Flesh and Fuel (2026) ‘Cannes’ Movie Review: Alexis Manenti Excels in Pierre le Gall’s Melancholic Cross-Country Romance

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Queer cinema has come a long way since its early days on celluloid. For years, the space was populated by stories about people coming out. It might have been a depiction closer to their lives at a certain point in our collective history, but over time, these stories seemed to follow a certain narrative arc. It may have to do with the writers or filmmakers of such projects not being part of the community and therefore not understanding the nuances of their experiences. No matter what, it left so much to be desired. The characters’ interiority seemed lost in such stories that followed stereotypes to fit them in an archetypal plot.

Pierre le Gall’s “Flesh and Fuel” (Original title: Du fioul dans les artères, 2026) differs in the sense that it doesn’t lean on the usual conflicts about queer characters explored on screen. The script explores the characters’ longing in a contemporary context while analyzing the socio-cultural differences that put them at different points of privilege in some scenarios. Étienne (Alexis Manenti), the protagonist of the film, is a French trucker who spends most of his days on the road. Bartosz (Julian Swiezewski) plays the man he meets one day after his work. Unlike Étienne, Bartosz is a Polish migrant working in the same profession to make a living.

Bartosz’s arrival is placed as an inciting incident in the script, leading Étienne on a journey of self-reflection and discovery. Until then, he is introduced as someone with almost no social life. Yet, the film doesn’t paint his arc through layers of isolation or misery. He seems content in dedicating all his time to work, even if that leaves him with no time with his family or friends. So, even if the film doesn’t explore his past, it introduces him almost as someone who has made peace with his mode of life. Long hours or labor-intensive work don’t bother him. At least it doesn’t seem so.

Either he doesn’t mind the grueling nature of his work, or he is simply too good at hiding his emotions. It remains a mystery for the most part. It’s only after meeting Bartosz that he begins to reveal his emotional core. They lock eyes and find a connection that plays into the cliches of romance. It relies on the feeling that you get when you realize what you’ve been missing in your life, only when you meet a special someone. While a genre cliche, Le Gall captures it with so much love and respect that it doesn’t become saccharine. Instead, it becomes a way to analyze intimacy, yearning, and fleshly desires from Étienne’s perspective.

Étienne remains a fascinating protagonist in this context because his interiority remains a mystery. While not shy or anxious in his professional life, he comes across as someone who shares only what he needs to in any given situation. The film offers only a glimpse or two into his emotional landscape, revealing his sense of responsibility and composure as a mid-level management employee that others can depend on. Bartosz essentially becomes a catalyst in his emotional growth, offering a window into his temptations and frustrations, while making his brokenness appear through the cracks. It’s a charming way to explore Bartosz’s impact on him.

Through that, the film explores just how valuable a genuine emotional connection can be to realize parts of yourselves that you didn’t know even existed. Director Ie Gall makes even these platitudes feel lively and organic within the context he presents his two characters. So, even while tapping into the known genre beats, he captures the magically unnerving hold of someone’s presence in a romantic bond. His film is a deeply felt portrait of longing and physical connection, akin to Wong Kar-wai’s “Happy Together,” even though it doesn’t quite reach the emotional heights that Wong’s film does. That’s where the film’s issues lie.

“Flesh and Fuel” doesn’t have much to say beyond its emotional tale. It portrays Étienne’s overbearing desperation and ennui with precision, thanks to Manenti’s remarkable performance. Yet, it doesn’t take those emotional cues further to flesh out Étienne and Bartosz’s stress-inducing working situation or their socio-economic differences.

The script does highlight the glaring pay gap between migrants and residents, but it never expands on that front or utilizes those themes to analyze their differences in a broader context. It also doesn’t explore the effects of toxic ‘grind culture’ besides hinting at its effect on workers’ emotional state, leading them to be emotionally stunted or needlessly stoic. Those thematic shortcomings pull it back from being a memorable affair, even if it’s an endearing and vastly resonating one that would strike a chord with anyone with a romantic bone.