Jérémie (Félix Kysyl), the protagonist of French writer-director Alain Guiraudie’s Misericordia, returns to his small hometown. He’s there to mourn the town baker, his presence comforting the latter’s wife Martine (Catherine Frot). Her burly son Vincent (Jean-Baptiste Durand) doesn’t feel the same way so he keeps surprising Jérémie with violence. Having had enough, he defends himself by killing Vincent, a crime that everybody in town knows about. The whole town knows about it just like they know that he loves the former town baker. And the strangest part is that they all want to help him get away with the crime.

What I like about Misericordia is how its shoots scenes where people have conversations with intimacy. The actors here are looking almost directly at the camera, adding to the film’s intentional comedic effect. It’s also perfect for a film where a murder somehow repairs Jérémie’s relationships with other characters. He reconnects with his estranged frenemy Walter (David Ayala), the latter realising his desirability through Jérémie’s renewed presence. The priest, Philippe (Jacques Develay), keeps popping up even when Vincent was alive, harassing Jérémie. The excuses that both Philippe and Vincent have for cruising in the woods is hilarious to me. 

Misericordia‘s second half puts Jérémie’s relationship with Philippe to the forefront, exposing power dynamics between them. Martine asks Jérémie about his romantic feelings for her late baker husband. I have complex feelings about people knowing things about each other which makes watching this much deeper.