THE STORY – Newly elected French president Paul Archambault is called to Jupiter anti-atomic bunker located beneath the Élysée Palace to deal with an international crisis. The Russian president has been the victim of an assassination attempt, blames the Ukrainians and prepares to retaliate. Tension escalates and nuclear war looms: Paul Archambault and his political and military advisors face an impossible decision.
The fate of humanity is at stake.
THE CAST – Denis Menochet, André Dussollier, Reda Kateb, Dominique Blanc, Ella Rumpf, Frédéric Pierrot, Céline Sallette, Cédric Kahn & Jérémy Lopez
THE TEAM – Alexandre Smia (Director) and Thomas Finkielkraut & Alexandre Smia (Writers)
THE RUNNING TIME – 87 Minutes
Just one year after Kathryn Bigelow’s “A House of Dynamite” turned the possibility of nuclear catastrophe into a gripping exercise in escalating tension at Venice Film Festival, another political thriller arrives with atomic annihilation on its mind. First-time director Alexandre Smia’s “Jupiter” approaches similar territory from a different perspective. Rather than focusing on how governments respond to a nuclear weapon already in motion, the film places itself alongside the person who may ultimately have to decide whether one should be launched at all. It’s a solid and unnervingly plausible political thriller, elevated by Denis Ménochet’s restrained performance and a commitment to realism that makes its hypothetical crisis feel alarmingly possible.
Ménochet stars as Paul Archambault, the newly elected president of France, who has barely settled into office when he is confronted with the most consequential decision imaginable. Following an assassination attempt on the Russian president, Ukraine is blamed, and the threat of retaliation pushes Europe toward a potentially catastrophic escalation. Archambault is summoned to “Jupiter,” the underground command center where France’s most serious military decisions are made, and surrounded by advisors attempting to determine how the country should respond.
Smia establishes the gravity of the situation without much embellishment. Phones are surrendered before entering secure areas, protocols are carefully explained and decisions that could determine the fate of millions are discussed around tables in stark rooms. The camera rarely leaves Archambault, following him through the bunker and keeping the audience almost entirely tied to his experience of the crisis. It creates an effectively claustrophobic atmosphere as the number of available options becomes smaller while their potential consequences become greater.
The realism is easily the film’s greatest asset. “Jupiter” rarely feels interested in behaving like a conventional disaster movie, and there is little spectacle in Smia’s depiction of potential nuclear war. Instead, the tension comes from watching politicians and military officials debate what amounts to an impossible decision. The fictional Russian president even bears an unmistakable resemblance to Vladimir Putin, further narrowing the distance between the film’s scenario and contemporary reality. At a moment when nuclear escalation has once again entered serious geopolitical conversations, the central “what if?” becomes increasingly uncomfortable to consider.
Ménochet proves an effective anchor throughout. Archambault is deliberately difficult to read, maintaining the rigid composure expected of a president while gradually revealing the desperation underneath. Smia frequently keeps the camera close to his face, allowing small changes in his expression to communicate the pressure accumulating around him. Ménochet is particularly strong when that controlled exterior begins to falter, giving the character a melancholy quality that contrasts with the authority of his position.
Some of the film’s quieter images are among its most effective. Archambault moves through an almost eerily empty and darkened presidential palace, while his attempts to reach his wife and daughter provide brief glimpses of the personal life being interrupted by the crisis. These moments help ground a scenario otherwise dominated by military terminology and political strategy. For all the extraordinary power placed in Archambault’s hands, Ménochet makes him appear increasingly isolated by it.
However, “Jupiter” occasionally becomes too committed to maintaining its sense of urgency. Information arrives rapidly, heated discussions follow one another, and new developments repeatedly alter the situation before there is much opportunity to process the previous one. This breathlessness is clearly intentional and effectively reflects the pressure under which Archambault is operating. Still, the film could have benefited from slowing down occasionally. Allowing certain decisions and revelations to linger might have given them greater emotional weight.
This is also where comparisons to “A House of Dynamite” become difficult to avoid. Both films derive their tension from the terrifying mechanics of nuclear decision-making and the uncertainty surrounding choices that cannot be reversed. “Jupiter” is less gripping and formally accomplished than Bigelow’s film, but Smia’s colder, more restrained approach gives it its own identity. The focus is not so much on the machinery surrounding an impending catastrophe as on the individual sitting at its center.
As a debut feature, “Jupiter” is nevertheless impressively controlled. Smia understands that the possibility of nuclear war hardly requires exaggeration to become frightening, and the film is at its strongest when simply observing how frighteningly ordinary the process surrounding an extraordinary decision can appear. Its relentless pacing occasionally prevents the material from landing with the emotional force it might otherwise achieve, but Ménochet remains a compelling presence throughout.
The film ultimately works because its fictional scenario never feels comfortably fictional. Smia delivers a solid, tense political thriller without relying on easy dramatic shortcuts, grounding the threat of nuclear escalation in procedure rather than spectacle. It may not reach the gripping heights of other films with a similar premise, but its cold realism leaves behind an unsettling question: if such a moment actually arrived, would those responsible for deciding humanity’s fate have any idea what the right decision was?
