Paradise by the Dashboard Lights: Le Gall Finds Love in a Hopeless Place
A self-described ‘wayward photographer’ influenced by Henri Cartier-Bresson, French writer/director Pierre Le Gall unleashes a vulnerable, semi-autobiographical take on experiencing an all-consuming love jones with Flesh and Fuel. Previously working on short films which also dealt with characters building to a confrontation with their emotional realities despite employing self-defense mechanisms to avoid them, Le Gall mines the innate loneliness of truck drivers, a specific occupational experience further exacerbated by queerness. While it’s a constantly shifting experience where human interactions, sexual and otherwise, are limited to breaks along their routes, an omnipresent sense of alienation further deepens the parameters of the closet for a protagonist who, for the first time, glimpses the dazzling possibilities in living out loud.
Étienne (Alexis Manenti) is a truck driver who seems mostly fulfilled with his life on the road. While caring for his sister and nephew, the only other significant personal relationships he maintains, Étienne’s occupation has allowed him remain secretive about his sexuality, his intimate needs expertly compartmentalized as a separate facet of his personality. Sexual liaisons with other men at truck stops and outdoor cruising spots have seemed to satisfy him well enough. However, a chance meeting with Bartosz (Julian Swiezewski), a truck driver from Poland, leads to potential capture during a police raid. A moment of intimacy transpires, planting the seeds for a romantic tailspin which will change both their trajectories.
The original French language title Du fioul dans les artères translates more emphatically to Heating Oil in the Arteries, which also feels a bit more playful and less brooding, as Flesh and Fuel suggests a literal consumption of the body, perhaps reminiscent of Julien Duvivier’s supernaturally themed anthology film Flesh and Fantasy (1943). Le Gall’s title arrives hot on the heels of Mexican director David Pablos’ On the Road (2025), a much darker and despairing romance between a drug addicted trucker and a hustler on a road to nowhere. Le Gall’s approach is more intimately standardized as a love story between two men who are perhaps as equally struck by the possibility of a life beyond the road as they are by each other.
Citing his favored thematic elements as ‘love and time,’ Le Gall perhaps best expertly crafts how the depth of the former is dictated by the latter. If developing a crush on someone is merely the reality of not having nearly enough information to ascertain anything beyond knee-jerk attraction and projected emotional need, what heightens the seductive appeal is unavailability, or the lack of direct access. Their extended absences approach delirium as Etienne and Bartosz correspond via FaceTime and text. Eventually, the reality of their clashing routes leads to anguish, and it’s here where Le Gall expertly shows how Etienne is feeling when he runs across two freeways for the chance to be with Bartosz, a moment of romantic insanity.
Of course, circumstances lead to a hurtful argument and the necessary montage of soul searching, apology, and reconciliation which makes Flesh and Fuel feel a bit detached from suggesting anything beyond the safety of the honeymoon period. Still, it’s a stand out role for Alexis Manenti, who has cut his teeth on various masculine characterizations. A musical interlude set to “Down in Mexico” by The Coasters (most iconically utilized in Tarantino’s Death Proof, 2006) suggests a progression of attitudes and potential permissiveness available to Etienne within his milieu, and if there’s anything missing from the film it’s the vibrant energies of Etienne’s colleagues, who often seem primed to provide a greater depth perception (“Who the fuck eats lychees?” screams a woman waiting for a delayed shipment of exotic goods so she can take off on her route).
Not surprisingly, Julian Świeżewski is mostly reduced to merely being the object of Etienne’s affection, despite some elements in the script suggesting a cultural and economic disparity between the men with the less than desirable contracts available to Bartosz in Poland. While Flesh and Fuel resorts to coasting (rather than running out of gas), it’s an enjoyable contemporary queer romance which takes its characters and their emotional integrity seriously enough to suggest anything is possible between two adults coming to the realization of how sexy making an effort can be.
Reviewed on May 16th at the 2026 Cannes Film Festival (79th edition) – Critics’ Week. 91 Mins.
★★★/☆☆☆☆☆