You Are Not Alone had its world premiere at the Toronto International Film Festival (TIFF) in September last year. Ironically, real-life couple Philippe Lupien and Marie-Hélène Viens wrote and directed this sci-fi romance as their first feature film, exploring themes of loneliness and alienation. 

Pier-Luc Funk stars as Léo — an unmotivated 20-something pizza delivery driver struggling with loneliness — who meets Rita (Marianne Fortier), an amateur musician who takes a liking to him. Before their romance can blossom, Léo encounters an alien disguised as a taxi driver, who also sets his sights on him. The alien, named John (Francois Papineau), preys on lonely men in Montréal to sustain his life force and attempts to steal Léo’s heart — literally. 

The movie starts off promising. Léo is a strangely endearing character, brought to life by a strong performance from Funk. His daily interactions are marked with awkwardness — whether he’s delivering pizzas to clients or conversing with his parents, who own the pizzeria. Léo’s mother, Sylvie (Sandrine Bisson), delivers some hilarious moments as she lovingly teases his demeanour at work and encourages him to get out more. As a former pizzeria staff worker myself, I nostalgically watched as Léo’s parents cooked pizzas and sent him out on delivery.

However, it’s Léo’s interplay with Rita that steals the show. The chemistry between Funk and Fortier jumps off the screen after Sylvie introduces their characters to each other. Tortured by his alienation, Leo slowly eases up in Rita’s presence and begins to appreciate life in a new way. Her confidence in him allows both of them to embrace their vulnerability, as Léo strives to find more meaning within himself and Rita tries to navigate her music career.

The filmmakers were compelled to get creative with shots, resulting in some striking cinematography. COURTESY OF TIFF

Nevertheless, the film falls flat during its second act when John begins to pursue Léo after giving him a ride home one night. The introduction of sci-fi elements feels forced as John slowly reveals his true form, which seems disconnected from the first half of the film. John is never explicitly identified as an alien, leaving his character and purpose confusing, as the audience is often left guessing at what’s happening. 

The film is a modest effort. Produced by Québécois production company La Boîte à Fanny, it marks a rare appearance as a French-Canadian indie film at TIFF. The score, composed by Pierre-Philippe Côté, complements the film well, reflecting the tension — both romantic between Léo and Rita, and eerie between Léo and John — throughout.

The film’s low budget also comes with its perks — the filmmakers were compelled to get creative with shots, resulting in some striking cinematography. For example, early in the film, the camera follows the pizza sign atop Léo’s car as he works nights, an unconventional choice that oddly sets the atmosphere as he navigates the empty streets of Montréal.

Nevertheless, in the Q&A section of the premiere, Lupien explained that he wanted to leave the sci-fi elements of the film open to interpretation. However, in aiming for ambiguity, he and Viens go too far, leaving the film opaque and unexplained in many areas. What kind of creature is John, exactly? Why does Léo, who seemingly possesses no exceptional qualities, present such a challenge for John in capturing him?

The chemistry between Funk and Fortier jumps off the screen. COURTESY OF TIFF

By lazily engaging with sci-fi elements, the film detracts from Léo and Rita’s relationship, and its commentary on loneliness. Over the first act, we come to feel for Léo, the unlikely protagonist, whose defeated outlook on life gradually transforms into something more hopeful as he builds a real human connection. But the film ultimately shifts from being a vulnerable romance to a cheap sci-fi flick, which leaves it hanging somewhere in between and prevents it from becoming a fully fleshed-out character study of Léo’s condition.

Ultimately, I believe it’s important for Canadian cinema to bring French-Canadian indie films into the limelight. You Are Not Alone occasionally evokes modern classics like Gabrielle (2013) and Café de Flore (2011), both of which explore unlikely romances rooted in Québec’s unique identity. However, I hope that future French-Canadian films can build on this foundation more effectively than this one.

At the premiere, Lupien described the film as a “love story that keeps getting disrupted” by John, and I agree with his characterization. What should be a romance is constantly interrupted — and in the end, the interruptions detract from its core.