THE STORY – Étienne is a lorry driver. Fastened to the road, his love life is reduced to fleeting, nameless encounters in parking lots. When he meets Bartosz, a Polish lorry driver, his loneliness is turned upside down.
THE CAST – Alexis Manenti & Julian Świeżewski
THE TEAM – Pierre Le Gall (Director/Co-Writer), Camille Perton & Martin Drouot (Co-Writers)
THE RUNNING TIME – 90 Minutes
It’s a great time to be a yearner. “Heated Rivalry” hasn’t left the cultural consciousness since its premiere last fall. Emerald Fennell’s big screen adaptation of “Wuthering Heights” was a huge hit. Hell, even the Criterion Channel recently got in on the action, with a curated series called “Yearning” on their streaming service. Fans of the concepts of longing, pining, and other lovelorn verbs will find just what they’re looking for with Pierre le Gall’s beautiful film “Made Of Flesh And Fuel.” Don’t let the lascivious-sounding title fool you (the French title is more evocative: “Du fioul dans les artères” or, approximately, “Fuel in the Veins”), this is first and foremost a romance, set in a totally unexpected world, bursting with heartbreaking beauty as it tells the story of two men drawn together by coincidence and continually pulled apart by the realities of our uncaring world.
Our central figure is Étienne (Alexis Manenti), a French truck driver who spends most of his life on the go, carting goods and materials from place to place. Like many in the transportation industry, he spends his days driving and his nights at less-than-glamorous truck stops. At one of these transient spots, he meets Bartosz (Julian Świeżewski), a fellow driver from Poland. As with many modern-day gay connections, their very first interaction is purely sexual. But after avoiding arrest for cruising, thanks to Bartosz’s quick thinking, the two form a deeper connection. They do their best to meet up whenever their trade routes overlap, their burgeoning courtship entirely at the mercy of their employers’ needs. For Étienne, this becomes increasingly more difficult as his connection to Bartosz grows stronger and more intimate.
A tale of a gay pairing kept apart by circumstances is certainly nothing new. But two elements separate “Made Of Flesh And Fuel” from other films of its ilk. First, the given circumstances of the characters’ lives have been less commonly explored. The hyper-masculine, blue-collar environment of long-distance trucking is a setting closer to that of “Brokeback Mountain” than “Call Me By Your Name.” But, perhaps surprisingly, this isn’t yet another story predicated around a queer character in the closet, afraid to reveal their truth. Étienne’s sexuality is known to those around him, and it’s simply a non-issue. This allows “Made Of Flesh And Fuel” to skip past certain plot points that are often a major source of drama in queer-centric films. Such tales are still worthy of being told, and always will be as long as the world remains hostile to LGBT folks, but queer stories can extend far beyond the closet, as this film does. Here, the main character’s journey is one of self-discovery rather than sexual discovery. He already knows what he wants; now he has to figure out how he wants it. Similarly, the factors that threaten the couple’s togetherness aren’t individuals but rather structures. Here, no one person stands in their way. Instead, the realities of a commerce-centric world that forces people to put anything that doesn’t make them money on the back burner (combined with the fact that the two men’s jobs necessitate long-distance relationships with everyone in their lives) are the closest thing this film has to an antagonist.
Making his feature directorial debut, Pierre le Gall shows a mastery of tone. Despite taking place in a gruff, unpolished environment, “Made Of Flesh And Fuel” feels lush and sentimental. Paul Sabin’s score, which occasionally makes use of sweeping wind instruments, adds to this romantic mood. This mirrors Étienne’s energy; although he’s a reserved individual, he clearly has the heart of a lover, as if the film’s gorgeous music is rattling around inside him. Le Gall depicts the ships-in-the-night manner of the central love affair through painfully beautiful set pieces, often emphasizing the difficulty of their situation by using vehicles as visual impediments. The huge propulsive machinery keeps them apart, with their only means of communication restricted to the airwaves. “Made Of Flesh And Fuel” is filled with chest-clutching sequences that are simply exquisite in their sadness, while never feeling morose.
As Étienne, Alexis Manenti is compellingly sympathetic. His grounded physicality is appropriately constricted, with his constantly moving eyes both scanning for danger and emoting for him. On the other hand, Julian Świeżewski is warm and gregarious as Bartosz. One of the first times we see him is when he’s using his affable personality to charm his way out of a difficult situation and simultaneously into Étienne’s heart. Świeżewski makes for a believable object of Étienne’s affection, and together, they’re the kind of couple that’s impossible not to root for.
“Made Of Flesh And Fuel” depicts a group of workers who struggle to stay still. One of Étienne’s colleagues even struggles with retirement, unable to make peace with quietude. Étienne has a similar difficulty accepting the delightful complacency that a more permanent bond with Bartosz would bring. Making a grounded connection is tough for him, which only makes the acceptance the audience longs to see him realize feel more and more necessary. It’s a deeply moving, gorgeous story about the unexpected power of love to literally drive us down the most unpredictable roads.
