Zenithal (2025)

-Written by Kyle Bain. 

Accused of murdering his former rival, Francis (Franc Bruneau) finds himself in trouble with the law and running for his life. Zenithal is a rudimentary approach toward comedy, following Francis and his beloved Sonia (Vanessa Guide) as they attempt to determine who actually committed this anus, erm…heinous crime.

The comedy just doesn’t work for me–at least not at the time of my viewing. I think most viewers have to be in the right headspace to appreciate penis humor for an hour-and-twenty minutes, and I just wasn’t there. Again and again Zenithal uses sex, male genitalia, etc. to drive the humor, and I simply found the comedy present in the film to be a bit antiquated and unappealing. Zenithal employs a type of comedy that is incredibly popular, and when used sparingly, I truly feel that this comedy deserves a place in cinema–but its overuse saturates the film and ultimately causes the intended comedy strewn throughout to fall flat. 

Beyond the comedy it appears that Writer-Director Jean-Baptiste Saurel and Co-Writer Elodie Wallace intended to create some sort of tonal balance between the comedy and social commentary. There’s certainly discussions that ensue regarding sex and its place in society, but they are so heavily outweighed by the bawdy comedy. Balance is never achieved in this regard, and I spent nearly the entirety of the film struggling to look past the ineffective comedy. 

I found it impressive the number of locations in which this team shot Zenithal. There’s a vastness to this film that extends far beyond the simplicity of its narrative and use of comedy–developing something entirely different from the rest of the film, something capable of enveloping viewers. Urban cityscapes, close-quartered karate studios, and more exist in this insane comedy, and Saurel’s use of these locations is what allows the film to find success. The larger filming locations signify the grand scale on which Zenithal’s narrative is meant to exist, and those locations that exist on the opposite end of the spectrum express something far more intimate and grounded. While the film’s epicenter is still a giant dick, Zenithal does manage to present something visceral through its use of a variety of locations. Location Scout Amélie Meba is ultimately responsible for this aspect of the film, and her abilities afford the film a chance at success. 

If you’re in the right headspace going into Zenithal, I honestly do believe that there’s a chance for you to appreciate what’s been done here. There are some compelling technical aspects that juxtapose the simplicity that exists as the film’s core, and the salacious comedy does hit the right notes for some viewers (again, when they are prepared for it). Zenithal exists in the same vein as Kung Pow: Enter the Fist, a film that I adored as a teenager. The difference between the two films, however, is that Zenithal often takes itself too seriously, projecting a sense of intended authenticity that shouldn’t exist within a film so aggressive in its sexual content.

Had the comedy been dialed way back, and the narrative, social commentary, and the like been more prominently featured, I feel that Zenithal would have landed. Or, had Saurel fully accepted the fact that Zenithal’s intended messages will get lost in translation, drowned out by the comedy, and leaned much more heavily into that aforementioned comedy, the simplicity of the film may have been charming enough to appeal to viewers. There’s an unfortunate skepticism that seems to have existed in this team as the film was developed, and that’s ultimately what halts its success. 

Directed by Jean-Baptiste Saurel. 

Written by Jean-Baptiste Saurel & Elodie Wallace. 

Starring Franc Bruneau, Vanessa Guide, Cyril Gueï, Rebecca Finet, Anaïde Rozam, etc. 

5/10 = WORTH WATCHING, BUT YOU’VE BEEN WARNED