“The film is held together by the two fantastic central performances from Exarchopoulos and Yacoub.”

Aude Léa Rapin’s second film Planet B is one of several high-concept science-fiction films to emerge from France in recent years, with this one also including several topics (environmentalism, technology, immigration) that are current hot-button political issues. Set in 2039 and weaving together the stories of two women – eco-activist Julia (Adèle Exarchopoulos) and undocumented immigrant Nour (Souheila Yacoub) – Rapin’s film is undeniably ambitious and has several strong elements, but doesn’t entirely cohere as a successful film.

The opening scenes follow Julia, a member of a radical eco-activism group that has been labeled a terrorist organization by the government, and new recruit Éloi (Jonathan Couzinié) as they monitor the group’s blowing up of a cell tower. Quickly discovered by the armed forces, Julia’s escape attempt ends when she is shot in the eye, and she subsequently awakens at an idyllic beach resort that is revealed to be Planet B, a virtual prison where avatars of political prisoners are held as they await trial. At the same time, Nour – an Iraqi journalist who was blacklisted by the government and subsequently fled to France using false papers – works at menial labor while struggling to find a solution to her imminently expiring QR code visa. While on a cleaning shift at a military base, she smuggles out a VR headset that she hopes to sell. Instead, it allows her to enter Planet B. Initially wary of Nour’s presence, Julia quickly realizes that she is her only hope of escaping the prison.

Rapin’s film is incredibly ambitious, with its primary settings being a dystopian Paris and Planet B. Unfortunately, by splitting the film between two protagonists whose journeys merit entire films by themselves, she does both halves of the film a disservice. The Planet B portion of the film – in which Julia and her fellow prisoners, including several of her eco-activist comrades, adapt to their new environment before turning on each other when presented with the possibility of freedom – is undercooked and would have benefitted from more time to develop the group dynamics among the prisoners. One of the most fascinating elements of Planet B are the ‘nightmares’, visions designed to inflict psychological torture tailored to each prisoner and their crimes or personal fears, and the increasingly personal ones that Julia suffers are particularly effective. But by only giving us small glimpses of what the other prisoners suffer, and by giving them no discernable personalities, it makes their increasing hostility towards each other come across as the result of writerly machinations rather than an organic descent into paranoia and self-preservation. The real-world portion of the film focused on Nour is a blend of many previous dystopian stories centered on immigration or the dangers of a world ruled by technology, and Rapin doesn’t bring anything new to the table in terms of storytelling or worldbuilding.

The film is held together by the two fantastic central performances from Exarchopoulos and Yacoub, and they make it a pleasant enough watch even if one wishes that the film around them was stronger. Exarchopoulos’ transformation from badass activist to a prisoner increasingly broken by guilt and psychological torture is a feat of the performer triumphing over an underwritten role; Exarchopoulos is able to convey so much with her face and voice that she makes Julia’s evolution more moving than it has any right to be. Nour isn’t very different from any immigrant in troubled/dystopian hero roles we’ve seen before, but Yacoub is such a vibrant and captivating presence on-screen that we’re invested in Nour’s journey even as it hits all the expected beats. The supporting cast do what they can with paper-thin roles, with only Eliane Umuhire (pleasantly sharp and sparky as Hermès, Nour’s hacker antagonist-turned-accomplice) and India Hair (who brings emotional heft to Victoire, Julia’s fellow prisoner and eco-activist whose determination to return to her children forces her to increasingly desperate measures) managing to bring more to their characters than what is on the page.

Along with the performances, the other highlight of the film is Bertrand Bonello’s score. Bonello, in addition to being one of the best directors currently working, is also a skilled musician who has previously scored his own films, and it is fascinating to listen to how he adapts his synth-forward sound to fit another director’s vision. Bonello’s music feels appropriately futuristic while also recalling ’80s thriller and slasher scores, and more than anything else in the film is key in setting the increasingly unsettling and tense mood that develops as time runs out for our heroines to break free. The score is especially effective at reinforcing the sense of terror felt by the prisoners during their ‘nightmares’, and the piece that plays over the final scene and the end credits is a haunting earworm.

Planet B is a prime example of a young auteur giving in to wild ambitions following an acclaimed small-scale debut, and while Rapin doesn’t totally succeed with every idea presented here she has made a sufficiently entertaining sci-fi parable about an alternative future that is far-fetched in some ways and scarily plausible in others. Even if it barely scratches the surface of these themes, it raises provocative questions about how technology can be used to dehumanize immigrants and political prisoners even further, and shows how solidarity is the only way to defeat totalitarian forces.