狼族盟约

可以说百忙之中，偷得半日闲看了这部电影。

看完之后感觉挺震撼的，本来以为只是为剧中的氛围感染而已，谁知久久不能平静。

还有一大堆工作要做，可是心中涌动着一种莫名的情愫，促使我必须写点什么。

剧中浪漫的情境，美丽的景色，离奇的情节，恐怖的氛围，对精致浮华的上流社会的描绘，及对政治宗教深刻的讽刺等等不作多讲，单讲玛丽安的哥哥，剧中第一大反派。

无疑，他是变态和邪恶的，但是他那阴鹜的眼神与桀骜的行为，带着上流贵族的高贵在一开始就深深吸引了我。

加上他在非洲游历失去了一条臂膀，自制猎枪，使用银弹以在猎物身上留下自己“独特的印记”，无一不昭示着这是一个坚毅果敢，桀骜不驯的人，正是由此才使他具有了致命的吸引力。

看到一半的时候，我就猜测他是幕后boss，果然不出所料。

但是最后决战的时候，按照正义必会战胜邪恶的套路，他还是没有逃脱死亡的结局。

如果不是剧情的需要，这样一个强悍的人绝不会被男主角三下五下干死。

唉，可悲可叹!当然，最后，他对妹妹玛丽安的禁忌之恋及他对其实施的暴行，将他邪恶的一面展现到了极致。

但是我却认为，正是由于他在这段畸形爱恋之中表现出的痛苦和脆弱，恰恰反映了他人性中的真、善的一面。

别管他爱的是谁，别管他对其他人怎样，在爱情中，他也是一个容易受伤的普通人，对比之他的邪恶冷血，更显示出他对玛丽安的真挚情感。

至于他爱上谁不好，偏偏爱上了自己的亲妹妹，我只能说是上帝对他的惩罚了，因为在面对自己所爱的人时，人是没有选择权的。

但正是在这禁忌之爱面前，才显得他所受折磨之深刻，他的灵魂之脆弱，他的感情之真挚，至死，他想的也不过可以和玛丽安永远在一起了，对他未必不是一种解脱。

想起了一部电影中的一句话，小时候妈妈带我去看白雪公主，人人都爱上了美丽的白雪公主，我却爱上了老巫婆。

看了这部电影，我竟有类似的感受，不是爱上正义的骑士，却爱上了邪恶的哥哥。

不知道广大的豆友有没有人有跟我一样的感受。

剧情不太连贯其实，有点烧脑。

我看完之后恶补了一下背景才大概串起故事的脉络。

开篇是在大雨中赶路的骑士和他的朋友救了被误认为是女巫的医生一家，此处骑士的朋友的眉目令人印象深刻。

后文展开，才知道这个人是个印第安人，曾经是部落巫师，后因被灭族而随骑士浪迹四方。

他神秘的印第安治疗术、身上的印第安花纹以及矫健的身手都使他看起来比主角还要主角。

所以影片在英国背景下写一个印第安人是为了什么，我最初不明白。

后面巫师身死，主角涂着与他相似的部落纹进行复仇我才想明白。

这其实是对强权统治下摧毁其他殖民地区文明发展的一种谴责。

也突然明白了巫师在发现攻击自己的女郎正是自己曾经救过的人时的停顿：自己正在做的，对那个女郎来说不正是在摧毁她的家吗？

人总是要对其他区域的文明心存敬畏的，而不应简单将其归咎于野蛮。

正是因为同为“野蛮人”，巫师才能共情吉普赛女郎的处境吧。

主角的光环一度被配角掩盖，但是他也有自己的闪光点：他从不认为他的巫师朋友野蛮，也不会觉得白人就高人一等，更不会让不公平不公正的事情发生在眼前却视而不见。

正是因为他善良正直，博学幽默，才能吸引玛丽安，吸引那位厉害的弗罗伦萨女子。

故事总是那么老套，英雄也总是风流多情的，不过这样才符合传统对“骑士”这一形象的认识吧！

而且，此处事了拂衣去，带着心爱的人浪迹天涯，从此与世间一切烦恼都不沾边，这是多少人的梦想啊。

都在说配角抢了主角光环的，不太对，至少在这部侯爵的回忆录似的电影里面，他是由衷地羡慕骑士，就算巫师活着，在没有美女配英雄的情况下，他也不值得羡慕啊。

再结合他悲惨的身世，更没啥羡慕的了。

但是到底意难平。

听说每一个印第安部落的花纹都不一样，玛尼是他们部落唯一活下来的人，他的死意味着又有一片神秘的未经探寻的文明的陨落，这如何不令人叹息。

而且地狱空荡荡，恶魔在人间，践踏生命，罔顾人伦，以反抗为名行暴力之事，说到底都是肮脏的野心家。

这个择人而噬的野兽被除尽了，很快又有下一个野兽，电影最后一幕年迈的侯爵走下台阶，道路两旁站满了人，他每路过一个人都要被啐一口。

明明真正的野兽早已死去，却还有看不见的野兽，在挑唆在游荡，将愚昧的、无知的人聚集起来，追寻所谓的公平与正义。

虽然电影的画面很有美感，但我还是很遗憾为啥它不是一本书。

有的背景介绍和人物心理，真的只有看书才有感觉啊

啊，《狼族盟约》……啊，莫妮卡·贝鲁奇……啊，文森特·卡索……一部长达两个半小时的冗长的电影（还不知道有没有剪过），因着他们俩，闪着七彩的礼花^^莫妮卡·贝鲁奇这个性感尤物，作为同性的我都无法抵挡她的魅力……用刀子划破男猪的胸膛然后舔那带血的刀，煽情妖冶到一塌糊涂啊……迅速地展开铁扇杀死那个疯婆子再用极快的速度收回衣服里，真是杀手杀手杀杀手……文森特·卡索……这个变态的阴鸷的脆弱的迷人的超级大反派霹雳大恶人……真是华丽丽地吸引眼球啊……假残疾、训练怪兽杀人、乱伦、强奸……让·弗朗索瓦真真当得上“变态”这个词……最后还以那样的死法向被他杀死的深爱的妹妹玛丽安倾诉爱意……男猪赢了又怎样……亲爱的玛丽安在地狱里陪的可是哥哥让……（好吧这是我的愿望，玛丽安最后被印第安治疗术救活了）死前和男猪的对话：让：玛丽安，看啊！

（然后把刀子拉过来戳到自己肚子上）男猪：玛丽安不在这里！

笨蛋（笨的是你）让：你让我们可以永远在一起了（从这句话知道，其实怪兽不怪兽死不死对让来说都没有意义，他从头到尾都只要玛丽安一个……华丽丽的乱伦啊……）然后死时那没有闭上的眼睛，看那眼神，销魂啊……记住了让·弗朗索瓦的同时也记住了他的扮演者：文森特·卡索……《不可撤销》《公寓》《伊丽莎白》《秘密雇员》《圣女贞德》《仇恨》《太保密码》《暗流》《快感，或小小的麻烦》……还有他让全世界男人仇恨的一点：他是莫妮卡·贝鲁奇的老公！

其实那个印第安人马尼也是个萌点，但他死得太早了ORZ……所以不提了可怜的孩子，你是好样的……啊……现在看电影都没法萌主角了……尽看配角……

光看那海报都已经有那感觉了。

海报都那么 帅 当然电影也不会差到哪啦！

就这样的心理。

看了 Brotherhood of the Wolf ！

一开篇营造的氛围真的很不错。

野蛮人，怪物，弱小的，很好的对比。

还有，开篇在雨中小战那一场也是，很棒！

里面也不缺乏法国人的浪漫！

撒迪西第一次见到那为贵族小姐时候帮她解围那段就是极其浪漫搞笑的。

这部电影的 调子控制得很好！

难怪听到有人说，不看字幕只看画面就能明白电影表达的意思了。

整个故事编的也不错。

设计的服装还有涉及到的情节也是值得炫耀一下的...

影片一再强调.谎话说多了,说真了.就成了真理.就像国王与其弄臣的所为.可以把一只普普通通的狼变成一只怪兽.然后昭告天下.如果权威所说的就是真实.那末,这个就是真实.而真实的背后,随之而来的是一个妇女的惨叫,一条小狗的悲鸣.在政治的眼里,现实的怪兽已经死去.于是我们只能说,真正伤人的那只怪兽,其实是政治.那个只有一只手的男人.其实暗藏着一只手.就像每个人心里都藏着一怪兽,他的那只手其实就是怪兽."他训练着你,你训练着怪兽".怪兽.在这里成了心灵的一种附属.就像他的主人那只驱使它的手那般畸形.从这颗心,我们可以窥见一个兄长对其妹畸形的爱,一个臣子对权势畸形的迷恋.又或者,我们看到更多.只是不愿说出.带着几分诡异.影片从一部奇幻片向一部历史剧陡然转变.我们看到了一场世俗权力与教会权力之间的相争.看到了为此生灵的涂炭.就像目睹了一场与参战者本身无关的战争.而流血的,恰恰是参战者本身.如果舍弃影片里个人英雄的情结,舍弃复仇的价值标榜,舍弃骑士与公主的相遇相知相融.那末.这确实是一部历史剧.他用了整整两个半小时为我们讲述了一场关于怪兽的闹剧.而这只怪兽的名字,就是政治.http://hi.baidu.com/kutu2003/blog/item/e3cf51eec5d12cfdb3fb9578.html

微信公众号：shenshike-HK (心是主人身是客）＝＝＝这是一部容易错失的好看的法国片，云集了美国好莱坞大片的商业元素，美国牛仔片的兄弟情，中国功夫片的身手，法国贵族的风貌，印第安人的气质，教会和王权的冲突，人性和兽性的对比，还有《西西里的美丽传说》女主角莫尼卡贝鲁齐的胴体，……以法国人别致视角娓娓道来。

神秘、离奇、曲折、浪漫。

几年前看过，最近又看了一遍，还是觉得好看，值得推荐。

再次看毕电影，拿影碟封套细看，见后面印着一段“美文”介绍电影：神秘巨兽四出肆虐，死亡恐惧蔓延全城。

以斩魔情圣及战斧为首的狙魔特工队联同独臂枪及圣女骑士率大军追捕。

期间，斩魔情圣邂逅神秘美人铁扇妖姬，两人一夜缠绵……，其后，狙魔群英更被妖魔军团杀个措手不及，战斧浴血重创，独臂枪更被魔力入侵，欲侵犯圣女骑士……香港印制。

不禁莞尔，这下我总算明白了，为啥这部电影当时在香港没怎么引起重视。

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法国大片总爱跟邪教 打交道，暗流1，2如此，此片也如此。

翻来覆去的就是强调人性的恶大于野兽的恶。

有点烦，另外也太长了点，好多地方不知所云。

起初看到这部电影的名字的时候以为是讲述狼人的电影，看完了才发现不是。

一个组织让教会承认自己的地位，同时利用猛兽散布谣言迫使政府收缩力量，以发展自己的力量，最后影片仅仅说明了野兽是来自非洲的杂交品种，至于具体是什么已经无人可知。

看到后面才发现，所谓的狼族盟约与这个猛兽和这个组织没有任何关系，它是马尼与法兰沙之间互托生死的盟约。

无疑，这部作品有太多的中国元素:)当我跟同学看到神秘蒙面侠客早雨中大斗一帮地皮时,就争相猜测这是那路棍法。

我先说是少林棍法，然后同学说是丐帮打狗棒法，突然回忆前段时间看的《神雕》中黄蓉使的那路，才恍然大悟的确是得丐帮真传棍法归棍法，里面让我感到中国情调最深的还是贵族们狩猎打狼那段，骑士和贵族小姐林中奔马的几十秒钟，配上激情洋溢的音乐，活生生就是香港古装武侠的片段，只不过人物换成金发贵族，地点移到了则法兰西。

所有这些，都让我亲切。

欧美电影加上中国情调已经不是奇闻，何况是动作电影，没几个中国武指恐怕难成气候。

但或许是法国与中国文化中有着太多的共通之处，这部电影的法国味道依然浓烈，欧洲的骑士与我们的侠客本是同一人群的不同称呼而已，虽然骑士是有官方身份的，而我们的侠客却没有身份限制，只要你有一身好武艺与一腔路见不平拔刀相助的热血，海角天涯处处为家，谁人奈我何？

这不，骑士最后一走就去了非洲。

开始的时候我们都以为里面有很多科幻、神怪的东西，到最后才发现它跟科幻根本搭不到边，反而还把历史演示得头头是到，让人不得不相信这是的确发生过的野史，虽然这么大的祸害在正史里只记录到一半就盖过了。

最后法国大革命的镜头还是有着强硬的收尾风格，而不只是“他们最后过着幸福的生活”。

另外一点就是宗教。

同样让我想起《达芬奇密码》，不同的是“达”用虚构的大阴谋考验了宗教的力量，而这部电影却更像是以为历史人物勇敢得揭露自己的缺点与负面，最后还是回归到自己的主张。

宗教是没有对错的，但凡心可变。

最后，我们还是幸福得生活着。

R.I.P. Émilie Dequenne (1981-2025), the brilliant Belgian and the recipient of Best Actress award at Cannes for her first acting gig in Dardenne brothers' Palme d'or winner ROSETTA, has sadly succumbed to a rare cancer at a young age of 43. Dequenne is endowed with a superb knack for disappearing into a role, making her performances feel both instinctually naturalistic and uninhibitedly expressive. After ROSETTA catapults her status as a promising young thespian, her follow-up, Christophe Gans' BROTHERHOOD OF THE WOLF is an authentic Gallic blockbuster. A lush, genre-mashing period epic where Dequenne takes on a smaller but still intriguing part cannot be more different from the one in ROSETTA ROSETTA is a stripped-down, bare-bones exposé of underclass subsistence. It’s not trying to charm or entertain, but to make audience feel something real but also too close for comfort, regarding poverty, misery and struggle with no buffer between spectators in cushy seats and the relentless hardship on show. In short, a poverty porn in its most effective and acute fibers. The plot follows our titular heroine, a teenager living in a dreary caravan park with her alcoholic mother (Yernaux), scraping by on the edge of the society. Her sole hope is to find a stable job, and the only way to achieve that turns out to be a cruel zero-sum game, to heartlessly betray the kindness of Riquet (Rongione), a coworker who befriends her and throw him under the bus, especially after that cardinal scene where Rosetta hesitates while Riquet falls into the murky lake, flailing, in real danger of drowning. Rosetta's longer-than-it-is hesitation is brutal. It’s not cinematic suspense but ethical discomfort. The camera traces her face, and we can see the storm inside her: should she help him or not? And what’s devastating is that, for a few long seconds, she leans toward not. Not because she hates him, or because she’s evil, but because she’s desperate, beaten and exhausted. She knows that if he dies, the job at the waffle stand - the one lifeline she clings to - could be hers. This is one of the film’s most daring moves. The Dardennes refuse to protect Rosetta from her worst thoughts. They let her hover on the edge of some horrible thoughts: letting an innocent person die out of her personal economic desperation. It’s a moment that rips away any illusion of moral clarity. The world has taught Rosetta that survival is a ruthless game, that there is no room for compassion, only competition.But then she thinks better of it and rescues him. This action doesn't erase the hesitation. It doesn't redeem her in a neat way. But it does mark a crack in the hardened shell she's built around herself. It’s one of the few choices in the film that feels free - ungoverned by necessity, nor by the grim laws of a world where everything must be earned in pains. She chooses to save Riquet simply because, despite everything, a trace of moral instinct remains. That’s the genius of ROSETTA. It shows us that morality, especially in a world like that, is messy, costly, and sometimes even irrational. The fact that she nearly lets Riquet drown makes her human whereas the fact that she doesn’t makes her still worth rooting for. In a lesser film, this would be the redemptive climax. But Rosetta keeps going. It keeps grinding. The weight of survival doesn’t lift. But we, and Rosetta, are left with the memory of that decision - a moment when she could have been monstrous, and wasn’t. A reminder that even in the ugliest conditions, humanity clings on by its fingernails.The Dardennes’ approach is famously no-frills. Handheld cameras, natural lighting, and zero gloss over its milieu, a cinema-vérité style mixed with a stimulating guerrilla kinetics. The camera is almost invasive in how close it sticks to Rosetta, her face, her hands, her feet stomping through the mud. We barely get a second to breathe without being pulled into her smoldering rage and frustration of constantly getting the short end of the stick, her kept-to-herself tenacity, or the incessant pain from her period cramps. ROSETTA's focus on natural sound rather than a traditional score only adds to the Dardennes’ felicitous evocation of realism. The sound design focuses on the grating, everyday noises of Rosetta’s environs: the crunch of gravel under Rosetta’s boots, the droning noise of the factory where she briefly works, and the susurrus of the sylvan area where her digs are. No emotional manipulation through music - just the raw sounds from real life. There’s no color, no warmth. The film is washed out and gray. The caravan park itself feels like a cage - muddy, gray, and bleak. Even Rosetta herself looks drained of vitality, dressed in cheap, worn-out clothes. The Dardennes avoid any kind of aesthetic appeal because the film is meant to hit a raw nerve, exposing the underside of a developed Western country many folks refuse to acknowledge. Dequenne’s performance is all in the body language - tense shoulders, a clenched jaw, defensive eye contact. You can feel how much emotional energy it takes for Rosetta just to get through the day. She’s desperate to find stability, but also held back by her mother - a lush who cannot shake off her jones - who is as much a weight around her neck as the poverty they live in. Just when the film heads to a dismally tragic end, the Dardennes scores with a finale that is quietly devastating and, at the same time, subtly redemptive. Attempting ending her misery by turning on the gas, Rosetta strains to carry a gas canister - a heavy one - back to her trailer (for her, the bitter irony is that even suicide comes with a price tag). The canister is an obvious metaphor for the life-size burden she must grapple with. Then Riquet arrives on his moped, circling around her noisily, and she puts down the canister, finally cracks up. There’s the beginning of a tremor in her voice. She breathes heavily, perhaps for the first time in the whole film, and we can almost see her letting someone in.This ending is masterful for a few reasons. First, it’s ambiguous but emotionally clear. The film ends with an act of human decency. It signifies that even in a base, survivalist world, there might still be room for forgiveness, for solidarity, for connection. Secondly, it is a moral ending without being moralistic. In the end, Rosetta is not cheaply saved, but she pauses, and that pause is monumental. After 90 minutes of relentless motion, of trying to fix her life through sheer will, she finally stops. In that moment, something human is rekindled.It’s also important to recognize that the Dardennes are offering no easy solutions. Rosetta’s life won’t suddenly be all's well. But she’s no longer alone, and that small, stubborn act of mutual recognition with Riquet is enough to breathe life into a closing image that could otherwise have been hopeless. It tells us that while systems may fail, and institutions may be indifferent, individuals still have the power to break cycles - if only for a moment. It’s not a fairytale ending, but in the Dardennes' harsh universe, it might as well be a miracle.

If ROSETTA is hard-edged and minimalist, BROTHERHOOD OF THE WOLF is maximalist in every possible way. Gans’s film is a wild mix of period drama, creature horror, mystery thriller, and political intrigue, set during the Age of Enlightenment. It’s loosely inspired by the real-life legend of the Beast of Gévaudan - a mysterious creature that terrorized the rural French region. The story follows Grégoire de Fronsac (Le Bihan), a naturalist and royal agent, who is sent by the King to investigate the atrocious, almost supernatural killings attributed to the mythic beast. Fronsac is accompanied by Mani (Dacascos), an American Indian from the Iroquois tribe who has become his blood brother. As the pair digs closer to the truth, if laboriously (as the film is 2 and a half hour long), in time they will discover that the beast is not a natural creature but a secretively fashioned and controlled weapon, part of a political conspiracy to undermine the crown and exploit the growing unrest in the country. Eventually, BROTHERHOOD OF THE WOLF comes through as a full-bore rampage on the clash between Enlightenment rationalism and religious superstition, as well as sending the sideswipes to the political manipulation of fear.Gans goes all-in on spectacle here. Lavish period costumes, huge set pieces, engaging fight scenes choreographed straight out of Hong Kong cinema, with slow-motion flips and swashbuckling flourishes. The creature itself is a blend of puppetry and animatronics (designed by Jim Henson's Creature Shop), with CGI-assisted effects to smooth out the discrepancies. The beast looks both organic and unnatural, which gives it a genuinely unsettling quality. The film also has a kind of dark fairy-tale atmosphere - lots of shadows, candlelight, and ominous fog rolling over the countryside.Dacascos is the film's biggest secret weapon. On paper, Mani seems to be the stoic "noble savage" trope pasted into a racist Europe for flair. But Dacascos dodges that trap by grounding him in simmering intensity and spiritual presence that consistently turns heads. He's a man of few words, but every gesture speaks volumes. His stillness is as commanding as his movement, which brings a grace and precision to Mani’s fight scenes that feel balletic, fluid but also grounded, almost ritualistic, hinting at a connection to an otherworldly universe - a worldview shaped by nature, balance, and ancestral knowledge. His combat style contrasts sharply with the baroque violence of those French barbarians and the snarling chaos of the beast. There’s a discipline to Mani’s presence, something elemental.What’s perhaps most impressive is that how much non-verbal work Dacascos does. Mani isn’t given a lot of dialogue, but he communicates with expressions. There’s a palpable sense of history and pain behind his eyes - this is a man who has lost his homeland, who walks in a foreign place that sees him as alien, and yet he carries himself with calm authority. In a story that often critiques the Enlightenment’s hypocrisies - its tendency to proclaim rational order while hiding grotesque violence - Mani stands in for another kind of wisdom. He represents a form of knowledge that isn't written in books or debated in salons. He knows the forest, he respects the dead, he moves like a ghost through a land that doesn’t know what to do with him.There’s also the unspoken commentary that the film slips in with Mani's harrowing death: the outsider, the one most in tune with nature, is the one to be sacrificed. The moment Fronsac sees Mani's corpse, any pretense of diplomacy or rational investigation drops away, marks a turn in the story toward unrestrained chaos and vengeance. Dequenne plays Marianne de Morangias, the daughter of a local aristocrat, the apple of Fronsac's eyes. It’s a supporting role, but Dequenne makes her presence felt, she’s controlled and subtle, dutifully playing a damsel in distress within the formal confines of nobility.Cassel, as Marianne's brother Jean-François, carries himself like a man who believes in his own superiority - social, physical, intellectual - but there’s something rotten underneath, something festering. Cassel leans into that decay with delicious intensity. His facial expressions shift rapidly - from charming to menacing, from amused to dead-eyed. He’s magnetic precisely because he’s so unpredictable. There's a hint of the dandy villain about him, but it's twisted further by a creeping sense of obsession - particularly in his scenes with Dequenne, where the presence of a one-sided attraction gives their dynamic a faintly gothic, almost incest-drama-meets-werewolf-movie kind of vibe.Jean-François’s backstory - his injury, his time abroad, his missing hand—only adds to the mythologized weight of the character. And when it’s revealed that he’s behind much of the carnage and fearmongering, Cassel drops the mask completely and revels in the character’s moral unraveling. In full villain mode, he’s Shakespearean: arrogant, bitter, and fully convinced of his own right to dominate. It’s an over-the-top performance in all the best ways, perfectly matched to the film’s high-pulp sensibility.Then there is Cassel's then partner in life, Bellucci, as Sylvia, the impossibly glamorous Italian courtesan who becomes romantically entangled with Fronsac. At first, she seems like a stock femme fatale - witchy, sensual, aloof. But Bellucci knows how to play with that archetype, and slowly we begin to suspect there’s more to Sylvia than silk and smoky glances. And sure enough - there is. It’s a fun reversal that repositions her not as the seduced, but as the one in control. Bellucci plays the double role - lover and agent - with icy cool. She doesn’t overplay the reveal; instead, she lets Sylvia’s intelligence telegraph through minimal gestures, loaded silences, and strategic manipulation. What’s particularly effective is that Sylvia never drops her mystique, even after her motivations are revealed. She’s enigmatic to the end, a conduit of both desire and disillusionment. Bellucci keeps the tone just right - seductive, slippery, always a half-step out of reach.On the debit side, Le Bihan is a bit of a mixed bag here. He’s the official lead, the rational Enlightenment-era man of science turned reluctant warrior. While he looks the part - ruggedly handsome, well-costumed, and physically up to the task - his performance doesn't always match the theatrical hijinks or charisma of his co-stars. He delivers his lines with clarity, but rarely with the emotional punch or tension that the stakes seem to demand. It’s not that he’s bad, just a bit bland. Thankfully, when Fronsac is thrusted to be an avenging force in the third act, Le Bihan gets to show some piss and vinegar, his grief becomes palpable, a killing spree and a one-to-one throw-down that follow give him a chance to step out of his moral limbo and comport himself as a legitimate, rousing action hero.After all, BROTHERHOOD OF THE WOLF is a rare example of cinematic excess that somehow works precisely because of its contradictions. It’s overstuffed, tonally chaotic, and often ridiculous, but also bold, visually arresting, and completely unafraid to take risks. A handsome revenue (grossing over $70 million in worldwide theatrical release) is a meritorious reward. referential entries: Joachim Lafosse's OUR CHILDREN (2012, 6.7/10); Albert Dupontel's SEE YOU UP THERE (2017, 7.7/10); Luc and Jean-Pierre Dardenne's THE PROMISE (1996, 8.0/10), TWO DAYS ONE NIGHT (2014, 8.6/10). Title: RosettaYear: 1999Genre: DramaCountry: Belgium, FranceLanguage: FrenchDirectors/Screenwriters: Jean-Pierre Dardenne, Luc DardenneComposer: Jean-Pierre CoccoCinematographer: Alain MarcoenEditor: Marie-Hélène DozoCast:Émilie DequenneFabrizio RongioneOlivier GourmetAnne YernauxBernard MarbaixFrédéric BodsonFlorian DelainRating: 8.1/10

English Title: Brotherhood of the WolfOriginal Title: Le pacte des loupsYear: 2001Genre: Action, Horror, Adventure, Mystery, DramaCountry: France Language: French, Italian, GermanDirector: Christophe GansScreenwriters: Stéphane Cabel, Christophe GansComposer: Joseph LoDucaCinematographer: Dan LaustsenEditors: Xavier Loutreuil, Sébastien Prangère, David WuCast:Samuel Le BihanMark Dacascos Vincent CasselÉmilie DequenneJérémie RenierMonica BellucciJean YanneÉdith ScobJean-François StéveninBernard Farcy Jacques PerrinHans MeyerPhilippe NahonVirginie DarmonJohan LeysenJean-Loup WolffNicolas VaudeMichel PuterflamBernard FressonEric PratAndré PenvernGaspard UllielRating: 7.4/10