes France should be composed of the sum of all its inhabitants. The son believes France should be white.
Pierre (Vincent Lindon) | (c) 2024 Felicita – Curiosa Films – France 3 Cinema
This duality, or contrast, is supported by a staging that also uses strong contrasts. For example, we often see the two brothers, each in their room, in a single shot with a wall separating the two rooms. Visually, it almost looks like distinct shots in a split screen. The image is powerful. We immediately understand that there is a separation, a fracture.
There is also a strong contrast between the scenes inside the house, which always take place in the semi-darkness, and those outside, in a very harsh light. Inside the house, the directors constructed claustras (slatted partitions) and points of light which, by contrast, suggest areas of shadow and a lot of backlighting. The exterior becomes like a breakthrough of sun. For Fus and Louis, the only possible future – finding the light – is to leave the house.
What to Do
Still within the idea of contrast, there is Pierre’s behavior, which constantly oscillates between two thoughts: “This son is still the way I’ve always known him” and “No, he has changed and is drifting away.” It’s like a wave. Will there be a break? At what point will the father give up? Is reconciliation still possible after a fight? Arguments punctuate the film, as do the power dynamics, embodied by the central staircase of this house. Who is up? Who is down?
Fus (Benjamin Voisin) et Louis (Stefan Crepon)
Pierre tries to be a good father, which is why he keeps wondering what he missed with Fus. But ultimately, are we responsible for what our children do? The question remains unanswered.
Also, the film raises a daring question. Is parental love as unconditional as they say! In an effective performance, Vincent Lindon keeps the viewer in a state of uncertainty about these questions.
A little more…
In recent years, we have seen many films about the radicalization of Muslim youth. But the radical commitment toward the far-right has been filmed much less often. And in a French context where the far-right is taking up more and more space, we can say that the story of Pierre, who no longer recognizes his son, is that of an entire country. People who knew the France of the 1990s no longer recognize their country.
(c) 2024 Felicita – Curiosa Films – France 3 Cinema
What the film does not answer, however, is why. They say that for almost always, each generation lives better than the previous one. But today, things have reversed. Is the extremist vote linked to this very strong feeling of injustice! We get the impression that the film wants to go there, but doesn’t dare.
Another point that bothered me, and this one is more important, is the time jumps. At just under 2 hours, one could say the film is long. But the jumps we see twice in the film suggest that it is, in fact, too short. To avoid spoiling the experience for those who will see the film, I won’t go into detail. But these short jumps in time harm the film. The viewer disconnects and wonders how we finally got there. The changes are too great not to be explained in one way or another.
But despite these two more negative points, The Quiet Son remains a very good political film.
The Quiet Son is presented at the Cinefranco festival on November 14, 2025.
