★★★★★★☆☆☆☆ (6/10)

Jean-Baptiste Durand’s Junkyard Dog (Chien de la Casse) is a simmering study of friendship, masculinity, and power, set against the stifling stillness of rural France. The film transports viewers to a small, forgotten village in the South, where life moves at a glacial pace, and dreams feel as distant as the horizon. Within this setting, the film dissects the fragile and often fraught bond between two best friends, Damian (Anthony Bajon) and Mirales (Raphaël Quenard).

Damian, nicknamed “Dog” by Mirales, exists in the shadow of his larger-than-life companion. Mirales, the charismatic and domineering town drug dealer, exerts an almost magnetic control over Damian, treating him with a mix of camaraderie and quiet condescension. Their unspoken power dynamic, as well as Damian’s growing restlessness, is tested when Elsa (Galatéa Bellugi), a visitor from the city, becomes Damian’s girlfriend for a brief but transformative period.

Elsa’s presence disrupts the stagnant rhythm of the two friends’ lives. Her relationship with Damian highlights his yearning for independence and a sense of identity beyond his friendship with Mirales. As tensions escalate, the fragile bonds of their friendship begin to fray, revealing the unspoken hierarchies and suppressed emotions that have long defined their relationship. For Damian, the arrival of Elsa offers a glimmer of possibility outside his confined world, while for Mirales, it triggers jealousy and a fear of losing his hold over his friend.

Durand crafts this tale with a light but assured touch, favoring understated realism over melodrama. The film’s dialogue is simple and unadorned, allowing the silences and gestures to carry weight. Visually, Junkyard Dog captures the monotony and quiet beauty of rural life, with its dusty streets and weathered facades serving as a backdrop for the characters’ simmering inner conflicts.

The performances elevate this quiet drama into something extraordinary. Raphaël Quenard delivers a standout turn as Mirales, oscillating between charm and menace, while Anthony Bajon’s restrained portrayal of Damian speaks volumes in its subtlety. Galatéa Bellugi brings warmth and complexity to Elsa, a character whose brief presence leaves an indelible mark on the story. Together, they create a portrait of relationships that is as tender as it is volatile.

At its core, Junkyard Dog is a meditation on modern masculinity and the complicated nature of male bonds. It captures the suffocating realities of rural youth while probing universal questions about power, vulnerability, and self-discovery. Jean-Baptiste Durand doesn’t offer any easy answers, but his film lingers in the mind, a quiet storm of emotions that demands to be unpacked long after the credits roll.