Luc Bricault

Luc Bricault’s filmography is basically a crash course in modern French cinema with a twist—his stuff never quite fits the mold you expect. In “Paris, je t’aime,” he’s part of this wild, patchwork love letter to the city. Each segment’s a little story—sometimes dreamy, sometimes heartbreaking, sometimes just plain odd. The film bounces from one Parisian arrondissement to another, showing off all the layered, messy, gorgeous ways people collide, fall apart, and maybe, if they’re lucky, find a little magic. It’s got that classic French vibe, but there’s always this wink—like, yeah, we know love’s complicated, get over it. Then there’s “Qu’est-ce qu’on a fait au bon Dieu?”—which, okay, blew up in France for a reason. The story’s about a super traditional Catholic couple whose daughters marry men from wildly different backgrounds: Jewish, Chinese, Muslim, you name it. Cue chaos, awkward family dinners, and more than a few jokes that’ll make you snort-laugh or cringe (or both). It’s sharp, it’s sometimes a little too real, and it actually says something about living in a melting pot, without getting preachy. Now, “Harry, Un Ami Qui Vous Veut Du Bien” is a whole different beast. This one’s a slow-burn psychological thriller with a dark sense of humor. Harry rolls into a family’s life, claiming to be an old friend. He’s helpful—maybe a little too helpful. Things get... unsettling, fast. The film just toys with you, pushing the boundaries of trust and paranoia, until you’re not totally sure who’s the real monster here. Bricault’s choices always keep things unpredictable, making these movies way more than just popcorn flicks.