Earth and Blood

Julien Leclercq spends a lot of time cruising at idle speed here and Earth and Blood is more like a formal exercise on the topic of depressing stylisation of the French countryside on the model of Francophone horror movies than was the case with his previous stylish action flicks. Beyond the colour palette and light sound elements of the director’s typical third-person shots, we find here very few of the peculiarities and ambitions that previously characterised Leclercq and made him the hope of European genre cinema. (05/17/2020)

The ratings at this site were putting me off, but I’ve generally enjoyed the French way of making films about their crime scene, which emerged about 1960. So I told myself that I’d give this film a try. What I got was a strange thriller, rather brutal, which works to its advantage, plus it seems like someone found a bunch of immigrants to kill like vermin in front of the cameras. And whether that is an advantage or not is a question you have to answer for yourself. As for me, it’s a brutal but interesting piece. (04/27/2020)

A film with no real story, but I have to admit it didn’t bother me that much. Sure, it’s a shame that Julien Leclercq didn’t delve more into the main character to allow the audience to develop some sympathy for him. On the other hand, with a runtime of only 80 minutes, character development isn’t exactly on the agenda. Earth and Blood has a bleak atmosphere, delivering that detached, pessimistic view that the French do so well, where there’s little to criticize. The first half is more of a buildup, as many viewers would say, setting the stage. Then comes a solid chase scene set in the attractive setting of a sawmill in the woods, which is a rare sight in films. Sami Bouajila doesn’t speak much, but he exudes charisma. The script has some rough patches, with the actions of both antagonists and protagonists not always making sense. The ending is quite decent, and in the second half, the audience is treated to some brutal gore. It's worth a single watch. For me, it’s 6/10. (03/14/2021)