L'Homme qui n'existait pas #[nn]

A woman in a rust-colored coat sits pensively in a director's chair on what appears to be a film set, while a tall, shadowy man with dark glasses looms behind her beneath a clapperboard marked "15" — a quietly unsettling composition that perfectly suits the title, L'Homme qui n'existait pas ("The Man Who Didn't Exist"). Cyril Bonin's muted, cinematic palette of teal and amber gives the 2012 Futuropolis release an atmospheric noir quality that feels like a lost French thriller waiting to be rediscovered. The interplay between the woman's guarded expression and the enigmatic figure behind her makes this one hard to set aside.