The Stranger (dir. François Ozon)

by Jack Martin | Apr 9, 2026

Certificate: 15

Running Time: 122 mins

UK Distributor: Curzon

UK Release Date: 10 April 2026

WHO’S IN THE STRANGER?

Benjamin Voisin, Rebecca Marder, Pierre Lottin, Denis Lavant, Swann Arlaud, Mireille Perrier, Christophe Malavoy, Nicolas Vaude, Jean-Charles Clichet, Hajar Bouzaouit

WHO’S BEHIND THE CAMERA?

François Ozon (director, writer, producer), Fatima Al Qadiri (composer), Manu Dacosse (cinematographer), Clément Selitzki (editor)

WHAT’S IT ABOUT?

In 1930s Algeria, an apathetic man (Voisin) has a fateful beach encounter…

WHAT ARE MY THOUGHTS ON THE STRANGER?

I’m surprised that it’s taken me this long to finally, properly take a look at a François Ozon film. The French filmmaker has been churning out movies non-stop for the last near-thirty years of his career, many of which I’ve highlighted in previous Movie Menus and one or two I’ve even reviewed in the past. Yet, for the most part, I’ve not been as keen to seek out his work, even though the last few years have been especially busy for Ozon as he’s been releasing one film per annum since 2019’s By the Grace of God, effectively making him the Woody Allen of French cinema (minus the alleged icky stuff).

But I had to make an exception for The Stranger. Though I have not read the classic 1942 novella by Albert Camus on which Ozon’s film is based, this one intrigued me more than a lot of his other films in recent years because its central moral conflict, much of it having to do with the protagonist’s borderline remarkable apathy, seemed as though it was aching for analysis from a neurodivergent perspective. As an autistic man, I therefore seek to look at Ozon’s adaptation, which is already a gorgeously made and strikingly complex slow-burn of a Patricia Highsmith-esque psychological thriller, through a lens that may possibly explain both the fascination with and the condemnation of being so mysteriously void of emotion.

Said protagonist is Meursault (Benjamin Voisin), a young man in 1930s French-occupied Algiers who we first meet being hurled into a prison cell for the crime of murdering an indigenous Arab man. Flash back to some days prior when Meursault receives news from a remote care home that his mother has died, yet despite travelling all the way there for her funeral, he’s incapable of expressing any emotion whatsoever. He doesn’t even want to see his mother’s body before the coffin is nailed shut, let alone shed a tear during the actual service. After returning home, he reconnects with former flame Marie Cardona (Rebecca Marder) at a local beach and takes her on an impromptu date to a comedy at the cinema, and idly stands by while his friend Raymond Sintès (Pierre Lottin) brutally abuses his mistress Djemila (Hajar Bouzaouti) and elderly neighbour Salamano (Denis Lavat) is horribly mistreating his dog, all while again displaying no real affection or any kind of emotional reaction.

Which makes the crime that he will soon be incarcerated and tried for all the more surprising. There’s no denying he did it, the moment itself unfolding so casually with, once more, the complete lack of expression across his face, but everyone around him, be they lovers or acquaintances or his own defence lawyer, is eager to find out why he’d do such a thing. The only person who may know for certain is Meursault himself, but even then, he’s in no rush to explain his motives to anyone, leaving his apparent lack of remorse to be the key factor that prosecutors use to paint him as a cold-blooded, psychopathic killer. What the viewer is left to ask themselves is whether or not he truly is a sociopath or just socially awkward, a question that isn’t explicitly answered in neither Ozon’s adaptation nor the original text, but nonetheless raises some interesting theories, especially those that introduce neurodivergence to the central argument.

To immediately dispel one myth surrounding autistic people, one that is unfortunately perpetuated by popular examples within media such as Sheldon Cooper from The Big Bang Theory, we are not incapable of expressing emotion. Empathy is very much within our grasp, but it is very difficult to express them as easily as others might, and often we try twice as hard via other unconventional means to let our feelings known (a phenomenon that Dr. Damian Milton has coined as “double empathy”). Relating back to The Stranger and how Ozon writes his lead character in a similar fashion to how Camus originally conceived him, there are parallels between double empathy and how Meursault behaves all throughout, his emotional detachment perhaps coming from a place of uncertainty surrounding his own feelings, similar to what autistic people can go through when put in overwhelming situations. It is likely mere coincidence that the character displays certain neurodivergent traits as these, especially given the time period in which Camus originally conceived this text, but regardless it is fascinating to assess Meursault’s situation as a potential example of misjudging one’s autistic traits for something far more cold and heartless, even though there’s no question surrounding his actual guilt.

Examining the film from a more critical perspective, The Stranger is compelling filmic storytelling that intriguingly supports my theory of it being a possible allegory for autism. Both Ozon and cinematographer Manu Dacosse shoot the entire film in stark monochrome, literally creating a black-and-white scenario on the surface, yet there are extremely faint hints of blue when one looks a little closer at the screen which suggest there is some colour within our main character that is fighting the senses to be seen and heard. Now, it’s entirely possible that this may have been due to a projection issue at my screening, so feel free to correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m choosing to believe this was Ozon’s intention the whole time.

Furthermore, Voisin’s sternly controlled lead performance occasionally drops light hints of Meursault’s humanity seeping through as much as those blue-tinted hues appear to be, but always keeps his cards close to the chest when it comes to the character’s ultimate thoughts, which are only ever revealed through two carefully selected inner monologues lifted directly from the narration in the original book. In doing so, Voisin brings to life a person who to some may be defined by his seeming lack of empathy but may in fact just be psychologically misunderstood, particularly when overarching themes of nihilism seep into the conversation during a rather dramatic confrontation in the film’s closing moments.

Not everything about The Stranger works, for a well-intentioned layer examining the French colonialist attitudes toward the indigenous citizens of this area feels just a little too crowbarred in, and sometimes the film can feel a bit too slow-paced for its own good. But there are some deeply fascinating arguments to be made in how it conveys a historical misunderstanding of the double empathy problem within neurodivergent people that could have sealed the fate of so many other people like Meursault throughout history, which may well have not been the intent but nonetheless make it interesting to talk about from that oft-underutilised perspective.

SO, TO SUM UP…

The Stranger is a fascinating psychological thriller with some striking monochrome cinematography and a gentle if slightly lethargic slow-burn pace by filmmaker François Ozon, but examined from a more neurodivergent perspective it becomes a possible allegory for the misunderstanding of autistic people’s struggles with overall emotional output.