Cannes Review: Red Rocks Showcases Bruno Dumont in His Most Unusually Tender Form

      Viewed through the lens of a child, the French Riviera appears as a paradise on Earth. For the trio central to Bruno Dumont’s Red Rocks—Geo (Kaylon Lancel), Manon (Louise Podolski), and Rouben (Mohamed Coly)—their small town represents their entire world, filled with new adventures each day as they ride dirt bikes along the coast or discover new heights to leap from into the water. Their parents are never seen; these five-year-olds explore the vastness of their town without any adult supervision. The first encounter with an unnamed adult has him bemoaning over the phone about the closure of most bars and clubs, lamenting the lack of culture or nightlife beyond the beach itself. Each time Dumont shows a train passing above, it evokes the sense of adults vacating a town that has ceased to be a playground for them. Suddenly, the children’s isolation becomes much clearer.

      Transitioning from his usual Northern France to a sunnier southern locale, Red Rocks showcases Dumont in an unusually gentle light, albeit with an ever-present risk of a violent incident occurring whenever the kids leap into the sea. Given the director's recent shift toward lowbrow genre parodies, there was a lingering expectation that the film might resemble the British public safety shorts of the 1970s, which depicted children meeting grisly fates as cautionary tales about playing in dangerous areas. Instead, the film hints at an evolution for the director, moving away from high-concept narratives back to the Bressonian style of his earlier works, though with a brighter outlook.

      Dumont’s tendency to work with non-professional actors—often favoring those with physical disabilities or discomfort in front of the camera—has drawn criticism that he exploits his performers. Although any project involving child actors, especially at this young age, may invite such scrutiny, the director effectively utilizes this inherent tension more successfully than in his past films. Lancel, the young lead, often struggles to mask his unrest through facial tics, enriching his character beyond the limited script. The dialogue seems heavily improvised, filled with awkward silences, as the children cannot maintain a conversation longer than a few sentences. Understanding the limitations of such young non-professional actors, Dumont instead uses their visible discomfort as a means to convey feelings they cannot yet articulate. This approach leads to a genuine portrayal of childhood psychology at this age, despite the contradiction of a child actor who is clearly aware of the camera’s presence.

      As Red Rocks unfolds, the main trio encounters a new group of three rock-jumping children: Eve (Kelsie Verdeilles), B (Alessandro Piqeura), and Do (Meryl Piles). The relationship between Eve and B quickly complicates when Eve meets Geo, leading to a love triangle where rumors of B’s jealousy circulate within their friend group. This segment of the film—which shifts from naturalistic drama to comedic sketches reminiscent of melodramatic soap operas—feels like Dumont succumbing to the lazier tendencies of his recent works, although thankfully it retains a distinct identity from his earlier exploits associated with New French Extremity. The relationships among these children are sweetly innocent (with hugs symbolizing romance), but the dialogue heavily relies on clichés surrounding conflicts between Geo and the boy who claims to have "stolen" his girlfriend, detracting from a more perceptive portrayal of early childhood.

      When Geo and Eve break away from their friends to explore independently, Dumont captures a more authentically youthful energy. With the childlike perspective provided by cinematographer Carlos Alfonso Corral (who previously worked on Roberto Minervini’s The Damned), the scenes become a study in controlled chaos, allowing the children to be themselves; in a lengthy shot on Eve’s parents’ driveway, they tire themselves out running back and forth while attempting to coax the family dog to join them. During a later outing, the chemistry between the two actors has blossomed, resulting in more spontaneous behavior—rather than manipulating his leads, Dumont seems to let their untamed energy propel the narrative, moving seamlessly from one scene to another. This is contrasted by Corral’s extreme close-ups of Geo sitting, evoking a sense of claustrophobia and discomfort within the frame. He is too young to realize his desire to escape the limits of this town, yet the film's structure intuitively recognizes that this young actor is happiest when exploring the wider world and is given the freedom to roam.

      If it weren't for the cliché-ridden love triangle plot—a misguided effort to impose a structured narrative onto what is essentially a slice-of-life drama—Red Rocks would stand as Dumont’s most successful collaboration with non-professional actors, as well as one of the most genuine portrayals of childhood seen in recent times. While it doesn't fully reach that level of greatness, it still represents a significant advancement for a director nearing his fourth decade in the industry.

      Red Rocks debuted